Those with higher connections can gain honor with just a small achievement, and Wright cannot ignore the efforts of the rank-and-file soldiers and craftsmen.
In the Tyroshian Navy, twenty people were knighted, and five craftsmen were made Balons.
Ashara led the city defense forces to participate in Dorne's battle, where many were knighted on the battlefield by Nymeria. This time, Wright also arranged for them to line up and make an appearance in the hall.
After the knighthood ceremony, the grand celebration feast began. The nobles left the hall to allow the servants to tidy up the tables and chairs.
People gathered in twos and threes in the castle's corridors, gardens, and squares. Outside the castle gates, carts loaded with large barrels or fine wine bottles continuously arrived, bringing wine sponsored by merchants. After being inspected and approved by the castle's personal guards, it would be placed on the banquet tables.
Wright stood at the castle entrance chatting with the captain of his personal guard, Balon, secretly using magic to check all the wine on the carts. With so many nobles attending, it was hard to tell who had personal grudges. If someone took the opportunity to poison the wine, Wright, as the host, would be blamed.
"Hosting a banquet and not even willing to spend your own money on wine! Does anyone call you stingy, Lord Wright?"
Who would dare speak to Wright like this? Hearing the voice, Balon turned to look and saw Jorah Mormont approaching, but he had not yet spoken.
"Look down!"
The voice came from near Jorah's legs. Balon looked down: "Ah, Ser Tyrion!"
Balon then turned and bowed: "Lord Wright, I'll go check the wine."
Wright nodded, and Balon greeted Jorah and Tyrion before following the wine carts into the castle's side entrance.
As the captain of Wright's personal guard, Balon didn't need great martial skills or magic. But he had to know who had a good relationship with Wright and how close they were. Tyrion was one of those who could casually chat with Wright.
"I'm hosting a banquet for the nobles, and the merchants want to showcase their wines to them. We all have our needs, it's a win-win," Wright smiled at the two. "In the week I've been back, I haven't seen either of you around."
Jorah answered seriously, "We were in Tyrosh, checking out some good products."
"Don't listen to his nonsense. Tyrosh has a booming entertainment industry, and the women are beautiful. Jorah and I changed inns every night!" Tyrion said, gesturing with his hands.
Jorah remained silent.
"We've got every kind of wine today, drink as much as you want!" Wright said, diverting the conversation, seeing Jorah's embarrassed expression.
"Actually, I need to talk to you about something. I have a plan for managing Myr. Save me some time tomorrow afternoon," Tyrion seemed confident.
"Alright, after lunch tomorrow, meet me in my study." Wright agreed, though inwardly he grumbled. Even if the plan was perfect, Tyrion's status would never land him the governorship.
The focus of tonight's banquet was the newly ennobled. They had just entered this social class and needed to seize the opportunity to make connections. Wright kept a low profile throughout the event, but that didn't stop him from being pressured into drinking. He slept until noon the next day.
In the study, Wright and Tyrion sat across from each other at a small desk. Tyrion had a wooden box at his feet.
Wright was carefully reading the documents he'd provided. There were many things Tyrion didn't know, and his management plan had some shortcomings. If Wright filled in those gaps, the overall feasibility of the plan would be much higher.
After finishing, Wright closed the folder but didn't hand it back immediately. Instead, he pressed it under his palm and asked a few off-topic questions. "Tyrion, I handled the Dragon Cult situation in Volantis. How did the Dorne civil war suddenly end? According to our Tyroshian officials, it was supposed to last at least another two months."
Tyrion drank a glass of lemonade and poured another for himself. "Ugh!" He burped, then looked around the study, noting the many strange magical devices. There were only two people present, himself and Wright. "How's the soundproofing here?"
Wright stood up, walked to the bookshelf, pulled a lever, and returned to his seat. "Now even Odahviing's roar can't be heard! Speak."
"Magic is truly amazing!" Tyrion sat up straight. "It's called the Dorne civil war, but from my observations, it's actually just multiple factions pushing both sides to keep fighting. Neither side could stop, even if they wanted to!"
"You know that yourself, just don't say it out loud," Wright chuckled.
"Haha, once enough profit has been made, they just go home and count the money!" Tyrion left it at that, not naming any specific factions he suspected.
Wright feigned ignorance, asking, "Nymeria became the Princess of Dorne, but how did Lord Yronwood die? What happened in between?"
Tyrion replied, "Your wife was forcibly placed on the throne by the Dorne nobles, with a dragon flying overhead. The enemy's army was full of traitors, and every battle went smoothly for them, forcing Yronwood to hide in Sunspear."
"I heard about that before I set sail. What happened next?" Wright poured himself a glass of water.
