The night in Astapor was warm and sticky.
Jorah Mormont departed as ordered.
His figure quickly disappeared behind the heavy gates of the mansion, forged from black iron and red copper.
Inside the great hall, a strange silence descended.
Viserys's patience had clearly run out.
He paced restlessly on the ornate carpet, his pale violet eyes glinting with greed and impatience.
"What exactly are we waiting for?"
He stopped abruptly, practically roaring at Lynn.
"Just use your dragon! Burn this damned city to the ground!"
"Burn all those Good Masters to ashes! Then all the Unsullied will be ours!"
"How simple! How quick!"
Lynn didn't even look up at him, merely using a small silver knife to slowly peel a blood orange from the Summer Sea.
Crimson juice dripped along the blade, spreading a small, startling red stain on the golden platter.
Daenerys sat beside him, watching Lynn's remarkably steady hands, and the fear and unease in her heart miraculously subsided a great deal.
"A king needs a loyal army, not a pack of beasts enslaved by fear."
Lynn's voice was calm.
"Loyalty? Haha!"
Viserys sounded as if he had heard the funniest joke in the world.
"Power is loyalty!"
"As long as my dragon flies in the sky, they will only dare to kneel at my feet and kiss my boots!"
He pointed at the submissive slaves outside the window.
"Look at them, Lynn!"
"They are born inferiors; obedience is etched into their bones!"
"If you are kind to them, they will only think you are weak and easily bullied!"
Just then, a young female slave in a long linen dress carefully entered, carrying a pot of iced mead.
She looked even younger than Daenerys, her black eyes filled with terror and unease.
She walked very slowly, very softly.
Afraid that her sandals might rub against the smooth marble floor, making even the slightest sound that would disturb these new nobles.
Her gaze dared not meet anyone's eyes; she only stared fixedly at the small patch of ground beneath her feet.
As she reached the long table and was about to fill Viserys's cup, Viserys suddenly slammed his hand on the table.
"What are you dawdling for! Fool!"
He dared not blame Lynn for his neglect, so he could only vent all his anger on this innocent female slave.
That roar was like a whip, lashing fiercely at the female slave.
The girl's body trembled violently, and the silver wine pot slipped from her hand.
Clang—
The wine pot hit the corner of the table, then bounced up heavily, striking a exquisitely beautiful Valyrian glass vase on an adjacent side table.
The vase was deep blue all over, with ancient dragon totems outlined in gold on its body, shimmering with a dreamlike luster in the candlelight.
According to the estate's steward, this was a treasure unearthed from the ruins of the Valyrian Freehold, valuable enough to buy a small mercenary band of ten men.
Crash—!
A crisp, heartbreaking sound.
The vase shattered.
Deep blue fragments scattered across the floor.
The entire hall instantly fell into a deathly silence.
All the slaves present, whether fanning in the corner or standing by the pillars, stopped all their movements at this moment.
They held their breath, as if even their heartbeats had ceased.
In Astapor, breaking a master's precious item had only one outcome.
That was to be nailed alive to a stake on the "Walk of Pride," to have the scorching sun and vultures devour every inch of one's flesh.
The female slave who had caused such a disaster was completely frozen.
She knelt on the ground, her body trembling violently.
The black eyes had lost all their light, leaving only pure despair.
She prostrated herself on the ground, not even having the courage to beg for mercy.
Because she knew, begging for mercy was useless.
She would receive the most brutal punishment, reiterating to other slaves the cost of making a mistake.
"You… you damned wench!"
Viserys's face instantly turned a liverish red.
He wasn't distressed about the vase, but felt his authority had been challenged!
In front of this Northern barbarian, in front of his nominal "ally," a lowly slave dared to publicly humiliate him!
"Kill her!"
Viserys pointed at the already distraught girl, screaming at Lynn.
"I command you! Kill her at once!"
"In the most cruel way! Let her know the consequences of offending a King!"
His voice echoed in the empty hall, sounding harsh and frantic.
Daenerys's heart clenched tightly.
She instinctively grabbed Lynn's sleeve, her violet eyes filled with entreaty.
She didn't want to see anyone else die in front of her.
Lynn patted Daenerys's small hand, signaling her to be at ease.
Then, he ignored Viserys's roar.
He simply put down the silver knife, stood up, and slowly walked over to the female slave kneeling on the ground.
His tall figure completely enveloped her, like a divine judgment descending.
The girl's body trembled even more violently, and a foul stench emanated from beneath her.
She had been so frightened that she had lost control of her bladder.
