Chapter 58

In Winterfell, a steward or servant would undoubtedly have enthusiastically arranged Aegor’s lodging and meals for the night, but this was Dragonstone. Stannis Baratheon’s dictionary likely didn’t include the word "hospitality." Guided by a guard, the Night’s Watch ranger was promptly escorted out of the castle gates into the pitch-black night. A kind soldier handed him a torch, though there were no wolves or White Walkers on the island. For a seasoned ranger, a few miles of night travel was hardly intimidating. Under the pale moonlight, Aegor stumbled his way toward the fishing village by the shore.

The ship was still docked, much to his relief. The captain and the old miner, along with his son, bombarded him with nervous questions about what had happened. Naturally, he couldn’t share the truth with these ordinary folk. Instead, he brushed it off with a vague excuse about a case of mistaken identity. After retrieving his coin pouch, he returned to his cabin aboard the ship.

The return journey to King’s Landing was starkly different from the voyage out. The nighttime headwinds and currents of Blackwater Bay made it impossible to make quick progress. Setting out at midnight would only mean that Dragonstone would still be visible come dawn. With no other choice, the ship remained moored in the small harbor for another night. At sunrise, they finally set sail. Standing at the stern, watching the island recede into the distance, Aegor let out a heavy sigh.

The dragonglass mining expedition had originally been a side project, a minor step in his grand plan. According to his initial strategy, all subsequent matters were to be handled by the old miner and his son. He would merely provide the funding and leave the logistics to them, sparing himself any further involvement. Yet, who could have foreseen that such a simple trip would embroil him in the machinations of the Lord of Light and the Cold God? Who could have guessed he’d hear so many "truths" from Melisandre—truths that he couldn’t even verify?

Since their authenticity remained uncertain, there was no point in overthinking it. Aegor resolved to live in the present and focus on the tasks at hand.

...

Sailing against the Blackwater River’s current as it rushed eastward into the Narrow Sea, the small vessel rocked on the water for over a day and a night before finally reaching King’s Landing’s harbor. Four days after leaving the capital, Aegor once again stepped onto Westerosi soil. After giving the old miner some quick instructions regarding his address and the project’s next steps, he entered the city through Mud Gate, returning to the Albatross Inn by midday.

To his surprise, Tyrion Lannister was not only present but wasted no time in knocking on his door as soon as he learned Aegor had returned.

"Finally! You’re back! During your two days on Dragonstone, I couldn’t even enjoy the taverns or brothels."

The dwarf’s opening line left Aegor utterly baffled, though Tyrion quickly elaborated. "I’ve been stuck in my room, thinking about this ‘finance’ you mentioned. Day and night, I couldn’t stop turning it over in my mind—I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep."

"Did you figure anything out?" Aegor asked, somewhat surprised by Tyrion’s urgency. Still, this discussion was entirely within his expectations, a welcome change from the unpredictability of Melisandre and her blood rituals. Unlike someone like Eddard Stark or Stannis Baratheon, who might dismiss such concepts as fraud without a second thought, Tyrion was different. Smart people were smart because they approached new ideas with an open mind. That was why Aegor enjoyed dealing with them—it saved effort. "You must’ve realized by now that, if the game of thrones is about deciding how to divide the cake, then the game of finance is about making the cake bigger. Whichever game is more important or complex aside, in terms of contribution to the world, the latter far outweighs the former."

"I won’t argue with that," Tyrion said, though he frowned slightly. "But you shouldn’t try to confuse concepts to smooth things over—at least, not with me. No matter how you spin it, you have to admit: this is a scam."

Of course, Aegor hadn’t fooled him. Four days was more than enough time for Tyrion’s sharp mind to circle back to the truth. Aegor tensed slightly, wondering how best to respond. "Tyrion—"

"Don’t waste time crafting excuses," Tyrion interrupted, reading Aegor’s expression like a book. "Just admit it."

"Fine, I admit it," Aegor said, realizing that Tyrion’s tone didn’t sound like someone about to reject the idea outright. In fact, it hinted at interest. Seizing the opportunity, Aegor explained, "Yes, I’m attempting a financial scam—a Ponzi scheme. Back in my homeland, a man named Charles Ponzi used this trick to deceive tens of thousands of people. That’s why it’s named after him."

"And how was his scam uncovered?"

"In order to compete with legitimate financial projects, he promised outrageous returns but didn’t make any real investments or operations. Worse, he squandered the funds he raised. This quickly broke the cash flow. Once he couldn’t even pay the promised interest—let alone the principal—the scheme fell apart, even if the investors hadn’t caught on."

"Just as I predicted," Tyrion said, raising an eyebrow. He looked Aegor directly in the eye and declared, "I’ll join your plan, but only if you agree to three conditions."

Just like that? Standing in the doorway of an unremarkable room at the Albatross Inn, Aegor felt a strange shiver of excitement. He suddenly realized that this straightforward conversation between friends, devoid of intrigue or pretense, might one day alter the course of Westeros’ history. After a brief pause, he nodded. "Let’s hear them."

"First, every step of this ‘fundraising’ must be discussed with me, and you’ll explain your reasoning so I can participate. Second, I’ll manage the funds. The money will be kept in a separate residence I’ll rent, and no withdrawals will happen without my approval," Tyrion said, his tone deadly serious. "Third, if the plan fails, I’ll cover the losses, but you must promise never to try this scheme elsewhere. I’ll find you a proper job. With your mind, you don’t need scams to thrive. That’s all. Your decision?"

...

The first two conditions were easy to understand. Despite their fast friendship, born of mutual admiration and shared intellect, they had only known each other for a few months. Tyrion was understandably cautious, fearing that Aegor might squander the funds or abscond with the money. Since Aegor had no intention of doing either, he readily agreed. As for the third condition, with King’s Landing being Westeros’ population and economic hub—and with a northern Hand of the King and a Lannister ally—it was the ideal setting for the scheme. If they couldn’t pull it off here, they certainly wouldn’t succeed elsewhere.

Without hesitation, Aegor replied, "Reasonable requests. I agree to all of them."

"Good," Tyrion said, nodding in satisfaction. He scrutinized Aegor for a moment, his sharp gaze softening into mock concern. "But did you really go to Dragonstone? You look like you’ve spent three days and nights in a brothel—completely drained."

"Is it that bad?" Aegor chuckled. In truth, he’d spent sleepless nights mulling over Melisandre’s revelations, trying to discern fact from fiction. Tyrion didn’t even believe in White Walkers, so Aegor knew better than to broach the topic. "Seasick. Didn’t sleep well."

"Do you need to rest?"

"I’ll jot down a list first. Have Morros and Jack handle the purchases. I’ll take a nap, and once everything’s ready, we can begin."

...

"Excellent. I’m almost too excited to wait," Tyrion admitted, grinning like a child about to unwrap a new toy. "The game of money... just thinking about it feels more thrilling than drinking or bedding women."

"Tyrion, you’re the most adventurous person in Westeros I’ve met," Aegor said with a smirk.

"Hmph." Tyrion, immune to flattery, scoffed. "You said it yourself—‘in Westeros.’ This little venture doesn’t interfere with my drinking or womanizing, nor does it endanger my life. That’s the only reason I find it interesting enough to try. Compared to someone who’s crossed the Sunset Sea, I’m just a backwater yokel."

"Alright, enough mutual admiration. I’ll draft the supplies list. By this afternoon, we’ll begin preparations to issue Night’s Watch bonds."

...