Chapter 208: The Logare Question

The longer Larra Rogare remained in King’s Landing, the less concerned I became about Larra Rogare.

The problem was her family.

Aerion had stopped pretending that his interest in her was casual. He did not follow her around the Red Keep like an overeager boy, but the difference between courtesy and preference had become obvious enough that even Maelor noticed.

Aerion found reasons to join walks he would previously have avoided, attended suppers he normally considered tedious, and somehow developed enough patience to sit through discussions of Lyseni banking practices without looking towards the nearest door.

Larra encouraged him without making herself ridiculous.

She watched him train, questioned him about Tyraxes, and began joining our family rather than merely appearing before the court as a foreign guest. Aemma liked her. Rhaena seemed comfortable around her. Even Sara, whose judgement of strangers was rarely softened by titles, described Larra as sensible.

That should have made the decision easier. Instead, it made the consequences of choosing poorly more irritating.

I remembered House Rogare.

Not every detail. Years had passed since Heinrich Adler sat in Dresden surrounded by books about Targaryen history, and even then the Rogares occupied less of my attention than dragons, civil wars, and the succession crises that repeatedly consumed the dynasty. Yet certain names remained because their downfall had once seemed almost absurdly rapid.

Lysandro Rogare would die. His brother Drazenko would follow him within a day. Then the bank would pass into the hands of Lysandro’s eldest son, Lysaro. That was where the decline became harder to ignore.

Lysaro Rogare would prove extravagant, arrogant, and sufficiently careless with other people’s money to turn one of the richest banking families in Lys into an enemy of rival magisters. Embezzlement, political enemies, reckless spending, and family rivalries would combine until the Rogare influence collapsed with astonishing speed.

At least, that was what should have happened. History had already stopped obeying me in hundreds of smaller ways.

The Dance had not unfolded as I remembered because I had spent years changing it. Aegon died at Honeyholt rather than ruling from King’s Landing. Daemon died above the Gods Eye under different circumstances. Baela was dead, Rhaenyra was queen, Daeron ruled Oldtown, and House Galeris controlled the Arbor.

Perhaps the Rogares would fall exactly as history recorded. Perhaps marrying Larra to Aerion would change them before they could. I disliked decisions where both possibilities were equally dangerous.

I called Vaeron first. He arrived in my solar carrying three ledgers and an expression suggesting he had already discovered something worth disliking.

"You asked me to look into House Rogare," he said. "I assumed you wanted more than the information every merchant in King’s Landing can provide."

"That assumption is why I asked you rather than a merchant."

Vaeron placed the ledgers upon the table.

"The Rogare Bank is extraordinarily wealthy, but the family’s power is less secure than Lysandro’s letter makes it appear. Their interests extend across Lys, Tyrosh, Volantis, and several smaller ports. They lend heavily to merchants and magisters, finance ships, hold property through related families, and maintain agreements with trading houses that would take months to untangle properly."

"That sounds stronger rather than weaker."

"It would be, if all of it belonged cleanly to one man."

He opened the first ledger. "Lysandro is the head of House Rogare and the central figure holding most of those relationships together. His brother Drazenko controls several political connections inside Lys and appears to manage a large portion of the family’s dealings with the magisters. Other relatives oversee individual branches, but the bank functions because Lysandro and Drazenko keep those interests aligned."

Exactly as I remembered. "What happens if both men die?"

Vaeron looked at me. "That is a particularly specific question."

"Indulge me."

"The eldest son inherits the family position unless Lyseni arrangements prove more complicated than our reports suggest. That would be Lysaro."

"And what do we know about him?"

Vaeron’s expression changed slightly. "That he spends."

"How much?"

"Enough that several merchants mentioned it without being asked."

That was not encouraging.

Vaeron continued. "He maintains an expensive household, gambles, keeps horses, sponsors entertainments, and apparently believes clothing becomes more respectable in direct proportion to the number of gemstones attached to it. None of that proves incompetence. Wealthy heirs have behaved worse and still inherited functioning estates."

