On Oberyn's ship, several Dornish soldiers waved torches, signaling wildly. Wright, having finished his leak adjusting his pants and scanned the multitude of ships below. It was easy to spot the one with the moving torches. After a closer look, he confirmed it was the vessel carrying Nymeria and the others.
Standing atop the highest point of the Titan's helmet, Wright judged the distance and position before making his move. With a leap, he dived from the Titan's head.
Many sailors and onlookers aboard nearby vessels witnessed the daring act. The Titan was a heavily guarded military bastion, making it nearly impossible for anyone to access, let alone leap from. Most assumed the figure plunging downward was attempting a spectacular suicide, and all eyes followed his descent, expecting a fatal impact with the sea below.
To their disappointment — or astonishment — Wright invoked wind magic as he reached the Titan's knee level. The magic slowed his fall, transforming it into a graceful glide that carried him safely onto Oberyn's ship.
As he landed, Nymeria ran to him and threw her arms around him. "I was terrified when I saw you jump!" she exclaimed.
Wright patted her on the shoulder, offering reassurance. "I'm fine. See? Not a scratch on me."
Tyene approached with both arms outstretched, intending to hug Wright as well.
"Hold on, Tyene," Wright interjected, stepping back. "When is this red skin of mine going to wear off?"
Tyene hesitated, her expression turning slightly sheepish. "Uh… I've never actually taken a restorative potion myself, so I'm not entirely sure."
Feeling a bit snubbed, Tyene pouted while Nymeria gently touched Wright's crimson face. "The potion the Mountain drank was poison. It turned his entire body blue, and even after he was beheaded in King's Landing and sent to Dorne, the effects persisted. The two captives we took in Myr, according to Tyene, said the effects could last at least a month."
Tyene lifted Wright's hand, examining his red-tinted skin closely. "That's different. The poison they took was something I deliberately weakened to prolong its duration. But the potion Wright drank? It's the strongest formula I've ever made. The stronger the potion, the shorter its effects should last."
" The Red Demon of Braavos! Why don't you take a bath in the cabin and see if it helps?" Oberyn quipped, unable to suppress his sarcasm at the sight of the trio's playful interaction.
"Yes, yes, let's try that first!" Tyene grabbed Wright's arm, eagerly leading him toward the cabin.
Meanwhile, Nymeria ran her hand over Wright's chest as they walked. "The Red Demon — very appealing."
---
By the following day, order had been restored in Braavos. Nobles and wealthy merchants convened in the Sealord's Palace to discuss the election of the next Sealord. The official narrative regarding the previous Sealord's death unanimously attributed it to a betrayal by his bodyguard.
Apart from the Sealord election, another pressing matter was the question of compensation from Wright Baratheon. The destruction of Drowned Town by magic was an indisputable fact. However, while the nobles loudly demanded reparations, none dared to formally represent Braavos in drafting an agreement for such compensation. The meeting dragged on until nightfall without resolution.
The consensus was that, despite Qarro Volentin's heinous crimes, his one redeeming act had been the timely evacuation of Drowned Town's residents. The casualties consisted solely of members of the Golden Company. With the ringleader dead and no Braavosi harmed, the tragedy seemed less dire.
Ultimately, it was agreed that the Golden Company would contribute funds toward reconstruction. The nobles and merchants would also provide financial support to establish a luxurious residential district on the ruins of Drowned Town. Displaced residents would receive some compensation and could either purchase new homes in the area or relocate elsewhere.
Harry Strickland, the Golden Company's new Captain-general, expressed his condolences to the displaced residents and admitted the company's culpability. The funds were quickly handed over.
---
Hearing Oberyn recount these developments on the ship, Wright couldn't help but marvel at the shamelessness of the nobles and merchants.
"So, I basically did their dirty work of clearing out a slum for them! Prince Oberyn, could you please contribute funds in my name to their reconstruction project? They'll come up with some excuse to include my stake in the profits. Once the money starts rolling in, I'll split the earnings with you."
"Do you even have that kind of money? This isn't a small sum," Oberyn asked skeptically.
"Since yesterday, I should be listed as a preferred client at the Iron Bank."
"No need to split the money with me. It's just a trivial matter. I'll have someone take care of it for you." Oberyn, after all, was a prince. Helping his son-in-law while charging a fee would be beneath his dignity. With that, he left the cabin to make the necessary arrangements.
---
As Oberyn mentioned delegating the task, Wright realized that Daemon Sand, who usually accompanied the prince, had been absent for the past two days. Oberyn's entourage included intelligence officers, scribes, and other officials, all of whom Wright had seen managing Dornish and Braavosi affairs.
Daemon Sand, however, was merely a knight-errant. His absence for two days, without the authority to handle official matters or even serve as a courier — duties easily handled by soldiers — struck Wright as peculiar. He began to pay closer attention to Daemon Sand's whereabouts.
The city of Braavos, with its history spanning thousands of years, had long perfected the process of electing a Sealord. Within two weeks, a new Sealord would be chosen. Local nobles and wealthy merchants extended invitations to Oberyn and Wright to attend the inauguration ceremony as witnesses.
Wright, however, remained on the ship, avoiding the city altogether. Instead, he spent his time with Tyene and Nymeria, trying to resolve the issue of his colored skin. During this period, they fed him all sorts of concoctions, leaving him noticeably thinner.
As calm returned to Braavos, a flurry of ravens departed the city, swiftly spreading news across the two continents of Essos and Westeros.
\---
King's Landing, Westeros
The positions of Master of Laws and Master of Coin remained vacant. Petyr Baelish, commonly known as Littlefinger, had been recommended by Jon Arryn and was granted the privilege of observing today's Small Council meeting.
Dressed in elegant yet understated attire and wearing the finest perfume King's Landing could offer, Littlefinger greeted everyone he encountered in the Red Keep with practiced charm. His words were expertly chosen to flatter, leaving those who spoke with him in good spirits. Among those with insider knowledge, several had already offered him early congratulations.
Outside the Small Council chamber, Littlefinger adjusted his collar and nodded politely to Ser Lyn Corbray of the Kingsguard, who returned the gesture with a smile before opening the chamber doors.
Though it was Littlefinger's first time entering the Small Council chamber, he exuded composure. Noticing that all the councillors except for Robert Baratheon had already arrived, he bowed respectfully before seating himself in a side observer's chair. The other occupants of the observers' seats, a few minor nobles, received friendly greetings from him — after all, they were mere background figures in today's proceedings.
Before long, King Robert entered the chamber accompanied by Ser Barristan Selmy and Renly Baratheon. As the Captain of the Kingsguard and Acting Archmage, respectively, both men held voting rights in the Small Council. Littlefinger bowed deeply to the king and offered respectful greetings to Barristan and Renly as well.
Yet another figure soon entered: Mace Tyrell, the Lord of Highgarden and Warden of the South. This prompted Littlefinger to glance questioningly at Varys, who was already seated at the council table. The spymaster returned his gaze with a look of equal puzzlement.