Lady Olenna glanced impatiently, her gaze like one looking at a fool. She took the strange-looking object and, urged by her son, reluctantly put it on.
The world in the Queen of Thorns' eyes solidified for an instant. Then, all the blurry color blocks and hazy outlines were instantly wiped clean by an invisible hand. The roses outside the window, the veins of every petal, were clearly visible. The cracks in the bricks on the distant tower were perfectly clear. She could even see the slight trembling of her son's fat face from excitement.
Lady Olenna was stunned. The turbidity faded from her eyes, which had witnessed the changing tides of the Seven Kingdoms, and a sharp light, comparable to a falcon spotting its prey, burst forth.
"Fool!" Lady Olenna suddenly turned her head, staring intently at her son, cursing incessantly. Her voice was not loud, but it was like incredibly cold ice, freezing Lord Mace Tyrell's triumphant smile. "You fat fool!"
"Mother, how could you...!" Lord Mace Tyrell was stunned.
"You think this is just a toy?" Lady Olenna's voice turned cold, as if she were looking at a pig. "This is the key that will make all the old maesters in Oldtown, who are blind and cannot see clearly, kneel and kiss your feet!"
"This is the mountain of gold that will make King's Landing, Tyrosh, Myr, Lys, Pentos... all the fat bishops, nobles, wealthy merchants, governors, and slave masters empty their treasuries to enjoy life!"
"You sent a mountain of gold away with just a thousand gold dragons?"
Lady Olenna suddenly struck the armrest repeatedly on the ground, making a sound. Lord Mace Tyrell's face turned pale: "Erick! Aric!"
Two identical figures appeared at the door. They were the Queen of Thorns' most loyal twin guards.
"Go! Bring that merchant named Roderick back to me! Alive!"
Roderick was pacing around the castle, muttering to himself, this damned maze, he was lost, and still hadn't gotten out of Highgarden's labyrinthine garden, until he was stopped by two expressionless knights.
Roderick was brought back to the opulent hall, but this time, seated in the main position, was the Queen of Thorns, who made his spine tingle and cold sweat break out. Lord Mace Tyrell stood behind his mother, not saying a word.
Under Lady Olenna's empty, cloudy, yet all-seeing gaze, Roderick dared not conceal anything. He revealed everything, from how he was intercepted, to how he met Arthur, his ruthless methods, the seven-three split cooperation agreement, and the young Lord's claim that he still had stock.
Lady Olenna listened quietly, her fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest. In the entire hall, there was only the faint sound of her fingertips tapping wood and Roderick's nervous breathing.
Lady Olenna repeated softly, her eyes flashing with a chilling calculating light as she pondered: "Interesting, a minor Lord from the Riverlands..."
Finally, she looked at Roderick, waved the spectacles in her hand, and slowly spoke: "You go back and tell that young man named Arthur."
"House Tyrell is willing to buy all the clear-sighted spectacles he has for one thousand gold dragons each."
Roderick's breathing stopped! All of them! He had to immediately empty all his assets! Get good quality crystals! Make them for Arthur! Ten! That's ten thousand gold dragons! Twenty! That's twenty thousand gold dragons! He could get three thousand or even six thousand gold dragons! Even more!
Lady Olenna's gaze turned to him: "You, Roderick, facilitate this transaction, and I will give you an additional three hundred gold dragons as a reward."
Although Roderick felt that three hundred gold dragons were completely insignificant to him now, he still had to show gratitude! His knees buckled! He almost knelt down!
Lady Olenna's voice turned cold, lowered, carrying an irresistible authority, as if the person in front of her was Arthur, as she threw out her true price: "Additionally,"
"We will pay an additional two thousand gold dragons."
"To buy out the time it takes for us to produce imitations."
"Which means, during this time, he, I forget his name, cannot produce this item again, nor is he allowed to sell it to anyone else. You must personally watch him swear by the name of the deity he believes in."
Roderick, sweating cold, listened to Lady Olenna's undeniable tone, bowed, and withdrew.
Seeing Roderick had left, Lord Mace Tyrell, who had been standing by, was greatly alarmed and finally couldn't help but speak: "Mother! So many gold dragons! This... isn't this too generous? We could have completely..."
"Shut up, you fool." Lady Olenna didn't even turn her head.
But in the end, Lady Olenna seemed to be thinking about something, and still decided to turn and explain to her obtuse son. She looked at her son, who still had a confused and somewhat troubled expression:
"Do you think we're spending over twenty thousand gold dragons to buy those dozen broken crystal pieces?"
"What we're buying is time!"
"Until our Highgarden craftsmen can replicate this item, not a second pair can appear on the market!"
"We will immediately organize people, use the best crystals, the best craftsmen, and replicate day and night without stopping!"
"When we have hundreds, thousands of pairs in our hands, then we'll take them all out at once!"
"Sell it to the High Septon of King's Landing, sell it to the Iron Bank of Braavos, sell it to the governors of the Free Cities, sell it to the Wise Masters of Yunkai, sell it to those slave masters who are rolling in money but can't even read a contract!"
"At that time, do you think one pair will only be worth a thousand gold dragons?"
"They will be willing to spend three thousand, five thousand, or even ten thousand gold dragons, to enjoy their brief, sordid lives, to buy back their youth and power!"
Lady Olenna's words shocked Lord Mace Tyrell. He widened his eyes, seemingly enlightened, his face flushed with excitement.
Roderick was sent out of the city, feeling cold all over. He finally understood how ridiculous merchants were in the eyes of true power players in Westeros.
He held a token given by Lady Olenna, engraved with the rose seal of House Tyrell, and once again set out on the road north to the Riverlands. The carriage sped along, but his mood was a hundred times more complex than when he arrived. It was no longer pure ecstasy, but a mix of fear. His merchant's sensitivity told him that this matter would bring him danger.
He was a merchant, and of course, he knew Lady Olenna's plan. He knew it would be a huge sum of money, but what did that wealth have to do with him? In Westeros, nobles were the true masters. He just had to take his share of the money and leave. Roderick clenched his hand.
But he felt a little unwilling.
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