"Please advise me, Your Grace," Lord Loren said sincerely.
Aegon stood and took the golden dragon coin from Loren's hand—the very first minted coin of House Targaryen.
He held it up to eye level and spoke slowly, "I want the golden dragon to become the universal currency of this world. And the Dragonlord Treasury will play the central role in that plan.
The Targaryen dynasty will conquer one barbarian kingdom after another.
Once these old kingdoms are divided among lords and ministers, won't they need to rebuild their lands? The Dragonlord Treasury will be their source of funding. But this isn't a loan—it's an investment. Just like buying shares in the White Sugar Guild.
Our kingdom's exclusive goods, like white sugar, can only be bought with golden dragons. That means other nations' currencies will gradually disappear from circulation. The Dragonlord Treasury holds the right to mint coins, and just from that, the revenue will be immense.
When our kingdom grows powerful enough, the Dragonlord Treasury will become the safest vault in the world.
Wealthy merchants will deposit their fortunes in its secure halls, and the treasury will charge interest. That interest alone will be massive—far beyond the revenue of a few duchies.
Once the world's richest store their wealth in our vaults, we will, in effect, hold their fortunes in our hands.
And what can we do with that money?
When you control the world's wealth, your options are endless.
For example, we could buy up every grain of food in a hostile kingdom. Their people go hungry, riots erupt, and the Targaryen dynasty steps in to conquer a nation already in chaos.
That is the power of the Dragonlord Treasury. It is another kind of dragon in our hands—one that, at times, is more terrifying and far more useful than a beast like Balerion."
Loren's hair stood on end. He had never imagined a treasury could wield such overwhelming influence, capable of deciding a kingdom's fate.
"This… this is war through wealth!" Loren gasped.
Aegon smiled faintly. With a flick of his thumb, the golden dragon flipped into the air, ringing with a crisp, clear hum.
He caught it neatly in his palm, nodded, and said, "You're a sharp man. Explaining these ideas to you is easy. Not like Crispian—every concept must be broken down piece by piece before he grasps the basics."
"I'm ashamed to have failed Your Grace," Crispian said with an embarrassed expression. As the Master of Coin, he felt no small shame that he was outmatched by Loren when it came to knowledge of currency and guilds.
Loren quickly bowed his head and said, "Your Grace, Lannisport has long dealt with guilds from the Free Cities. After years of trade, we naturally picked up some of their business practices.
Besides, before the Age of Blood, Lannister gold was exported in large quantities to the Valyrian Freehold. After the Valyrian Peninsula was destroyed, our ancestors organized expeditions to explore the ruins—but none ever returned.
In truth, House Lannister is quite familiar with Valyrian culture."
"I see," Aegon said thoughtfully, then asked after a brief pause, "Would you be interested in serving as the first Director of the Dragonlord Treasury?"
Aegon truly needed someone like Loren at this moment.
He was about to launch a number of forward-thinking institutions and initiatives—he couldn't oversee everything personally. Talented individuals were in short supply, and few understood wealth as deeply as Loren did.
"I will serve Your Grace unto death," Loren said without hesitation. He dropped to one knee and accepted the appointment with pride.
From Aegon's description alone, Loren already understood how vital the Dragonlord Treasury would be to House Targaryen—and just how great its future potential might be.
The Director of the Dragonlord Treasury would wield no less authority than a member of the Small Council—and might even surpass them in time. After all, the treasury would hold the purse strings of the Targaryen Kingdom. Even the councilors would find themselves seeking favor from the treasury.
"Excellent," Aegon said with a smile. "In the beginning, the work will be complex and demanding—but the realm will never neglect those who serve it with devotion. If you achieve results, you will be richly rewarded."
He extended a hand and helped Loren to his feet.
Loren bowed his head in promise. "I'll draft a complete plan at once—for minting the golden dragons and replacing the old coinage. I will not disappoint you. House Lannister has dealt in gold and money for millennia. In all Westeros, Your Grace aside, no one understands wealth better than a Lannister."
Aegon nodded in approval, then proceeded to explain the treasury's structure and its unique position—how it would not fall under the full jurisdiction of the Master of Coin, but would answer only to the King of the Targaryen dynasty, with a high degree of independence.
When their discussion concluded, Aegon accepted a goblet from a maid with a nod, tilted it back slightly, and took a small sip to moisten his throat.
Then he turned to a nearby attendant and gave his command.
"Summon all the Maesters and Archmaesters from the four towers to the Hall of a Hundred Hearths—along with the Small Council and the nobles residing here in Harrenhal."
The attendants bowed and hurried off to carry out the order.
