Viserys's screams, like a beast trapped in a snare, echoed intermittently through the mansion's corridors.
Every syllable was filled with pain and despair.
Daenerys sat on the soft bed, holding an old book she had found in the good master's study, its pages filled with Valyrian poetry.
But she couldn't read a single word.
The screams unsettled her.
She knew her brother deserved it.
His madness and foolishness had long since eroded the last vestiges of Targaryen dignity.
Lynn's actions were perfectly justified.
Even though she had been sold like a slave...
But... he was still her brother.
Daenerys put down the book and stood up.
She knew she shouldn't go, and even less should she plead for him.
She couldn't make Lynn uncomfortable.
She just... wanted Viserys not to suffer so much.
Although Missandei was no longer a slave, she still diligently performed her duties like a slave girl.
Seeing Daenerys stand up, the clever Missandei instantly understood what Daenerys intended to do.
She followed Daenerys closely out of the room.
Soon, they found Jorah Mormont.
"Ser, are there any physicians in the city?"
Jorah Mormont looked at her struggling violet eyes.
"If you do this, Lord Lynn will be angry."
A flicker of panic crossed Daenerys's eyes.
"But after all, he is my brother."
Jorah was silent for a moment, then finally nodded.
"You must first speak to Lord Lynn about this."
"If he agrees, then it's no problem."
"There are some slaves who once learned some medical skills from their masters; I can find one."
Missandei faithfully carried out the order.
Lynn, upon hearing the news brought by Missandei, did not get angry.
He simply waved his hand, indicating that such a small matter did not require his attention.
As long as Viserys didn't escape, it didn't matter how much he thrashed about.
He had more important things to do now.
After obtaining Lynn's consent, a gaunt old man with a goatee was brought before Daenerys.
He carried a worn wooden box, emanating an herbal scent, and his eyes were filled with awe for these new masters.
Daenerys led him to the door of the room where Viserys was imprisoned.
Two fully armed Unsullied stood at the door; seeing Daenerys, they merely bowed slightly and did not stop her.
The door was pushed open.
A sickening stench, a mixture of alcohol, sweat, and blood, assailed them.
Viserys was curled up in the corner of the room, his face as pale as paper, his broken wrist hanging limply, swollen like a fermenting dough.
Seeing Daenerys, a glimmer of hope instantly ignited in his clouded eyes.
"Dany..."
He struggled, trying to crawl over.
"Let him look at your injuries."
Daenerys did not approach, but merely stepped aside, allowing the old physician to enter.
The physician knelt tremblingly before Viserys, opened his medicine box, and began to examine his broken hand.
"Dany, my good sister..."
Viserys's tears flowed.
He looked at Daenerys, pleading in a humble tone he had never used in his life.
"I know I was wrong... I truly know I was wrong..."
"I shouldn't have offended Lord Lynn, I shouldn't have disrespected you... I was blinded by jealousy..."
As he spoke, he let out suppressed gasps of pain from the physician's treatment.
"Gently!"
"You lowly slave!"
Viserys's curse made the physician's hands falter.
"My Lord, Lynn has liberated all the slaves in the city; our status is now commoners!"
Hearing the name Lynn, a hint of fear flashed in Viserys's eyes, and he turned to look at Daenerys.
"We are the last Targaryens, Dany!"
"We are the blood of the True Dragon! We cannot kill each other!"
"Speak to Lord Lynn, tell him to spare me!"
"I swear, I will be the most obedient dog! Whatever he tells me to do, I will do!"
"The throne, I don't want it anymore!"
"The army, I don't want it either!"
"I just want to live... Please, Dany..."
He cried profusely, as pathetic as a homeless man begging on the street.
Daenerys listened quietly.
Beyond the pain in her heart, there was an unspeakable sorrow.
A true king does not beg like Viserys.
Even in death, one must die with dignity.
Her brother, even at this moment, still didn't understand where he had gone wrong.
His begging for mercy was not due to remorse, but only out of fear.
"Brother,"
Daenerys finally spoke.
"I will not plead with Lynn on your behalf."
"If you willingly give up the throne, Lynn will naturally forgive you."
Viserys's crying stopped abruptly.
He looked at Daenerys in disbelief, as if looking at a stranger.
"You... what did you say?"
