The Mountain of Ice and Fire

Jon Clinton stood up, his body as straight as a spear. With his stern demeanor, he possessed a natural sense of authority.

He first glanced at the Mountain.

With the King taking the lead, an exchange of glances beforehand was both a courtesy and a necessity before speaking.

The Mountain saw Jon's expression, and he knew what the Hand wanted to say. Jon Clinton, like Eddard Stark, was a rare individual in the kingdom, naturally upright, just, and courageous. Both were capable of commanding armies on horseback and governing the people off it. Jon possessed even greater military talent and political acumen than Eddard, which was why the Mountain had 'confined' Jon to the Red Keep in King's Landing to serve as his Hand.

The Mountain shook his head at Jon. Jon insisted, but the Mountain raised his glass: "Lord Hand, I offer you a toast."

Jon Clinton had no choice but to raise his glass; it was a basic courtesy, and he couldn't refuse on this occasion. This wasn't a private affair but the first intercontinental political conference. Rejecting the King's toast would undermine His Majesty's dignity and subtly diminish his authority in the eyes of the Dothraki, the Summer Islanders, the Good Masters of Slaver's Bay, and the Prince-Governors of the Free Cities.

Jon filled his glass and drank it down with the King.

"Sit," the Mountain said.

Jon Clinton slowly sat down: "Your Majesty, I fear these lords are becoming intoxicated, which is detrimental to conducting state affairs."

The Mountain rose, walked over to the Hand, and sat down: "Lord Hand, look closely. Those who are freely drinking are not the governors, princes, or kings, but their generals and subordinate nobles. Those in charge are remaining sober."

Jon was skeptical but scanned the table. Sure enough, those who were freely drinking and playing drinking games were not the rulers of cities but the generals and subordinates of their vassals.

"But this isn't a serious political conference," Jon said solemnly.

"You're afraid it will hinder the administration of state affairs and that the atmosphere won't be conducive to good laws?"

"Yes." Jon was secretly surprised that His Majesty could see into his thoughts.

Littlefinger approached with a wine glass and a smile, eager to join in: "Your Majesty, may I offer you a toast?"

"Of course!" The Mountain slammed his goblet heavily on the table. "Fill it!"

"As you command, Your Majesty."

A short distance away, Tyrion Lannister was drinking bright red Arbor Gold from a horn goblet. He had grown a full, thick beard, and the scar on his face made him look ugly and ferocious: "Polliver, aren't you going to offer the King a toast?"

"The King is about to hold a political conference. I won't offer His Majesty a toast before the official meeting," Polliver said, his right eye twitching and his right cheek spasming. He would do this when he drank too much. This habitual twitching would occur in three situations: when he saw exquisite human organs, when he drank, and when he argued with someone or fought with abandon. The current situation was caused by drinking.

"Are you worried that His Majesty will drink too much and it will affect the state affairs?" Tyrion teased. He never thought that the neurotic Polliver would be so thoughtful and considerate.

"I'm not worried, but there are too many people here. If everyone comes forward to offer His Majesty a toast, he will drink several barrels."

Tyrion chuckled: "Polliver, don't you know that this is the official political conference right now?"

"How is that possible?" Polliver's eyes widened, and the twitching on his right cheek intensified. It was uncomfortable to watch, and it made Tyrion want to touch his own right cheek, feeling as if his right eye wanted to blink and his right cheek wanted to twitch as well.

"The King's banquet is the political conference. Queen Daenerys' Good Masters, the Elephant and Tiger Parties of Volantis, the princes of the Summer Isles, the governors of the Free Cities, and the Dothraki Khals have all arrived. The King thought they had traveled too far and were too tired, so he held a banquet-style political conference. When His Majesty thinks the time is right, he will address the state affairs."

"Oh! If His Majesty has arranged it this way, then it must be the best." Polliver's loyalty to and blind faith in the Mountain had reached the point of a believer's faith in a god.

At the head table, the Mountain had returned to his seat and was whispering something to Queen Jeyne. A Volantene nobleman, Joff of the Tiger Party, stood up. He had a golden horn goblet, which he had brought himself, engraved with Volantis's man-made wonder of the world: the Long Bridge.