"Tyrion continued, "Yronwood's army was in full retreat. The nobles following him were either dead, escaped, or captured by us. By the time he reached Sunspear, his forces and supplies were too depleted to launch an offensive. He decided to hold out there, and we besieged them for over half a month without breaking through."
Tyrion recalled many suspicious details from that time: "Do you know what happened when the siege was nearing a month? Lord Yronwood was thrown off the tower by his own men and died on the spot!"
Wright: "A mutiny caused by a lack of food?"
"Impossible. When we entered the city, the food in the warehouses could have lasted another month," Tyrion leaned forward. "Yronwood fell to his death, and his noblemen immediately divided into two factions—those who resisted and those who surrendered. A battle broke out in Yronwood Castle. In the conflict, Yronwood's pregnant daughter was killed, and the Dayne line was completely extinguished. Just then, both Oberyn and Doran woke up from their comas! What are the chances of that?!"
Tyrion stared at Wright, who remained expressionless and firm in his gaze.
Wright: "If you calculate the time, I was in Volantis dealing with the Dragon Cult's high priest Bennero. Maybe it was his curse that caused this. As soon as he died, the curse was lifted."
"Hahaha," Tyrion laughed, and Wright joined in.
"Under the call of the two princes, the war could no longer continue. Only a few nobles who still wanted to resist were killed. Nymeria led the army into the city to celebrate the victory."
"There's both good and bad," Tyrion continued, "When we took Godsgrace, Roger Allyrion said something before he killed himself. He and Lord Yronwood had sent out letters from Dorne and Oberyn, trying to overturn the Baratheon dynasty."
"We also received the letters in Volantis. I've seen them after returning," Wright said nonchalantly, already aware of the matter, while the officials around them were surprised.
Then another event unfolded. Nymeria, Doran, and Oberyn were locked in the library of Yronwood Castle for the whole afternoon. Many passersby heard arguments from inside. The result was known to all—the two princes abdicated due to health reasons, and Nymeria became the Princess of Dorne."
"That process sure had a lot of twists!" Although there had been some changes in the plan, Wright was still satisfied with the result.
"Twists to the point of absurdity! The inheritance of Dorne shifted from Doran's line to Oberyn's line! In the end, Dorne will fall into the hands of your son!" Tyrion, knowing Wright's nature well, joked as he raised his thumb.
Wright neither confirmed nor denied, as it was the truth, and being overly dramatic would have been hypocritical: "Tyrion, with your intelligence, do you really think Tywin only asked you to clean the castle?"
"Don't mention him. If I didn't carry the Lannister name, life would be so much better! Do you have any wine?" Tyrion's mood immediately soured.
Wright knew Tyrion had complicated feelings towards his father, and after a single probing question, Tyrion quickly changed the subject. Wright didn't press further, pointing at the wine cabinet nearby: "There's only pear wine from Volantis here. It's strong."
"Anything with alcohol will do!" Tyrion poured his drink into a flower pot and started pouring himself more wine.
After seeing Tyrion finish a glass, Wright poured him another one and then opened the management plan Tyrion had given him.
"Dorne's situation is settled now. No faction can change that anymore. It will just be a topic for conversation from now on. Let's go back to the matter of Myr. I've looked at your plan, and as long as I make some adjustments according to the situation, it can be executed. But, as you said, 'If only you weren't a Lannister!'"
"Damn Lannisters!" Tyrion muttered bitterly. "Aside from fame and glory, I also like gold dragons. How about you buy my plan and pay me in gold?"
Wright thought for a moment: "No. I'm sure you've already looked into the situation in Myr and its surrounding areas. The plan is fixed, but people are not! No matter how good the plan is, if the one who made it doesn't adjust it according to changes, the entire plan will fall apart. If you don't go to Myr, there's no need to execute this plan."
"If I weren't a Lannister, would you really give me the position of Governor of Myr?" Tyrion took another sip of wine.
Wright poured himself a glass and clinked his cup with Tyrion's. They both took a big gulp. The cup was large enough that it couldn't be emptied in one go.
"I issued order in my name as the Lord of Tyrosh. There aren't many official documents, but if you want, I could find dozens of them. Tyrosh' trade system is based on trust. If I, as Lord, can't fulfill my promises, then how can the entire Tyrosh function?"
"Here's to trust!" The pear wine was strong, and the two took another round, with Tyrion getting a little tipsy.
"Tyrion!" Wright placed his glass back on the table. "The feud between the Baratheons and Lannisters can't be resolved just yet, but personally, you and I get along well. If it weren't for the houses, we might have been very good friends!"
"Good friends!" Tyrion thought to himself that every time he spoke with Wright, they seemed to get along well. "I almost forgot. I brought you a gift."
Tyrion took a wooden box from his feet and placed it on the table, which seemed to have a bit of weight to it.
