chapter 170 part 1
Essos, in the city-state of Viserys (formerly Pentos), at the Magister's Manse.
Today was the fourteenth name day of Daenerys Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone, Breaker of Shackles, the Stormborn, Savior and Protector of the city-state of Pentos.
Daenerys was in a small hall, receiving numerous strangers who had come under the pretense of offering congratulations.
Her ceremonial attire was an ivory silk gown, accessorized only with a simple yet elegant silver necklace.
She sat upon a chair, a proper smile gracing her face, while the sisters Osanna and Borona loyally stood guard at her sides.
"Honorable Princess of the True Dragon, I am a merchant from Lys. I have been entrusted to bring you a gift. May the blessings of the Lord of Light be upon you."
After the merchant from Lys paid his respects, he stepped aside and waved his hand. Two slaves immediately hurried forward, carrying a cedar chest decorated with bronze.
When the chest was opened, Daenerys's pupils contracted. She saw three enormous eggs.
They were the most beautiful things she had ever seen. The patterns on them were so opulent she thought they were studded with jewels.
It took both her hands to hold one of the eggs. Daenerys lifted it carefully… Its shell was covered in tiny scales that shifted under her fingertips, catching the light of the setting sun and emitting a metallic luster.
She had first thought them to be made of fine porcelain, enamel, or glass, but they were far heavier than that, as if carved from solid stone.
The three eggs were each different in appearance: one was deep green with flecks of burnished bronze; another was a pale cream streaked with gold; the last was black as a midnight sea, yet alive with roiling waves and swirls of scarlet.
...
Daenerys realized she was behaving strangely, not quite understanding why she had suddenly acted as if possessed.
She gently placed the egg back in the box, her lilac eyes turning to the reverent merchant from Lys.
"Thank you for your gift, traveler from afar."
The merchant from Lys humbly placed a hand on his chest and bowed.
Daenerys's pale fingers caressed the black egg. "They are truly beautiful… I am curious, what are they?"
"They are dragon eggs from the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai. They have turned to stone over millennia, yet they remain as brilliant and captivating as ever."
Daenerys had heard all sorts of rumors about dragon eggs, but she had never seen one with her own eyes, let alone imagined she would ever have the chance to… The merchant from Lys had brought a gift of immense value—enough to purchase a city.
Daenerys withdrew her hand, folded them over her stomach, and straightened her back.
She smiled faintly. "Your gift is too precious."
The merchant from Lys nodded, smiling. "Your Highness, I am merely an envoy."
Daenerys's eyebrows rose slightly. "I am very grateful. Please, tell me who this kind person is."
"He is to the west of the Narrow Sea. He is a supporter of the true Dragon…"
As he spoke, the merchant from Lys lowered his gaze and continued with sincerity, "He hides from the terror of the Usurper. He will reveal himself to you at the opportune moment to continue his service to House Targaryen."
Daenerys's eyes quivered slightly. She gave a small nod. "Please convey my message. I will treasure them forever."
...
In her bedchamber, Daenerys looked somewhat weary. She had been sitting almost motionless for the entire day… repeating nearly the same words to different people.
Daenerys turned to look at the three dragon eggs placed in her room, and she blinked.
A ray of the red setting sun shone through the window, reflecting off the dragon eggs… In that instant, a thousand scarlet sparks flashed before her eyes.
It's just a stone… Daenerys thought it was just a hallucination. She must be exhausted.
Daenerys reached out her hand, pressing her palm against the black dragon egg, her fingers gently tracing the curves of the shell… The stone was warm, almost hot.
She murmured, "The sun. The sun must have heated them."
Daenerys sat down beside the dragon eggs, one hand stroking an egg as she looked out the window.
Dragons were extinct… Viserys had once told Daenerys that the last dragon of House Targaryen had died about a century and a half ago, during the reign of Aegon III, an event people called the Dragon's Doom.
If only Viserys had a dragon… Thinking of her brother, Daenerys sighed to herself.
Viserys had always been desperate to storm back to Westeros and retake the Iron Throne, but he had grown increasingly impatient now.
To soothe Viserys's restless heart, Daenerys had not objected when he insisted on renaming the city-state of Pentos after himself.
Pentos was a name steeped in history. Though no one recognized the new name of the city-state, Viserys was very happy… excessively so… Yes, excessively.
Daenerys's one act of kindness, or rather, concession… was taken as submission by Viserys. He felt that everyone had submitted to the wrath of the waking dragon.
Why did Daenerys sigh? She was worried for her brother's safety.
In truth, Daenerys knew perfectly well in her heart that although Viserys was the true King of the Seven Kingdoms, he was not strong, and he made enemies easily.
Daenerys worried… that one day, some unexpected enemy would slit her brother's throat.
The petitions at the Magister's Manse… Viserys's arbitrary judgments… The resentment of the populace was spreading. Daenerys had seen more than a few terrifying, hateful glares among the crowds.
For her brother's safety, Daenerys had temporarily suspended the petitions at the Magister's Manse and increased the number of guards around him, but Viserys mistook her kindness for a seizure of his power.
She had loyal guards. A Viserys who had 'woken the dragon' could not harm her… but Daenerys felt wronged.
Daenerys's eyes reddened. She suddenly missed Glyn deeply. At this moment… she longed for Glyn's companionship. She wanted to hear his gentle voice; she wanted to see his warm smile.
...
Daenerys gently wiped the corner of her eye with the back of her hand. Her petite figure stood before the window… Under the setting sun, the entire sky looked like a beautiful painted scroll, a riot of colors that was intoxicating.
The slanting rays of the sunset draped the loyal warriors on guard in a shimmering veil of gold.
Loyal warriors… Daenerys still couldn't stop worrying about her brother's safety.
She suddenly thought of the Kingsguard, founded by her ancestor, Aegon the Conqueror, to protect the royal bloodline. They held no lands, took no wives, fathered no children, and loyally protected the King.
King Viserys needed a Kingsguard to loyally protect him, to at least… Daenerys shook her head.
The Kingsguard had proven, through their actions, that they were not dependable.
The white-cloaked, silver-armored Kingsguard of the songs were always noble, brave, and true, but her own father, Aerys II, had died at the hands of one of them. Today, people called that handsome boy the Kingslayer… As for the bold Ser Barristan, he had bent the knee to the Usurper.
Daenerys couldn't help but wonder why the universally praised Kingsguard was so false.
Daenerys had learned from Ser Jorah Mormont that the Dothraki Khals had followers called Bloodriders. They were the Khal's guards, his brothers, and his companions.
A Khal and his Bloodriders called each other "blood of my blood." They swore to live and die with their Khal, and to protect him from all harm… It was said that according to ancient tradition, when a Khal died, his Bloodriders had to follow him into death.
Daenerys decided that once Viserys sat on the Iron Throne, she would help her brother prepare loyal guards similar to the Bloodriders, to protect him from the schemes and persecutions of the Kingsguard.
...
The noisy clamor outside the room interrupted Daenerys's thoughts.
Daenerys could faintly hear Viserys's voice, and a slight smile appeared on her face.