"I said, I will not plead with Lynn for you now."
Daenerys repeated, her tone unwavering.
"Lynn is my husband; I will not question any of his decisions, nor will I interfere."
"Everything you are enduring now is the consequence of your own choices."
"But I believe that as long as you behave, Lynn will not harm you."
"Moreover, you never treated me as a sister, only as merchandise to exchange for the throne."
"In your eyes, our Targaryen bloodline was merely a tool for your selfish desires."
"You are not fit to be a king."
"Be an ordinary person, Viserys; this is the most dignified end for you..."
Daenerys's words completely stripped Viserys of his last hope.
The pleading on his face gradually turned into bewilderment, then malevolence.
"You... you bitch!"
His voice grew shrill.
The face that had just been streaked with tears was now contorted with extreme rage.
"Do you think you've become a queen just because you've hooked up with a Northern savage?"
"Have you forgotten who raised you?"
"Everything you have was given by me!"
"Your life is mine!"
"Now, you dare to refuse even to plead for an outsider?"
His roar echoed in the room.
The old physician trembled all over, wishing he could shrink into the ground.
Daenerys was not angry; she was merely disappointed.
A deep, bone-chilling disappointment from the heart.
"Doctor, please treat his injuries."
"If he dares to insult you again, then don't treat him; he deserves it!"
Daenerys didn't want to say another word to this madman and turned to leave.
Just as she turned, a fierce madness flashed in Viserys's eyes!
He saw it!
In the old physician's medicine box, there was a small, gleaming knife used for cutting herbs!
Now was the time!
With his good hand, Viserys snatched the knife with lightning speed, and like a predatory wolf, he lunged at Daenerys's back!
His face bore a savage expression of wanting to die together.
"Since you won't let me live! Then we'll die together!"
He wanted to grab Daenerys and use her as a hostage!
Lynn cared about this woman!
As long as this woman was in his hands, he still had a glimmer of hope for survival!
The old physician let out a terrified shriek.
Daenerys also felt the ill wind behind her; her body instantly stiffened, and her mind went blank.
However, Viserys's hand failed to touch Daenerys's hem.
A black shadow moved faster than he did!
Bang!
A dull thud.
It was the sound of a war boot savagely kicking flesh.
One of the Unsullied who had been guarding the door had already moved the moment Viserys violently attacked.
He didn't draw his sword, nor did he use his spear.
Just a simple, direct kick.
Viserys flew backward like a broken sack, crashing heavily against the wall before sliding to the ground.
The small knife clanged to the ground nearby.
He curled up on the floor, clutching his chest, unable to even scream, only gasping for breath like a fish out of water, vomiting mouthfuls of sour liquid.
The Unsullied stepped forward, stomped on Viserys's knife-wielding hand, and pressed down with his toe.
"Crack!"
Another crisp sound of bone breaking.
Then, he used his foot to flip Viserys's body over, pressing the heel of his war boot firmly onto his nape, forcing his face onto the cold and dirty ground.
The entire sequence of movements was fluid and incredibly fast.
From start to finish, the Unsullied's face remained expressionless.
He was simply dealing with a threat attempting to harm Daenerys.
Daenerys slowly turned around.
She looked at Viserys, who was twitching like a dead dog, pinned underfoot.
She looked at her brother's face, covered in dust and vomit.
She looked at his eyes, wide and almost bursting from extreme pain and humiliation.
In those eyes, there was no longer any pleading, no longer any madness.
Only an ingrained hatred for her.
At this moment, the last ember of familial affection in Daenerys's heart was completely extinguished.
She no longer even felt disappointment.
Only a numbness, as if looking at a stranger.
She said nothing, merely straightened the hem of her dress, which had been disheveled by the fright.
Then, she turned and walked out of the room without looking back.
As she reached the doorway, she paused, still without turning, and quietly spoke to the Unsullied who was still pinning Viserys.
"Watch him closely."
"Yes, my queen."
Daenerys walked steadily, step by step, along the long corridor.
The sunlight at the end of the corridor shone upon her, bathing her moon-white gown in a golden glow.
From this moment on, the trembling little girl was completely gone.
What remained was the wife of the King of Astapor.
And Viserys, lying in that dirty room with both hands broken, had no further connection to her.