It was early morning at the Magister's Manor in Pentos.
There was no birdsong, only the distant cries of gulls soaring over the tiled roofs.
Sunlight filtered through the carved window grilles, casting dappled shadows on the opulent carpet.
The air was thick with the scent of spices, cloyingly sweet, as if one could drown in this gentle cage.
Daenerys was restless.
Her handmaidens dressed her in a moon-white silk gown.
The fabric, like flowing moonlight, made her already fair skin appear almost translucent.
Her silver-gold hair was meticulously combed and secured with tiny pearls.
Until Lynn pushed open the door and walked in.
He had changed into a black velvet coat that Illyrio had prepared for him.
An inconspicuous emblem, a ferocious three-headed Ice Dragon, was embroidered on his chest with silver thread.
The simple attire, however, made him exude an innate sense of oppression.
"Are you ready?" Lynn's voice was calm.
Daenerys nodded, then quickly shook her head.
She nervously stood up and walked in front of Lynn.
Her violet eyes were filled with anticipation and unease.
"I... I don't know what to do."
"Do what?"
"Be a... wife." Her voice was as low as a mosquito's buzz.
Lynn looked at her, at the girl who was about to become his wife.
Her beauty was enough to drive any man mad.
But beneath that beauty was a soul that had been wrapped in fear and unease for too long.
"You don't have to do anything."
Lynn reached out and tucked a rebellious strand of silver hair behind her ear.
"Just be yourself."
His fingertips were cool, yet Daenerys felt a sense of reassurance.
Yes.
Be herself.
This was the only expectation her Prince had of her.
The wedding was almost shabby in its simplicity.
There were no guests, no choir, no seven-tiered wedding cake.
In Magister Illyrio's courtyard, the fat man who had almost wet himself from the Winter Dragon's might yesterday was now beaming as he officiated the wedding.
Viserys stood by, a reserved yet impatient smile on his face, as if he were the protagonist of the day.
A Septon of the Seven, found in the dock district of Pentos, wearing a faded robe, stammered through the ancient vows.
He probably never imagined he would one day step into the Magister's Manor to bless such an unusual wedding.
"...In the name of the Father, I declare you husband and wife."
"You may now kiss your wife before all present."
As soon as the Septon finished speaking, Viserys was the first to clap, his applause piercingly loud.
"Excellent! Excellent!"
He shouted loudly.
"Now, we are family!"
"Unbreakable allies!"
Lynn ignored his chatter.
He turned and looked at Daenerys before him.
A touching blush colored the girl's cheeks, and her long eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings.
She gathered her courage, lifted her eyes, and met Lynn's gaze.
Lynn lowered his head and kissed her.
This kiss was completely different from the one on the terrace yesterday.
There was no longer any probing or release, only a gentle and firm declaration of possession.
Daenerys responded awkwardly, her hands instinctively clutching the fabric on Lynn's chest.
She felt as if her body was melting, melting into this embrace that made her feel incredibly safe.
Illyrio had prepared a small feast.
The long table was laden with delicacies from all over the world, sparkling in gold and silver vessels.
Viserys was already half-drunk.
He had one arm around a buxom slave girl and held a wine cup in the other hand.
He loudly discussed how he would deal with the usurpers once he returned to Westeros.
"Robert Baratheon! I'll hang his head on the gates of King's Landing!"
"And that Kingslayer! I'll throw him into a dragon's mouth!"
His voice echoed in the empty banquet hall, sounding particularly comical.
Lynn paid him no mind, simply cutting a piece of roasted fish from the Summer Sea on his plate with unhurried movements.
Daenerys sat beside him, quietly pouring him wine, like a docile kitten.
She was no longer a princess to be manipulated, but Lynn's wife.
This new identity gave her a sense of belonging she had never known.
Just then, Magister Illyrio clapped his hands.
Two strong slaves carried a heavy wooden chest into the banquet hall.
The chest was made of Westeros weirwood tree, reinforced with bronze corners, appearing ancient and mysterious.
"My dear friends."
Illyrio's face was wreathed in smiles.
His corpulent body struggled somewhat to rise from the chair.
"This is a small gift, a token of my esteem."
Viserys stopped his shouting and looked over curiously.
Illyrio personally stepped forward and opened the locks on the wooden chest.
The moment the lid opened, everyone's gaze was drawn to it.
The chest was thickly lined with black velvet, and on it lay three enormous eggs.
One was deep green, covered with bronze-colored spots.
One was milky white, with pale gold markings.
The last one was pure black, like the deep sea at midnight, but its surface glowed with an eerie blood-red luster.
