Chapter 499

Euron was mad—this much even his own supporters would admit. But he was not truly insane or foolish. He would never commit kin-slaying in front of an audience.

Surviving him was easy.

Escaping the fate he had arranged for her—marriage to Erik Ironmaker, a man who, by the law of the Iron Islands, was technically her legitimate husband—was far more difficult. If she wanted to avoid being forcibly sent to House Ironmaker as a docile wife, her best bet was simple: ruin herself.

Feigning submission would spare her life. But to secure her freedom, Asha would take things one step further—she would destroy her own reputation, burning every bridge to ensure she would never again be seen as a suitable wife. Only by dealing with the immediate threat could she plan for the future.

She had already lost her aura of invincibility after her defeats at the Kingsmoot and Deepwood Motte. Now, she would take it further, shattering whatever remained of her worth as a woman. Once, she had dreamt of being the first Queen of the Iron Islands. After today, she doubted she would even be able to live a normal life here again.

But Asha loved these islands. If her own sacrifice could bring a brighter future to the Ironborn, then even if she was torn apart in the process—so be it.
----


“In the endless days and nights after the damned black-cloaks captured me, I was violated and humiliated, over and over again,” Asha declared, tilting her head back as if choking on her own fury. “I have been broken—not only in body but in soul. How could I possibly be fit to serve a new husband, let alone start a new life?” She bared her teeth in a snarl. “Uncle, I beg you—let me reclaim Black Wind, let me rejoin the Iron Fleet, let me fight in this war against the North and the Night’s Watch! Give me the chance to wash away my shame! I swear I will not disappoint you!”

The hall fell into stunned silence.

Asha had seen Black Wind in the harbor as she arrived—her old ship, surrendered by her surviving crew after she had fled Deepwood Motte and been ambushed by Aegor. The ship’s prow and banners had been changed, but she recognized it immediately. She had decided, in that very moment, to add this request.

But it was not her plea for a ship that sent the hall into uproar.

No—that was the result of her previous declaration.

It was a shocking claim, even more so than her surrender mere moments earlier. The crowd had been prepared to mock her, to spit on her name. Now, they had forgotten the script entirely, their whispers and jeers turning into a frenzied, vulgar curiosity.

A voice cut through the commotion.

“That ‘White Walker Slayer’—” A ship captain called out without shame, “—did he fuck you?”

Laughter erupted.

“How many times?”

Asha clenched her jaw.

For a brief moment, she considered staying silent.

But that would not do.

“I never let him touch me,” she answered, her tone clipped.

It was a calculated choice. She could not claim Aegor had raped her—not when she still hoped to use his support in the future. If she spread falsehoods about him without warning, and it reached his ears, she would be left with no allies at all.

But she could plant other doubts.

“I don’t know if it was the vows of the Watch,” she continued, voice laced with scorn, “or if it was simply his tastes. In the Gift, there are whispers that he prefers boys.”

Silence.

Then—

“Wait, wait! The Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch—” someone choked, “—he likes boys?”

The silence cracked, and laughter flooded the hall.

“Aye, aye! Stick enough men together, and you get that kind of man!”

“Hah! That’s why he didn’t touch her—he prefers boys to women!”

The crude speculation set off another wave of jeering.

But then—

“Wait.” A more observant voice spoke. “So you’re saying… the Lord Commander didn’t rape you. But someone did?”

Asha turned her face away, lowered her head, and pressed her lips together.

She let the silence answer for her.

This was the price she had to pay.

The stain of this claim would never wash away. She knew that. She had always been proud—too proud. But if she had to drag herself through the mud to survive, then she would do so without hesitation.

The hall murmured.

Even these hardened Ironborn, men who had come here expecting to shame Asha, found themselves hesitating. Before, they had seen her as an arrogant woman, a failure, one deserving of ridicule.

But this?

This was something else entirely.

Even House Ironmaker—those who were supposed to take her in—wavered.

Asha had never been seen as chaste. The Ironborn didn’t expect her to be a virgin—least of all a man like Erik Ironmaker, who had sought her as a prize, not a wife.

But there was a difference between a warrior princess with lovers and a spoiled woman who had been used by the enemy.

They could accept a bride who had lain with men of her choosing.

But one who had been taken by their sworn enemies?

That was shame.

That was disgrace.

That was unacceptable.

“Fucking Watch bastards,” someone spat. “That’s what they do? They take our women?”

The anger in the hall shifted.

No longer directed at Asha.

Now, it was aimed at her captors.

At the Watch.

At their enemies.

Men were always willing to fight over their women. It was instinct. The moment she ceased being an Ironborn traitor and became an Ironborn victim, their fury turned outward.

Euron Greyjoy observed it all with a smirk.

Clever, he thought. Very clever.

She had saved herself.

For now.

If he forced the Ironmakers to take her after this, it would look like a humiliation—not for her, but for Erik himself. And that would not sit well with the old man.

But Asha had only delayed her fate. She had won this battle, but she had not yet won the war.

Euron clapped his hands.

The hall fell silent.
----


Euron descended from the Seastone Chair, his boots clicking against the stone floor.

“I see no unreasonable request here,” he said smoothly, his voice carrying through the chamber. “As your dear uncle, I should be inclined to grant it…” He reached the floor, now walking toward Asha. “Alas, every ship in the Iron Fleet belongs to the people of these islands. Each has a captain. Each has an owner. Even as king, I have no right to strip a captain of their ship for my own amusement.”

He stopped just in front of her.

“So, Ironborn—” His voice lifted. “What say you? Should I return Black Wind to my dear niece?”

The hall erupted in debate.

Some sneered—mocking Asha, questioning if she was still pretending to be Balon’s “son.” Others, more pragmatic, considered whether her skills as a captain might yet be of use to the Iron Fleet.

Asha smirked.

She hadn’t expected to win her ship back. That wasn’t the point.

Ask for everything, settle for survival.

All she needed was a reason to stay.

To remain on Pyke.

To stay close to Euron.

To find the right moment to kill him.
----


But just as she thought herself safe, Euron moved.

She barely registered it before—

His arms closed around her.

A hug?

No—a trap.

Iron fingers clamped around her wrists, yanking them behind her back in an unbreakable grip.

“Uncle?” she gasped, staring up at him in confusion.

Then—

Euron pulled off his eyepatch.

Asha looked.

And her w