Tyrosh, The Purple Palace, The Throne Room
Inside the opulent Throne Room of the Purple Palace, a massive circular table stood beneath the center of the great dome. In a world that had never known the concept of a "Round Table," this singular piece of furniture—crafted from five joined mahogany banquet tables—symbolized a tectonic shift in power.
This hall had once been the stage where Tyroshi Magisters traded lives for gold. Now, the sunlight filtering through the dome's crystalline refraction system illuminated a new master.
Jon sat upon the Archon's high seat, a throne encrusted with enough gemstones to buy a small city. Clad in deep Tyroshi purple embroidered with the golden interlaced sigils of the Direwolf and the Three-Headed Dragon, he radiated a terrifying, still authority. A silver circlet set with rubies and dragonglass rested on his brow. The boyish uncertainty was gone, replaced by a gaze as deep and unreadable as a mountain lake.
Around the table sat his inner circle: his Kingsguard—Frodo, Sam, Pippin, Merry, and the legendary Ser Barristan Selmy. Selmy had insisted on leaving two seats vacant for "knights of high birth" from the Seven Kingdoms, still hoping to surround Jon with traditional Westerosi nobility.
Jon had rejected the "Small Council" model of King's Landing. Instead, he introduced the Round Table Council. To prevent the kind of systemic corruption seen in men like Petyr Baelish, Jon had split every administrative portfolio—Decision, Oversight, and Enforcement—into three distinct roles to ensure mutual surveillance.
Joining the Kingsguard were Garo and Kapo, overseeing military affairs; Narsas, the Master of Whispers; and Salladhor Saan alongside Blackfox Lena, managing the city's commerce. The liberated prince San En, the Archon's daughter Mia Moses, and the Magister Tansan Domerang served as advisors, representing the delicate balance of the new Tyroshi social order.
"The plan is simple," Jon began, his voice calm but absolute. "All property belonging to the deceased slave-masters is now the collective asset of the Round Table Council. We will hire freemen to work the land and the docks. We shift from forced toil to a regulated cycle: six days of labor from sunrise to sunset, followed by a day of rest."
As he spoke, a striking woman moved gracefully behind the councilors, placing thick dossiers on the table. Sarene, a silver-haired, purple-eyed beauty liberated from Lys, had risen from the ranks of the medical corps to become Jon's personal secretary. She possessed a sharp, administrative mind that belied her former status as a bed slave.
"What are your thoughts on this proposal?" Jon asked, looking around the circle.
"You are truly merciful, Prince Aegon," Tansan Domerang said, his voice dripping with an oily, practiced charm. "But if I may... even an ox needs the lash to remain productive. If you pamper the labor force too much, they may lose their edge. They work best when they fear the hunger."
"You dare speak of the lash here?" San En erupted, his hand slamming onto the table. The former slave's eyes burned with a decade of suppressed fury. "Aegon's mercy is the only reason you aren't hanging from the outer bastion walls, Domerang! The city's trade has stalled because we refused to be cattle any longer. We will work for bread and dignity, not for your whips!"
Tyrosh's economy was a complex machine of 300,000 souls. If it stayed stagnant, the city would starve. Jon's proposal was designed to jumpstart the "Trade Engine" by giving the freedmen a stake in their own survival.
"Quiet," Mia Moses interrupted, her voice cool and authoritative. She looked at both men with a gaze that reminded them she was an Archon's daughter. "Aegon is here for counsel, not a street brawl. Apologize to our Sovereign."
The two men subsided, offering hushed apologies to Jon. Jon watched them with a detached interest. He never expected them to be friends; in fact, their mutual hatred made them easier to govern. As long as they competed for his favor, they wouldn't conspire against him.
"Prince Aegon," Mia continued, turning to Jon. "Your proposal is visionary. It provides the illusion of freedom while maintaining the structure of the state. It is... an evolution of the Pentos model."
Mia understood the subtext. In Pentos, slavery was technically illegal, yet "contracted servants" were often slaves in all but name. Jon's system was a more sophisticated version—higher hidden incentives, but absolute state control.
"If there are no further objections," Jon said, closing the matter, "we will implement this immediately. We cannot afford a dead city. Tyrosh must produce wealth if we are to sustain the wars ahead."
He leaned back, his eyes turning toward Garo. "Now, let us discuss the reorganization of the Legions. Garo, report on our current troop strength and the state of the armories."
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