Before Jon could even come out to greet him, Petyr Baelish—Littlefinger—had already walked confidently into the courtyard. He stood on the high cliff, gazing silently at the deep-water harbor sheltered from the wind.
This port, which had originally been a key part of his own master plan, now belonged entirely to Jon, along with the people who ran it. The sight filled Littlefinger with a rare sense of defeat.
Fortunately, he had come to negotiate, not to start a war. With a quiet sigh, he composed himself and waited for the master of the house to appear.
Just before he could turn around, the Shadow Hand's warm, slightly exaggerated voice rang out from behind him.
"I'm curious. What kind of wind blows the man who controls the Kingdom's purse strings all the way out here?"
As he spoke, Jon waved his hand, dismissing all the guards. Although he had zero faith in Littlefinger's character, Jon had absolute confidence in his own combat ability.
As long as his opponent didn't resort to poison or dark magic, a face-to-face conversation wasn't going to threaten his life.
Seeing Jon's relaxed demeanor, the ever-shrewd Littlefinger realized immediately that his intentions had likely been guessed.
However, accustomed to hiding his true self behind a mask of amiability, the Mockingbird didn't rush to show his cards. Instead, he slipped into his usual routine of fake pleasantries.
"Well, look who it is. Is this the celebrated 'Little Duke Jon' of Westeros? Or perhaps Mr. Wolf Liantang from Asshai?"
From this initial probing, it was clear that trust was a foreign concept between them.
But Jon didn't care.
He knew that with Littlefinger, there could only be exploitation, never true alliance.
Of course, if he could pry some benefits from the man in the process, that would be a bonus.
With that in mind, the transmigrator matched Littlefinger's expression perfectly, mirroring his sly smile as they began to circle each other verbally.
"It's not hard to see that Lord Baelish is interested in this harbor. But unfortunately, it happens to belong to my fiancée..."
Jon stated the obvious with feigned regret, watching Littlefinger's reaction closely.
Just as he expected, the Mockingbird didn't flinch. Instead, he looked Jon up and down with mock concern, adopting the tone of a wise elder giving advice.
"Lord Jon, regarding the matter of marriage... as someone with experience, I feel compelled to offer a word of caution."
Petyr lowered his hood and looked at the young Baron with "sincere" eyes.
"When I was your age, I too dreamed of love. But later, I discovered that true love is like a White Walker—everyone talks about it, but no one has actually seen it. It is far less reliable and durable than gold dragons or power."
Petyr sounded like a nagging old uncle, speaking from deep, personal pain.
"Of course, if you're willing to treat marriage as a business transaction, then a bride from House Frey would certainly bring you a considerable dowry. They pay by the pound, I hear."
"Oh, is that so? But really, how much is an equivalent weight in silver actually worth?"
At that, the two men looked at each other and laughed. The tension in the air finally broke.
Then, Petyr finally revealed his purpose.
According to the Master of Coin, he was willing to completely withdraw from any competing interests in Tampa. He would even introduce his relevant contacts and channels to Jon, effectively handing over the monopoly.
In return, he hoped Jon would support him in the Small Council, backing his proposals when necessary to increase his influence.
Hearing this proposal, Jon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. At first glance, the exchange seemed incredibly tempting.
Jon would lose nothing, while Littlefinger was offering a gold mine that would never run dry.
But the new Baron also understood the game. Littlefinger's ultimate goal was to replace Ned Stark and steal the position of Hand of the King.
However, knowing the future plot, Jon was skeptical of Littlefinger's chances.
Robert chose Ned as his Hand for one reason: loyalty.
Beyond that, Ned Stark was the second most important figure in the Rebellion and the undisputed political heir to Jon Arryn. Even if others didn't like it, they had to respect the authority of the Warden of the North.
As for Littlefinger? No matter how much wealth he accumulated, he couldn't erase the prejudice against his background.
He was a minor noble from the Fingers. Even with his current title, he couldn't change the fact that he was lowborn in the eyes of the Great Houses.
In terms of influence and legitimacy, even Jon—who had just received the Stark name—carried more weight than Littlefinger.
This prejudice wasn't just tradition; it was the power of bloodlines and family names.
Of course, these were the views of an outsider. Littlefinger, trapped within his ambition, might not see it that way.
But since Littlefinger was offering an olive branch, Jon wasn't going to slap the smiling face.
The two clever men exchanged another knowing look and reached a tacit agreement. As for how much of that agreement would be honored... well, that depended on their "integrity."
To prove his sincerity before leaving, Littlefinger dropped a piece of information that made the Baron re-evaluate the Mockingbird's reach.
According to the Master of Coin, Lysa Arryn—hiding away in the Eyrie—had received the harsh letters demanding answers but had made no move to respond or travel.
This news didn't surprise Jon.
Although he didn't have his own spy network, Varys was usually willing to share such trivial updates.
Jon had been watching Lysa's inaction with frustration. He had considered using Littlefinger to manipulate the mad woman but hadn't found a reasonable excuse to push the issue.
Now that Littlefinger brought it up himself, it meant there was an opening.
Sure enough, seeing Jon unmoved by the first bit of news, Littlefinger upped the ante, revealing insider information from the Vale.
"Actually, after receiving the Hand's invitation, Lady Lysa did intend to travel. But you know how it is... once a woman has a child, everything becomes a burden."
Having said that, Littlefinger stopped beating around the bush. He proceeded to relay the contents of his private correspondence with Lysa to Jon—spinning it as "insider intelligence."