"Your Grace, is there something more?" Loren asked softly, a touch of curiosity in his voice.
"You'll know soon enough," Aegon replied with a gentle smile.
Flamelin could barely contain his excitement. Aegon had already informed him that today he would receive his reward for inventing white sugar—but he had never expected such grand ceremony. All the Maesters, Archmaesters, nobles, and royal ministers of the new Citadel were being summoned. Aegon intended to present the honor publicly.
Grand Maester Gawen was the first to enter the Hall of a Hundred Hearths. He respectfully saluted Aegon, then turned his gaze to Flamelin, studying him closely.
As the Grand Maester of House Targaryen, Gawen was the acknowledged leader of all the realm's Maesters. He knew Flamelin well, both the man and his achievements, and he understood exactly why Aegon had summoned everyone here today.
Even Gawen felt a stir of anticipation—for Aegon had once promised him a reward as well.
One by one, Maesters in gray or white robes, their necks draped with chains of various metals, entered the hall. They bowed to the king, then stood in orderly silence.
There was no whispering, no chatter. Their composed demeanor showed a high level of discipline and respect for the occasion.
The Small Council and Harrenhal's nobles arrived shortly after and paid their respects to the king.
Gawen carefully tallied the number of Maesters present. Once confirmed, he turned to Aegon and reported that all was ready.
Aegon nodded slightly, rose slowly from the throne, and accepted the tray of white sugar from Flamelin's hands. Then he stepped to the front of the dais and addressed the hall in a strong, clear voice.
"Maesters of the New Citadel, you may be wondering why I've gathered you all here in the Hall of a Hundred Hearths today.
There's no need to speculate. I am here to reward a Maester who has rendered exceptional service to the Targaryen dynasty."
All eyes turned to Aegon, filled with curiosity. What sort of contribution could warrant such recognition directly from the king?
Just then, attendants emerged from the sides of the hall carrying trays of white sugar, weaving through the crowd and positioning themselves among the Maesters.
The Maesters looked on curiously at the glittering crystals offered to them.
Aegon picked up a piece of sugar and placed it in his mouth. Seeing this, the Maesters quickly realized the crystals were meant to be eaten. Following the king's lead, they each picked up a piece and tasted it.
Within moments, gasps of surprise spread through the hall, followed by a rising chorus of praise for the white sugar.
Flamelin trembled slightly, overwhelmed with emotion.
Aegon raised his right hand, pressing it down gently to quiet the room, then said, "This food was invented by a Maester named Flamelin. It is called white sugar.
By now, you've all seen its appearance and tasted its sweetness.
What's more important is that it is not difficult to produce—meaning it's a sweet that can be enjoyed by the general populace. A dessert with the power to reshape the world.
It will bring immense wealth to the Targaryen dynasty and greatly enhance the kingdom's influence.
For this reason, I have decided to reward Flamelin with a fief of his own!"
The announcement was like cold water splashed into hot oil—the hall erupted instantly. Even several members of the Small Council atop the dais were visibly stunned.
Hand of the King Torrhen couldn't hold back and stepped forward to advise, "Your Grace, isn't this going too far?"
The North was known for its traditionalism, and the notion of a Maester being granted a noble title threatened to upend a feudal order that had endured for thousands of years in Westeros.
Aegon acknowledged Torrhen with a slight nod, then raised his hand once again, signaling the room to settle.
Once the commotion subsided, Aegon continued, "The fief granted to Flamelin gives him only the right to collect taxes and revenue—it does not grant him governance. Moreover, the land is non-heritable.
Flamelin's title will not be that of a landed lord. It is an honorary distinction, which I shall call 'lord of merit.'"
This was a system Aegon had designed, inspired by the shi yi (tax fief) model of the Han Dynasty.
Upon hearing it was merely an honorary title, the Small Council quietly relaxed. Had Maesters truly been elevated to the same standing as the ancient noble houses, rebellion might well have followed.
Among the Maesters, however, there was a glimmer of understanding—some had already begun to grasp the subtle advantages of being granted such a status.
Seeing that the idea was being cautiously accepted, Aegon continued, "There are several reasons why I've chosen to grant this reward.
First, Maesters currently have no sources of income beyond their wages. By granting a small, sustainable fief—not for lordship, but as a source of tax revenue and rental from serf-tended lands—it provides the means to continue your research without financial strain.
Second, the fiefs granted to Maester-lords will be overseen by royal-appointed tax collectors. This ensures the Maesters themselves can remain focused on their academic pursuits and research projects.
Third, the white sugar invented by Flamelin is, in terms of value to House Targaryen, comparable to the annual tax income of several major castles.
