webnovel

GOT: Reborn as a Martell

Quentyn is sent back after his death in Meereen...but someone else inhabits his body. Two years before the events of AGOT, the new Quentyn Martell will have to navigate the treacherous landscape of Dornish politics and push himself forwards if he's to avoid the same fate he did in Meereen, and make the Sunshine over Westeros. ______________________ patreon.com/MoonLight18

MoonLight18 · 書籍·文学
レビュー数が足りません
150 Chs

GOT : Chapter 65

( Jennelyn )

By the end of the decade, hopefully, Planky Town and Sunspear will dwarf any port in Westeros, especially since it avoids the crossing of the Stepstones.

Stepstones which I will need to consider. Some of the closer islands would make ideal chokepoints and bases for anti-piracy operations."

"I hear you've been rebuilding our fleet and that's why you need our copper."

...

Jennelyn was particularly interested in that point. Copper had been a resource that Westeros lacked but, like many other things, that Dorne had in relative abundance. As such, there were copper mines in areas like Skyreach, Kingsgrave, and Godsgrace. 

House Fowler was the main producer, with houses Allyrion, Manwoody, and Wyl not far behind. Until then, though, production of copper had been quite low. Indeed, there were not a lot of uses for it.

However, prince Quentyn had drastically ramped up the production of copper in the mines, to the great delight of house Fowler's coffers, which were now flooded with Martell gold.

"The fleet is indeed why I need this copper for." The prince replied. "It turns out that it may just give us an edge on everyone."

"How?"

"Well, it seems like copper protects against corrosion, which means our ships will last a lot longer than the usual wooden or lead-bottom ships. Experiments have been successful, and we've been able to design faster and more durable vessels."

"You want a fleet on par with the Redwynes…" Jennelyn gasped as she saw the list of ships on order in Ghost Hill, Yronwood, and the Tor's shipyards. "Where do you even get all of that gold?"

"I have…assets, disseminated across Westeros and Essos." Quentyn smiled weakly. 

"Not to mention the full potential of Dorne which I have started tapping into. Pearls, diamonds, rubies are being extracted daily around the kingdom, not to mention the luxury goods that we can start producing ourselves instead of importing from the Free Cities. 

Then we have the shrimp and fish farms, olives, oils, perfumes, jewelry…as I said, you should come to Sunspear, I'm sure you'd have fun trying to organize the new merchant's quarters in Sunspear and Planky Town…"

"I'd be glad to." She laughed. "That's still a substantial amount of assets that you have, though, not to mention the creation of a bank."

"That's for a later date." Quentyn shook his head. "The creation of a bank cannot be done on the fly, and I'd rather wait for the situation to have stabilized before we do anything else. 

For now, we're only focusing on the projects which are easier to implement, notably the crops imported from Essos and even further, like the ones from Yi-Ti from last year's expedition."

"Rice and tea." Jennelyn nodded. "The Blackmonts and Manwoodys got some rice growing, although I know naught of their success in their efforts."

"Things are going well, apparently." Quentyn answered. "Let's hope things stay that way. However, it will take years or even decades before these experiments yield satisfactory results."

"Skyreach wasn't built in a day, are ambitious, but most of this…" Jennelyn pointed to the plans. "They will take years to complete, even with the right guidance."

Quentyn nodded.

"To my eternal regret, yet. Some of these will even take decades to finish. It's been more than two years since I've developed the medicine that bears my name, but it is only a month or two ago that we have finally managed to supply every Dornishman with a sample." The prince conceded. 

"Things move slowly and take time. As you said, Skyreach wasn't built in a day, and all of these projects won't either. Which is why I need to prioritize a lot of things and relegate many others. Not to mention some projects won't be as popular to some lords and ladies as some others. 

I had enough trouble with Lady Delonne Allyrion grumbling because the Wyl-to-Sunspear road wouldn't go through Godsgrace at first.