Their surfaces were covered with fine scales, shimmering like jewels in the candlelight.
"dragon eggs?"
Viserys exclaimed in surprise, his drunkenness instantly sobering by more than half.
He stumbled forward, wanting to reach out and touch them, but was awed by the ancient aura they exuded and dared not approach.
"Yes, true dragon eggs."
"Genuine!"
A hint of self-satisfaction appeared on Illyrio's face.
"They come from the Shadow Lands east of Asshai, priceless treasures."
"However... they have long since turned to stone."
He added with regret.
The slaves and Septon present gasped in admiration.
This was indeed a gift worthy of Daenerys's status.
Daenerys's gaze had been fixated on the dragon eggs from the moment she saw them.
A tremor from deep within her bloodline made her involuntarily stand up and walk to the wooden chest.
She extended a slender hand and gently caressed the black-red dragon egg.
It felt cold and hard, indeed like stone.
But for some reason, she felt a faint, almost heartbeat-like pulse emanating from it.
"Just some pretty stones, that's all."
Viserys quickly lost interest, a hint of disdain on his face.
"I have a living dragon now."
"Illyrio, you might as well have given me a ship full of gold; that would have been more practical."
Lynn said nothing.
He stepped forward, his gaze falling on the three dragon eggs.
He, of course, knew what these were.
These were not stones at all!
These were Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion!
Of course, this time, they would not be called by these names.
These were the three great dragons that would one day incinerate Slaver's Bay and make the whole world tremble!
He suppressed the joy in his heart and, mimicking Daenerys, reached out to touch the green dragon egg.
Cold, hard.
Nothing unusual.
But he knew this was just an illusion.
Blood and fire... Lynn's gaze inadvertently swept across Daenerys's exquisitely beautiful face.
His lips moved slightly, and a crazy yet bold plan had already formed in his mind.
He wanted more than just a three-headed dragon.
He wanted them all!
...It was late at night.
In Lynn and Daenerys's bridal chamber, there was no romantic atmosphere.
The three dragon eggs were placed in the center of the room.
A roaring fire burned in the fireplace, casting their shadows on the walls like three slumbering beasts.
Daenerys sat on the soft carpet, holding the black-red dragon egg.
She hugged the egg tightly to her chest.
As if it wasn't a cold stone, but her long-lost child.
"I can feel it."
She looked up, her astonishingly bright purple eyes fixed on Lynn.
"It's talking to me."
Lynn walked over to her and sat down.
"What did it say?"
"It said... it's very cold."
There was a hint of tenderness in Daenerys's voice.
Lynn didn't think she was talking nonsense.
The Targaryen bloodline naturally had a mysterious connection with dragons.
Just like Maester Aemon back then.
He reached out and covered Daenerys's hands, which were holding the dragon egg.
Her hands were very cool, like jade.
"Perhaps we can make it a little warmer."
Lynn said, casting his gaze towards the flickering flames in the fireplace.
Daenerys seemed to understand something; her breathing became a little rapid.
She looked at Lynn, then at the flames in the fireplace, a flicker of hesitation and fear in her beautiful eyes.
Fire was the destiny of the Targaryens, and also their curse.
Her brother always spoke of the "sleeping dragon's wrath," threatening to burn her with fire.
"Don't be afraid."
Lynn's voice seemed to carry a magic that easily calmed the fear in her heart.
He held her hand, along with the dragon egg.
Slowly, bit by bit, he moved closer to the fireplace.
A wave of intense heat rushed towards them, making Daenerys nervously close her eyes.
However, the expected burning pain did not come.
She only felt an unprecedented warmth emanating from the dragon egg.
It flowed up her arm and spread throughout her entire body.
The feeling was like soaking in warm spring water on a cold Winter night.
She cautiously opened her eyes.
The sight before her completely stunned her.
The black-red dragon egg, under the scorching heat of the flames, not only did not crack, but instead began to emit an eerie red glow.
The fine scales on the eggshell seemed to come alive, subtly moving in the light.
What amazed her most was this:
Her hand was placed directly in the flames, yet she felt no burning pain whatsoever!
"I... I'm not afraid of fire..."
Daenerys murmured, as if she had discovered some incredible secret.
Lynn said nothing, simply slowly injecting Ice Magic into the three dragon eggs.
Just then.
"Thump."
An extremely faint, yet incredibly clear sound, came from inside the dragon egg.
Daenerys's body stiffened.
"Thump... thump-thump..."
The sound grew faster and clearer.
Like a heart that had slept for a thousand years, it began to beat again at the call of the flames!
It's alive!
It's really alive!
The dragon egg has been activated!