"What about the bank?"

"He has no serious reputation as a banker." Vaeron turned another page. "There are also disagreements between House Rogare and several Lyseni magisters. Nothing unusual by itself. Every wealthy family accumulates enemies. The concern is that Lysandro appears to be the person preventing those disputes from becoming open conflict."

I leaned back. The shape of the future I remembered was beginning to show itself without me telling him where to look.

"Bring Tyland and Lyman tomorrow," I said. "I want their view before we decide anything involving Aerion."

Vaeron closed the ledger. "You are worried the family is less stable than the daughter."

"Much less."

"You like Larra."

"I do."

"That makes this inconvenient."

"Most important decisions seem designed around that principle."

Rhaenyra found me later that evening reading the same reports. She closed the door behind her and glanced towards the papers. "You have spent three days investigating the Rogares and have somehow become less pleased with them."

"Larra is not the issue."

"Aerion will be delighted to hear that."

"He should not be. Her family may become the issue for him."

Rhaenyra sat opposite me. I explained what I remembered carefully. There was no reason to pretend my knowledge came from ordinary deduction while speaking privately with her. She had heard enough of my supposed dragon dreams over the years to understand that some of them originated from memories I could never explain publicly.

"Lysandro dies," I said. "His brother Drazenko dies within a day of him. The family’s position then passes to Lysaro, who proves spectacularly unsuited to preserving it. He spends recklessly, angers rival magisters, and becomes involved in embezzlement. House Rogare declines quickly afterwards."

Rhaenyra listened without interrupting. "How quickly?"

"A few years, perhaps less, before the first serious problems begin."

"And you are certain?"

"No. I remember what happened in the history I knew. That history no longer exists exactly as I remember it. Lysandro could live longer. Drazenko could survive him. Lysaro might behave differently because circumstances change. I cannot reject every alliance because I once saw that someone’s grandchildren became incompetent."

Rhaenyra considered the point. "But you also cannot pretend you know nothing."

"Exactly."

She looked towards the closed door. "And meanwhile Aerion is becoming attached to the girl."

"He is."

"So is she."

I had noticed. The previous afternoon, Larra had joined Aerion near the Dragonpit while Tyraxes was being fed. She remained behind the safety line without complaint, but Aerion stayed beside her rather than joining the dragonkeepers until Tyraxes settled. Afterwards they walked back together and spent most of supper speaking quietly enough that Rhaegar eventually moved seats to escape them.

It was no longer merely Aerion chasing a beautiful guest. They liked each other. That complicated everything.

The following morning, Vaeron returned with Tyland Lannister and Lyman Beesbury.

Tyland had enough experience with wealthy families to treat House Rogare with less awe than most Westerosi nobles. Lyman approached the matter from the opposite direction, caring little about Lyseni prestige but very much about whether the Rogare Bank could actually honour whatever financial promises appeared in a marriage contract.

We met without the full council. There was no need to turn Aerion’s possible marriage into a formal royal debate before deciding whether the proposal deserved one.

Lyman began with the dowry. "It is enormous."

Tyland glanced towards him. "You sound offended."

"I am suspicious of any sum large enough to make sensible men stop asking where it comes from."

"The Rogares possess the money."

"Today."

Vaeron smiled faintly.

Lyman ignored him and continued. "The proposed dowry itself is not the concern. If paid immediately upon marriage, the crown possesses it regardless of later events. The commercial concessions are different. Reduced lending costs, access to Rogare credit, support for approved merchants, and preferred arrangements through Lys all depend upon the bank remaining under people willing and able to maintain them."

Tyland rested one arm upon the chair. "If Lysandro dies and his heir dislikes the agreement, enforcing it across the Narrow Sea becomes difficult without turning a family dispute into foreign policy."

"That is exactly what I want to avoid," I said.