Sunspear is on the top of my list since it will become my seat of power, and I cannot have it play second fiddle to Yronwood or even be an equal. It needs to be my castle and therefore show that House Martell is wealthy and at the cutting edge of progress. 

Therefore, most of the projects I have worked on for the short-term are related to this, the city, the fleet, and of course, the road between the Boneway and Sunspear."

"That is a huge road, I doubt that it would take less than an entire year to complete your renovation."

"You're right. And getting the right materials and builders will take even longer. The good news is that, for once, Yronwood is firmly on my side since it will help him with his trade. And the same goes for Jordayne, Wyl and Toland."

"Have you thought about getting some builders from Skyreach in exchange for an extension of the road from Skyreach to Yronwood? You need the Prince's Pass after all."

"Well, if you accept to come to Sunspear, I'd gladly put you in charge of organizing this, and perhaps House Fowler may reap many rewards…" Quentyn teased.

"I already said that I'd be delighted to." she winked. "I just hope that Jeyne and Delilah won't be too jealous."

"Jeyne liked Skyreach a lot more than Sunspear anyways, and as for Delilah…" Quentyn looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well she's certainly ambitious but I never promised her anything. However, she could accompany you so that you may not feel completely alone when you arrive in Sunspear?"

"That would be acceptable, I think. But enough of me, what are your personal plans for now?" Jennelyn asked. "You've got your friends in Sunspear, but I don't think you'll stay here forever. Not that I'd mind but…"

"I'm not exactly sure." Quentyn scratched his head. "The war has drawn to a standstill, but large unknowns remain, especially with the Reach. I am half of a mind to go visit Arianne in Highgarden if only to probe the Tyrell ambitions.

For now, though, we've been traveling for months, and a short month of rest in Skyreach is overdue for everyone. The mountain air will do wonders for Nym, and everyone will be allowed to rest. Perhaps I will stay here with Nym until our child is born, I hear your maester is quite experienced."

"Maester Yorick is the best maester on this side of the Red Mountains, you can be sure of that. And it allows you not to be assaulted by every Dornish man and woman if you choose to return to Sunspear."

"That too." He laughed." Although the reception in Skyreach was quite on par with what I'd expected from Sunspear. I knew Lorch was despised but to this point?"

Jennelyn nodded.

"He was a monster, and the resentment of Dorne just kept growing with each passing day. To them, you are a savior. Especially since you gave every Dornishman present with you a chance to get a personal piece of their vengeance. It is likely that even if they didn't care for Lorch, which is unlikely, everyone in your party knew someone who was slain on the banks of the Trident."

Quentyn nodded back with a sly smile. Jennelyn just rolled hers.

"How much more till we're even?" he asked.

"We've been even for a while, Quent. I think you owe me now."

"That little?" he shook his head. "You surprise me every day."

"And I've got plenty of surprises left for you, my prince."

"Stop calling me that." He giggled.

"Why not? I thought you'd like it."

"Oh, really, Lady Fowler?"

Jennelyn burst out laughing.

"Alright, I see your point."

Suddenly, a flurry of quick knocks were heard at the door.

"Were you expecting anyone?" Quentyn asked.

"Not that I know of…" Jennelyn shook her head.

"Quentyn!" the knocking continued, even while a voice could be heard beyond the door. "I know you're in there! I don't care if you're decent or not, if you do not open this door within the next minute, I will knock it down!"

"The door is unlocked," Quentyn shouted back, eyeing her with a confused look. Jennelyn just shrugged.

A summer islander burst into the room. Jennelyn barely registered her presence when the girl's gaze set upon her as she frowned. Fortunately for Jennelyn, though, Quentyn's voice took her attention.

"Sarella?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come all the way from Oldtown." She replied, quickly and seriously. "Get your paramour out of here, we need to talk."

"Hey! We're not…" Jennelyn spoke up, outraged at the prince's cousin's intrusion.

"She's not my paramour." Quentyn frowned. "And be careful, you're quite literally in her home."