Lynn crouched down, disregarding the mess and filth on the ground.
He reached out his hand, and did not, as everyone expected, grab her neck.
Instead, he picked up the largest blue fragment from the ground and held it in his palm.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?"
His voice was very soft.
He spoke in High Valyrian, the language of the Old Empire's conquerors.
The female slave looked up blankly, her face, dominated by tears and terror, filled with confusion.
"You see," Lynn held the fragment before her eyes.
"It's broken, and it can never be restored."
"But you,"
Lynn's gaze moved from the fragment to the girl's hollow eyes.
"You are still alive."
"A vase, no matter how precious, is just a dead object."
"But your life is more valuable than ten thousand such vases."
After speaking, Lynn took out a gleaming gold Dragon coin from the leather pouch at his waist.
He gently placed the coin, enough for an ordinary Free Folk to squander for an entire year in King's Landing, into the girl's cold and trembling hand.
"Take it, get a clean change of clothes, and then have a good meal."
"I'm giving you a day off; forget today's unpleasantness, and then come back tomorrow to continue working for me."
Boom—!
In the entire hall, the minds of all the slaves exploded at that moment!
They stared blankly at the man crouching on the ground, at the dazzling gold coin in the girl's hand.
They watched the girl's face transition from extreme despair, to extreme bewilderment, then to extreme ecstasy.
They felt that their understanding of so many years had been completely overturned at this moment!
Kindness?
No, this was no longer kindness.
Only deities from legends, descending from the heavens to save people from suffering, would perform such an incredible act!
Viserys was also completely dumbfounded.
He stared at Lynn with his mouth agape, then looked at the female slave who had narrowly escaped death.
He simply could not comprehend.
A slave, a slave as lowly as dust!
How could her life be more valuable than Valyrian treasures?
Was this Northerner mad?!
"You…"
Viserys pointed at Lynn, trembling with rage.
"Do you know what you're doing?!"
"They are just the lowest of slaves!"
"What am I doing?"
Lynn stood up, turned his head, and looked at him calmly.
There was not the slightest ripple in his dark eyes, yet it caused Viserys an inexplicable pang of dread.
"I am telling you, King Viserys,"
"A life is always more worthy of respect than a dead object."
"This is the demeanor and dignity a king should possess."
"You should learn how to treat others well."
Lynn's words were like a resounding slap, striking Viserys's face fiercely.
Making his face, twisted with anger, turn red and then white, a truly spectacular sight.
And the slaves in the hall, after a brief, deathly silence, almost simultaneously knelt down.
They pressed their foreheads deeply against the cold marble floor.
In this most humble posture, they offered their most silent, yet most sincere respect to the man who had given them dignity and hope they had never imagined.
Daenerys watched this scene, tears uncontrollably sliding from the corners of her eyes.
But this time, it was not out of fear and sadness.
But because of a kind of emotion and pride that could melt her entirely.
She looked at Lynn's back, her violet eyes, wet with tears, shining like the brightest morning star in the sky.
This was her King.
A true monarch.
As night deepened, this story that unfolded in the mansion's great hall, like a pebble dropped into still water, stirred long-lasting ripples in the hearts of all the slaves.
"Have you heard? That lord from Westeros, he…"
"He gave a gold Dragon coin to a slave who broke a vase, and even gave her a day off!"
"Is that true?"
"Absolutely true! My cousin works in the great hall; he saw it with his own eyes!"
"He also said… that lord's life is more valuable than ten thousand vases…"
In dark corners, outside the kitchen's back door, by the stable's haystacks… countless whispers carried on the night wind.
The voices carried disbelief.
A flicker of hope was passed among the slaves.
Just then, the mansion's gates were knocked upon again.
Jorah Mormont had returned.
He walked into the hall, dusty from travel, with a peculiar expression on his face.
"My Lord,"
He walked up to Lynn and bowed.
"I have met Kraznys mo Nakloz."
"What did he say?" Lynn asked.
Jorah's expression grew even more peculiar.
He hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"He said… he is willing to sell you all the Unsullied, including those currently in training."
"However, he has a big appetite."
"For one Unsullied, he requires twenty gold Dragons."
"If you wish to buy them all, it will cost a total of six hundred thousand gold Dragons."
"That is no small sum, My Lord."
Lynn, however, smiled.
"It seems this Kraznys has a very good appetite."
His entire assets in King's Landing were only two hundred thousand gold Dragons; this Kraznys was clearly asking for an exorbitant price.
Everything about it seemed strange.
Clearly, his goal was not his gold coins.
But something else.