"This is a good thing! Every tavern in Tyrosh has one now, and they're also quite popular in the Riverlands and Stormlands. Many women have them at home." As Tyrion spoke, he was unwrapping the box, which seemed to be brand new.
"Oh, something trendy in Tyrosh that I, Lord of Tyrosh, don't know about?" Wright was curious.
Inside the box was a pure white stone sculpture. With a 'thunk,' Tyrion, his face flushed from the alcohol, pushed aside the wood shavings and placed the sculpture in the center of the table. Pointing at the sculpture, he looked up at Wright:
"Look! It's you—naked!"
"This!" Wright was also a bit tipsy, leaning in to carefully examine the stone sculpture.
The statue was about thirty centimeters tall, with a square base about five centimeters high. It depicted a muscular man, completely naked, standing with his arms hanging loosely at his sides, his head slightly raised in a proud stance, showcasing his muscles and his masculinity. The exquisite craftsmanship of the statue and the pristine white stone brought every muscle line to life, a true work of an artistic master.
Looking at the head of the statue, it had short, slightly long hair, with determined eyes and a ruggedly handsome face. It looked somewhat like his own reflection in a mirror.
Wright pointed to his own chest with both hands, looking at Tyrion and asking, "Is this me?"
"Exactly you!" Tyrion laughed loudly. "I can't believe it, your ideas are so open-minded! You've become the shared lover of countless women now."
Wright took the statue in his hands, his mind clearing from the alcohol. "Damn, when did I become so open? I never allowed a statue of me to be made. Although the lower half is quite accurate, I never displayed myself like that in public!"
Tyrion took a big sip of wine. "Hehe, just take off your clothes and compare yourself to the statue, see if it's you! I asked Nymeria, and she said it's spot on!"
Wright played with the statue in his hands. "Damn it, I'm the Lord of Tyrosh, Warden of the Narrow Sea, Dragonlord! Am I now going to be casually ogled by people? Who dared to mock me like this? The laws of Westeros aren't a joke!"
Tyrion smirked. "You want to stop it? Then you'll have to arrest and execute every sculptor and merchant in Tyrosh, the Reach, and the Stormlands. And I'm sure you know, a statue like this isn't life-threatening, the more you forbid it, the more people will want to see it."
Wright thought for a moment. "So what do you suggest? Am I just going to be groped by anyone holding my statue?"
"I've got an idea! From what I know, your statue's already spreading everywhere, banning it is impossible. But all the statues sold, the ones that resemble you most, are made in Tyrosh, and they're the priciest. You could tax them!"
Tyrion paused, then laughed to himself.
"Tax them! At the highest luxury tax rate!" Wright made up his mind. "But where did this statue come from?"
"I was told it started in the Reach, then spread from there," Tyrion shrugged, clearly skeptical about the merchant's story.
The statue business was handed over to Galan and the others for taxation. Wright then took out another contract he had prepared in advance and handed it to Tyrion. "This is about Myr, take a look and sign."
"Myr? You want to buy my plan?" Tyrion, with blurry eyes, held the document so close to his face that he couldn't even read it.
"This document's already filed with the king. Myr will officially become part of the kingdom of Westeros, and the king and the council take it seriously, so it's quite detailed. Here, the signature line's on the last page." Wright kindly flipped the document to the last page and handed him a pen.
Tyrion signed without really looking and then slumped over the desk, falling asleep. Wright took his copy and returned to the bedroom.
As he stepped out of the suite's living room, he saw Tyene and Balon directing a dozen or so guards in moving things.
"Careful not to bump the walls!" Balon ran to the wall, pressing his face against it, extending his hand to direct the movement. "Out a bit more, just a little more."
"What's this? Another statue?" Wright noticed something large covered by red cloth.
"Yes!" Tyene wrapped her arm around Wright's, resting her head on his shoulder as they waited for Balon to finish moving. "Balon, lift the cloth and give Wright a surprise!"
"Watch me!" Balon swung his arms, then yanked one corner of the cloth, tossing it into the air. The cloth flew up without touching the statue.
A pure white, life-sized stone sculpture of Wright stood before him.
Tyrion slept until the afternoon, waking up to find his plan had been taken by Wright. A second document, likely left for him by Wright, was under his arm.
Stretching a bit, Tyrion flipped open the document, and the more he read, the more surprised he became.
Wright had hired Tyrion as an advisor for Myr, to assist Tyrosh's army in quelling the Myr rebellion, under the administration of the Myr Governor. If Myr had no governor, then it would be directly managed by the Lord of Tyrosh. After the rebellion was suppressed, Tyrion's advisor role would automatically end, and Wright would pay him 50,000 gold dragons as compensation.
Looking at the list of names of the members of the Small Council and seeing his own name and handprint at the end, Tyrion knew there was no escaping it. He glanced around, then quietly took a few of the finest bottles of wine from the wine cabinet and left the study.