Joff carried a wineskin in one hand and held the horn goblet in the other, striding towards the head table. He came to the Mountain's side: "Your Majesty, Queen Majesty, in the name of the gods of the sky, earth, and sea, please allow me to offer Your Majesty and Queen Majesty three toasts."

The Mountain shouted: "Fill it!"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Joff said. He was radiant, and a sense of superiority welled up within him. The King and Queen had accepted his toast, which was an honor.

"Queen Majesty, I am Joff of the Tiger Party from Volantis." Joff first poured wine for Queen Jeyne, introducing himself to her. Jeyne was meeting most of the people at the table for the first time, Joff included.

"Oh, are you the Tiger Party leader, Lord Joff?" Jeyne said with a smile.

"Queen Majesty has heard of my name? This is truly my highest honor," Joff said, his eloquence evident.

"I heard the King say that you put in a great deal of effort in Volantis, helping His Majesty and Lord Eddard to streamline political affairs, trade, taxation, military matters, and many other state affairs. The King will also reward you with a dragon."

Joff had come to offer a toast precisely to remind the King to fulfill his promise and reward him with a dragon. Joff had seen all three of the Queen Majesty's small dragons. Lady was white with crimson and gold striped scales, her mother was Sheepstealer, and her father was Viserys; Knight had black scales inlaid with gold trim, his father was Black Dread Drogon, and his mother was Sheepstealer; and the small dragon that the King had promised him was named Tehm, golden with bronze-green spots, his father was Rhaegal, and his mother was Sheepstealer.

Queen Jeyne's words reassured Joff greatly. The weight lifted from his heart, and since the Queen had proactively mentioned that he would be rewarded with a dragon, there was no need to bring it up again during the toast. He would simply offer a sincere toast.

Joff raised his glass, filled it, and drank three large cups in one go, bowing to His Majesty and Queen Majesty again and offering many beautiful words of praise before retiring contentedly.

Daenerys Targaryen looked peculiar, her beautiful eyes shining brightly: "Your Majesty, Queen Majesty, are you going to give him Tehm?"

"Yes!" The Mountain and Jeyne said together.

Daenerys smiled, beautifully and charmingly: "Well then, Your Majesty, Queen Majesty, I will also offer you three toasts, for Tehm." Daenerys's eyes met the Mountain's, and she knew what was going on. That Joff's greed deserved death. What exactly was in his head? To actually believe that His Majesty would reward him with a dragon?! He was unbelievably stupid. Daenerys didn't yet know what outrageous things the Tiger Party's Joff had done that made His Majesty want to burn him to death with the little dragon Tehm.

The Mountain said: "Queen Majesty, if you are going to offer a toast, you must fill it like them."

"As you command, Your Majesty," Daenerys said with a smile.

Missandei, although already the Queen Majesty's chief affairs officer, still stood by Daenerys's side as her handmaiden in such occasions, serving the Queen. She filled Daenerys's glass, and Daenerys drank three cups in a row, the golden liquid flowing down her delicate and perfect chin onto her chest. The Queen did not mind; her wandering and arduous life experience had made her both rugged and refined, both gentle and heroic.

"Your Majesty, it is not advisable to drink any more," Jon Clinton said in a low voice. "Littlefinger has also come over, and I fear that later there will be hundreds of people lining up to offer toasts to the King and Queen. I have never seen a political conference like this." Jon spoke euphemistically. With his character, he would definitely scold the King severely after returning, or in private when no one was around, without holding back.

Littlefinger walked over with a wine glass and a grinning smile, swaying and hiccuping. A foreign handmaiden was dressed scantily, and Littlefinger didn't forget to touch the handmaiden's buttocks as he passed by, laughing as the handmaiden looked down at him: "Are you free tonight? Beautiful girl."

The handmaiden immediately blushed with shame.

"Still a virgin?" Littlefinger said in an incredulous tone, then laughed loudly. The surrounding nobles also laughed along.

"I don't lack gold, little girl. Tell me who your master is? If you don't say, it doesn't matter, I will find him." Littlefinger, who spoke smoothly and walked smoothly, came to the Mountain's presence. "My respected, great, invincible, wise, life-saving, and also heart-breaking King Majesty, please accept the sincere tribute of your servant." Littlefinger bowed deeply.

The Mountain looked at Littlefinger without saying a word.

"Your Majesty, I want to offer you three large cups of wine. Whether you accept it or not, I will fill it." Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle, Littlefinger filled the glass and drank a horn cup in one gulp.