"I could care less right now, cousin. It's about that issue."

Quentyn's face straightened.

"I see." He rubbed his hands through his hair. "Jen can stay, I trust her enough. Just…don't mention the involved by name."

Sarella quickly glanced at Jennelyn then turned her attention back to the prince and nodded.

"You were right." She nearly spat out. "I'm not going to ask how or why you knew, but you were fucking right. Read."

She took out a piece of paper and handed it to Quentyn, who carefully took it. While reading the piece of paper, she could see Quentyn's face slowly deteriorate.

"No." The prince shook his head. "The moron…the bastard. He couldn't…he didn't…not when he just…"

"He did." Sarella sighed. "This is the original copy. There is no need to have it in Oldtown anymore, it is better for Dorne to have it."

"Shit." Quentyn was breaking down, although Jen could see that there was a small dose of happiness in his voice. "Well, it was important indeed. This…"

"It changes everything." Sarella sighed. "It means there is one more drag…"

Quentyn shot her a dark gaze, and the summer islander froze. Both looked at Jen, who was still trying to figure out what in the seven hells was going on.

"It changes…nothing. Yet." Quentyn eventually shook his head. "But this piece of paper may prove extremely valuable when the time comes. It could allow us to…negotiate."

"There's more." She shook her head. "There is this."

She took another piece of paper out of her saddle bag and handed it to Quentyn. The prince took it almost instantly, yet took great care not to damage it. However, this time he looked less surprised than before.

"Can you not see?" The summer islander was clearly hoping to get more of a reaction out of him. "He had it all planned out."

"Well, a name is a name." He shrugged. "It hardly matters."

"It's the symbol that matters."

"Need I remind you who our cousins were named after?"

Sarella did not speak for a moment and nodded back.

"I see your point." The girl was trembling now. "Can you imagine if…if we'd won. The consequences of…of this…"

"I…prefer not to think about it." Quentyn shook his head. "But father being father, he would have asked for immediate reparation."

"A betrothal."

"To someone he knew could never threaten…" Quentyn spared a glance at Jennelyn and debated finishing his sentence.

"I think we've gone too far, Quentyn." Sarella shook her head. "She's already connecting the dots."

"Jen." Quentyn took a step forward as Jennelyn just stood on, confused. "You're going to have to trust me."

"Trust me?" Jennelyn asked, worried. "Trust me with wh…"

And suddenly it all clicked. Dragons. Oldtown. The bastard. The insult. The victory. Reparation. Cousins. So many things...that happened right there...close to the Prince's Pass. Yet, she felt like it couldn't be. It just couldn't.

"Quent…" Jennelyn's voice broke for a moment. "What's in that paper?"

"You cannot tell anyone, Jen." Quentyn took her hands, his scarred face looking straight at her, as serious as she had ever seen it. "I'm not only asking you as a friend but I'm asking you as your prince. You cannot talk about this. About any of this."

"I…he couldn't have, right? He didn't marry her?"

"He did. He screwed everything up."

Jennelyn's heart sank.

"And…the name…" she whispered. "She died, no? Her child died with her…"

Quentyn took a deep breath and looked her in the eyes.

"Swear to me, Jen."

Her eyes met his. His gaze was unflinching.

"Swear to me that you will not tell a soul and may the gods strike you down if you do."

"I swear I won't tell a single word of what transpired here, but…" she begged. "You have to tell me…does…did the child live?"

Quentyn avoided her gaze and slammed his fist into the table. He waited for a little moment, before finally answering.

"Yes, but it hardly matters." He took a deep sigh. "Daeron Targaryen is at the Wall and swore his life away. But if he does come back somehow, we are going to have to deal with a shit storm of colossal proportions."

And at that moment, it felt like the world had crumbled around Jennelyn Fowler.

======================

If you want to support me or just to read 17 chapters ahead of the public release you can join my p@treon : 

p@treon.com/moonlight10