If I were to reward such an achievement with mere coin, I believe many of you, who dedicate yourselves to scholarly research, would feel slighted. That would only dampen your motivation.
For these reasons, I chose this method of reward.
My true goal is to encourage all of you to pursue innovation—to create and research academic projects that can bring immense benefit to the realm. As long as your work proves as groundbreaking as white sugar, I will continue to grant lands and honors."
The Maesters took time to reflect on Aegon's words. Before long, many felt his reasoning was sound. After all, Flamelin had created a treasure that could rival the wealth of an entire kingdom—a small, non-hereditary fief was a well-deserved reward.
The ministers, however, remained mostly silent. Aegon had touched the very foundations of feudal tradition, and on several faces, there was thinly veiled discontent over the king's unilateral decision.
Sensing this, Aegon addressed the Small Council with patience.
"Lords and ministers, have you considered that this reward may benefit you as well?"
"Your Grace, I fail to see how," said Torrhen, somewhat wearily. He believed that noble titles should not be granted so lightly.
Aegon smiled at him and said, "Lord Torrhen, have you considered this: if a Maester from the New Citadel can invent something like white sugar—something that brings the royal demesne more wealth than several earldoms combined—why wouldn't there be a second such invention?
As of now, only the royal family funds the Maesters in their pursuit of new discoveries.
But what if you lords and earls were to fund research yourselves? The resulting treasures would belong to the noble patron. Wouldn't that open up a new stream of income?
The profits from white sugar are enough to make even dukes envious.
Now imagine: if an earl funded such research and it succeeded, their domain's power might multiply several times over. And all it would cost is a century of tax revenue from a few towns.
This is a win—for nobles, for Maesters, and for the kingdom."
Aegon's words finally clicked with the gathered nobles. Of course—if the crown could sponsor research, why couldn't they?
If another invention like white sugar emerged, what heights could their house reach?
With greater wealth, they would gain prominence in future campaigns of conquest—and naturally, their domains would expand.
"Your Grace, you are truly wise. I support your decision," one great lord called out.
"Congratulations, Ser Flamelin!" echoed the chorus of Maesters and scholars offering their praise.
Aegon noticed that Lord Torrhen still looked less than pleased. He sighed inwardly—no policy could satisfy everyone. There would always be conservatives who believed change threatened the kingdom's stability.
Though the nobles continued to look down on Flamelin's new honorary title, they were now casting serious glances at the Maesters in the Hall of a Hundred Hearths—quietly wondering which one might be next to invent a treasure like white sugar.
Aegon watched the Maesters gather around Flamelin in celebration. This moment had raised the stature of their profession, and it would inspire more scholars to devote themselves to invention and research.
As the ranks of Maesters grew, their knowledge would drive reform after reform—lifting House Targaryen ever higher.
...
After the events at the Citadel, the third year of the War of Conquest drew to a close.
It was time to begin the conquest of the Iron Islands.
Lord Loren had no choice but to temporarily hand over oversight of the Dragonlord Treasury to his younger brother—he needed to return to Lannisport to prepare the navy.
He had already offered Aegon fifty pounds of gold—if he didn't seize at least one or two prosperous islands, the loss would be enormous.
The royal fleet, under Master of Ships Corlys, sailed from the Bay of Crabs into the Trident. At the same time, several major Riverlands lords had assembled their fleets at Seagard. The royal navy would join them there before advancing on Ironman's Bay to strike the Iron Islands.
Meanwhile, the major lords of the Reach had also completed their naval preparations and were en route to Fair Isle.
The Riverlands, the Westerlands, and the Reach—three powerful forces—would unite under Aegon's command in a joint assault on the Iron Islands.
Aegon would fly Balerion and accompany the Reach fleet. Visenya would accompany the royal fleet of the Riverlands. Rhaenys, now pregnant, would not take part in the battle. The Westerlands fleet would not have dragon escort, but as they were not the main force, it posed no real issue.
Outside Harrenhal, Aegon mounted Balerion and waved farewell to his ministers, sisters, Maesters, and others. His destination was Fair Isle, where he would rendezvous with the Reach fleet.
By now, Balerion's saddle had undergone another upgrade. It was now convertible: fully enclosed, or with a retractable skylight for a semi-open design.
This way, high-altitude wind and snow in winter were no longer a problem. When the skylight was closed, Balerion's body heat even made the cabin feel warm.
As the people of Harrenhal watched, Balerion's wings stretched wide. With a powerful sweep, he rose into the sky—his shadow slowly vanishing into the horizon.
...
[Upto 20 chapters ahead for now]
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