Royal Feast

"No," Aegon answered the stupid question. "He likes feeding," Aegon replied. "Sheep and cattle and pigs. Occasionally man."

"It is," Aegon agreed easily, though it did not seem to bother him. "Worry not, my lady, that treatment is reserved for those who take up arms against the Iron Throne."

That suited Aegon well enough. He turned to his food. Some of it was not bad, Aegon conceded, even if the spices were queer and foreign. "Tyrosh seems to prosper under your rule. For how long have you been its Archon?" Aegon asked, turning his attention back to the Archon.

"How have you increased your profits?" Aegon asked conversationally, sipping more of the pear brandy.

"If there is a possibility to increase such profits further through new trade with Westeros, it seems as though I am a sensible person to speak with on the matter," Aegon replied mildly. "As I am sure you know, Westeros has long needed to focus its efforts on our war. But ships that once needed to guard against our enemies are now free to trade, and iron and timber and other materials needed for weapons might now be shipped elsewhere."

"We have many large mines of both," Aegon confirmed, "Westeros is a vast land with great quantities of natural resources. Tyrosh lacks such things, but there are no superior craftsmen in the world. It seems to me there is room for a deal to be struck that benefits both of us."

"We will need to go over the specifics later, but that sounds like a strong basis for an agreement," Aegon replied.