Vaeron opened another report. "There is a second issue. Lysaro does not merely spend heavily. Several correspondents describe him as convinced that the family’s wealth is effectively inexhaustible. That attitude is manageable while his father controls the bank. It becomes dangerous if he inherits it."

Tyland looked towards me. "You appear unsurprised."

"I had heard similar things before asking you to investigate."

That was enough explanation for the room. Lyman tapped the contract draft. "If you proceed with the marriage, I would insist upon separating the dowry from future promises. Coin, property, or other assets promised to Lady Larra should transfer upon marriage and belong clearly to her or the royal household established with Prince Aerion. I would not value vague assurances of favourable banking treatment as though they are permanent assets."

"I agree."

Tyland nodded. "And I would want guarantees from whichever Rogare relatives stand to inherit control. Lysandro’s signature means less if everyone expects him to die soon."

Vaeron added, "Which may itself create problems. Asking Lysaro to guarantee his father’s agreement tells him we expect him to inherit shortly."

"Banking families survive direct conversations about death," Lyman replied. "That may be why they have so much money."

Their conclusions aligned with my own. House Rogare was attractive because it looked strong today. The danger was tying Aerion permanently to a house whose strength might disappear almost immediately afterwards.

There were ways to protect the crown financially. There were fewer ways to protect my son from becoming entangled in the collapse of his wife’s family. That part mattered more.

Aerion sought me out that afternoon before I could decide whether to summon him. He arrived with none of his usual attempt at casual indifference. "You have been investigating Larra’s family."

There was no point denying it. "Yes."

"Is something wrong?"

"Possibly."

His face tightened. "With her?"

"No. Nothing we have learned makes me question Larra herself." Aerion visibly relaxed, though only slightly. "The concern is House Rogare. Your grandfather’s proposal depends heavily upon the strength of the bank, and much of that strength appears tied directly to Lysandro and his brother. Both are older men, and Lysandro is already bedridden."

"He is her father, not grandfather."

I inclined my head. "Her father. I misspoke."

Aerion sat across from me. "What happens if he dies?"

"That is precisely what we are trying to understand. His eldest son, Lysaro, would likely inherit control. Everything we have found suggests he is a heavy spender with little reputation for managing the bank."

Aerion frowned. "So you think House Rogare will lose its money."

"I think it could lose much of its influence. Money disappears remarkably quickly when men begin believing there is too much to lose."

He remained quiet for a moment. "If that happened, would you refuse the marriage?"

"That depends upon what you believe the marriage is for." Aerion looked at me. "If you wanted Larra because marrying her gave the crown access to the Rogare Bank, then the possible collapse of that bank would be an excellent reason to refuse. If you want Larra because you genuinely care for her, the calculation changes."

His answer took longer than usual. "I do care for her."

"You have known her for several weeks."

"I know that."

"You are fifteen."

"I know that too."

"I am not saying those things to dismiss you. I am reminding you that liking someone now and building a life with them are different decisions."

Aerion nodded. "I do not expect you to announce anything tomorrow. I only do not want you and Mother to decide she is unsuitable because her brother may be an idiot."

That made me smile despite myself. "When phrased that way, it does sound unfair."

"It is unfair."

"Royal marriages frequently are."

Aerion’s expression remained serious. "Then perhaps ours do not have to be every time."

That stayed with me after he left. The problem was no longer whether Larra Rogare represented a good alliance. On paper, she did. The problem was whether the alliance remained good once House Rogare stopped being what it was today.

Aerion and Larra continued growing closer while we investigated. They walked together, argued, laughed, and gradually stopped behaving as though every conversation required an audience. Larra had no knowledge that I remembered a future in which her family’s fortune collapsed around her brothers.

Aerion only knew enough to understand that I had concerns.

Neither deserved to have their lives decided solely by a dead history from another world.

Yet ignoring that history would be equally foolish.

For the first time since Larra arrived, I found myself hoping Lysandro Rogare recovered. Not because I needed the bank.

Because his death would force us to discover very quickly whether House Rogare’s strength belonged to the family or merely to the man holding it together.