"Littlefinger, I am about to announce important state affairs. You must stay sober for me. Otherwise, I will strip you naked and throw you into the pool in front of these lords."

Littlefinger hiccuped and quickly covered his mouth, taking a moment to catch his breath. He looked apologetic: "I am very sorry, Your Majesty. I drank too quickly just now. But rest assured, I will carry out your announced state affairs without error."

Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle!

Littlefinger drank three large cups in a row: "King Majesty, I have a request."

"Speak!"

"After I return to Braavos, can I also hold political conferences in this form?"

"Yes."

"Really? That's great. Thank you, King Majesty. I love you to death. You are the greatest king."

"Littlefinger, if you hold a political conference in this form even once, I will chop off your head."

Littlefinger's smile immediately froze on his face, his one eye blinked, blinked, blinked, and his right cheek twitched slightly, which was definitely related to Polliver's habitual twitching.

"Your Majesty, I would still like my head to stay on my neck for a while longer."

"Then take back your request."

"Yes, King Majesty." Littlefinger shrugged, revealing a large, self-deprecating smile. "King Majesty, I... have another... small request."

"Speak!"

"Please allow me to offer Queen Majesty three cups of wine."

Jeyne smiled slightly, raising her small white jade wine cup. Her wine cup was extremely small, like a thumb, and even if it was filled each time, it really couldn't hold much: "Fill it!"

"I knew Queen Majesty would give me honor," Littlefinger said with great joy. Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle, he filled the glass, drank it down in a few gulps, then raised his glass to show everyone, and everyone cheered and applauded together.

After Littlefinger left, as Prime Minister Jon had expected, more nobles stood up and came forward to offer toasts, but they were blocked by the Kingsguard.

The Mountain looked at Master of Whisperers Bernie Clegane. Bernie Clegane was a short man, a little taller than a dwarf. He came nimbly to the King's side: "King Majesty, the people I arranged are counting, there will be no mistakes."

Counting?

Yes!

The Mountain had Bernie find about thirty shrewd people who were good at counting, divided the work into sections and tables, and recorded the number of cups of wine that each governor, prince, and king drank, as well as the types of wine, and even the way they drank, the types of dishes they liked to eat, and so on, all secretly recording in detail and perfectly.

As for what they would do with the statistics, the King didn't say, and Bernie didn't dare to ask.

The Mountain waved his hand, and Bernie retreated silently. The Mountain slowly stood up: "My lords, I have almost drunk my fill of wine at today's political conference. While I can still stay sober, I will announce a few things."

Announce?

Wasn't it said that they would be meeting to discuss?

Was he just announcing it directly?

Had His Majesty drunk too much wine?

Some shrewd figures became active in their minds.

"These political proposals have already been discussed in detail and perfected by me and the senior officials of the Small Council, and several governors, so I won't waste time talking nonsense at the banquet. First: currency unification. From now on, the currency circulating in the market will uniformly use Clegane paper money. For every paper bill issued by Clegane Bank, there will inevitably be corresponding gold stored in the Iron Bank. Paper money and gold coins can be freely exchanged at Clegane Bank. Each local governor, prince, and king will automatically become a partner of the local Clegane Bank, accounting for 40%, and you will need to contribute real gold and silver to the Clegane Bank branch."

Instantly, the huge restaurant became silent.

The major matter of using paper money for transactions was decided just like that?

Most governors, Good Masters, and princes were stunned.

The political letters they received said that they would be coming to a meeting to discuss and then vote. The letter given by the Prime Minister also said that if some places were too resistant and the people were unwilling to accept it, there would be a grace period.

But now listening to His Majesty's words, that grace period had also been canceled.

Meeting and voting?

They were completely overthinking it!

The King directly issued the decision!

The princes of the Summer Isles felt their mouths were full of bitterness. Their people were firmly unwilling to use any paper money to replace gold, silver, and copper coins.

"No matter how unacceptable it is to you, and I know it will be difficult for your people to accept it all at once, I want you to give me one year. In this one year, you must fully cooperate with Clegane Bank to conduct paper money transactions. If after one year people are still resistant and paper money cannot replace gold coins, then it will be suspended." The Mountain scanned the entire room. "I have finished speaking about the first matter. Which lord has any questions?"