The Narrow Sea's wind—salt-stained and damp—whipped three merchant ships' sails.
The Westerosi continent had vanished beyond the horizon. Only endless azure remained.
Lynn stood at the bow, Daenerys quietly at his side.
She'd shed complex silk gowns for practical linen, silver-gold hair braided into a thick plait down her back.
On deck, Daenerys adjusted Lynn's wind-lifted collar.
That exquisite face had shed its initial timidity and anxiety.
Replaced by wifely tenderness and infinite longing for the future.
Her hand naturally rested in Lynn's palm, fingers intertwined.
These past days were the most peaceful of her life.
No more reading her brother's volatile moods.
No more worrying where the next meal came from.
No more being traded like goods.
Her prince was right beside her.
"Past this sea, southeast lies Volantis."
Daenerys pointed distantly, those beautiful violet eyes gleaming with intelligence.
"The oldest and largest Free City."
"They built massive Black Walls with slaves, separating themselves from the outside world."
Her voice carried barely detectable disgust.
"Brother always said when he reclaimed the Iron Throne, he'd build an even grander wall, keeping all enemies outside."
"That city holds thousands of slaves—iron collars on their necks, faces tattooed with their status."
Daenerys looked at Lynn's profile.
"Do you think... they yearn for freedom?"
Lynn didn't answer, just listened quietly.
He could feel Daenerys using her own way to understand this world.
Not blindly accepting Viserys's hatred-twisted perceptions anymore.
"East of Volantis lies the Dothraki Sea."
Mentioning that boundless grassland, Daenerys's voice grew complex.
"They say grass there grows tall enough to drown horses. When wind blows, it's like a green ocean."
"Dothraki live nomadic lives on those plains—born on horseback, dying on horseback, free as wind."
Her tone carried unexpected longing.
Lynn knew—she didn't long for Dothraki savagery, but that unrestrained vitality.
"You seem quite familiar with this place." Lynn finally spoke.
"I grew up here."
Daenerys leaned on his shoulder, voice somewhat low.
"From Braavos to Myr, then Pentos—we were kicked around like balls."
"Every time, brother said it was our last wandering."
"Yet every time, we fled before dawn with all our belongings, because creditors came again."
She raised her head, purple eyes gazing unblinkingly at Lynn.
"Do we have a home now too?"
Lynn's heartstrings were gently plucked. He held her tighter.
"When we return, the entire North will be your home."
Sea wind whipped her skirt, making her look like an elf about to ride the wind.
"ROAR—"
A low dragon's roar from the clouds broke the sea's tranquility.
Winter's massive body burst through mist, wings carving two white wakes on the sea surface.
It circled lower, three enormous heads curiously examining the toy-like ships below.
The leftmost, most lively head suddenly stretched its neck, cautiously approaching the ship's rail—approaching Daenerys.
Those lava-like golden vertical pupils showed no savagery or cruelty, only pure curiosity.
It gently sniffed Daenerys's scent, throat emitting cat-like purring sounds.
Then used its enormous nose to gently nuzzle Daenerys's shoulder.
Daenerys startled first, body instinctively tensing.
But when that warm breath sprayed on her cheeks, her fear miraculously dissipated.
She tentatively extended her hand, gently patting that dragon head larger than her entire body.
Winter seemed to enjoy this stroking, comfortably closing its eyes.
Lynn stood aside, face expressionless watching this scene, yet his brow involuntarily twitched.
An indescribable sourness surged from his heart without warning.
This dragon—I raised it "myself."
Food, drink—what didn't I provide?
Now look.
Just a few days, and it's learned to flirt with other women?
Lynn suddenly understood Robb Stark's feelings.
Your carefully raised tender cabbage, stolen by some unknown pig—who wouldn't be angry?
Problem was—this pig was one he raised himself.
Even more infuriating.
"It seems to really like me."
Daenerys turned back, face blooming with bright smiles.
Those violet eyes sparkled with unprecedented brilliance.
"Mm, its eyesight isn't great."
Lynn replied flatly.
Daenerys froze, then understood Lynn's meaning, cheeks faintly flushing, yet lips couldn't help curving upward.
She discovered her husband wasn't as cold as he appeared.
Winter nuzzled her briefly before Lynn's icy glare sent it back.
Three heads shrank, wings flapping aggrievedly, flying back to high altitude.
"That's the Disputed Lands over there."
Daenerys was in good spirits, pointing at the distant blurred coastline.
Beginning to introduce Lynn to this land.
"Countless wars erupted here."
"Myr, Lys, Tyrosh—these three Free Cities fought for centuries over this territory."
She raised slender fingers, pointing southeast.
"East lies Myr—a city famous for exquisite tapestries and lace."
"Many luxuries in Magister Illyrio's estate came from there."
"Those people excel at poison. Their teardrop poison—colorless, tasteless, kills invisibly."
She spoke eloquently, voice crisp, that exquisite face radiating confident glow.
No longer that girl trembling behind her brother—she was striving to show Lynn her value.
Not far away, in the ship rail's shadows—
Viserys drained the last mouthful from his wineskin.
Harsh liquid burned his throat, yet couldn't extinguish his heart's jealous fire.
He watched that embracing pair on deck.
Watched that genuine happiness and trust on Daenerys's face he'd never seen before.
His fists clenched tight.
That woman is mine!
My sister, Targaryen family property!
Since childhood, she'd been like a docile puppy, only following behind, looking at him with begging eyes.
Now—why does she show that expression to another man?
That man—just a Northern savage who stole Targaryen power!
I am the dragon!
Dragons should be ridden by me!
The throne should be inherited by me!
Viserys staggered upright, alcohol and jealousy mixing, fermenting into deadly poison in his brain.
He stumbled over.
"What are we chatting about, my dear sister?"
His voice carried drunkenness and spite.
"Teaching our great King-Beyond-the-Wall how to distinguish fine wines?"
Daenerys's body stiffened, instinctively wanting to pull from Lynn's embrace.
Lynn pressed her shoulder, keeping her secure in his arms.
"We're discussing future territories, King."
Lynn's tone was calm as still water.
"The Dothraki Sea, Slaver's Bay, even Asshai further east... Your kingdom isn't just that small piece called Westeros."
These words—like a strong drug—instantly excited Viserys's alcohol-numbed brain.
Yes!
My kingdom!
My future territories!
I am the king!
But the next second—
When he saw Daenerys still peacefully leaning in Lynn's embrace, not even bothering to glance at him—
That nameless fire blazed up again with a WHOOSH.
He felt ignored, humiliated by this dog couple!
"You!"
Viserys extended trembling fingers, pointing at Daenerys.
"Return to your cabin! You have no right to speak here!"
He tried using this method to reclaim his authority as brother, as king.
Daenerys finally raised her head, glancing at him.
That gaze held no fear, no submission—only pity, like watching a clown.
This glance completely shattered Viserys's last rationality.
"You bitch!"
He roared like an enraged beast, lunging at Daenerys.
"You dare disobey me! I'll show you what sleeping dragon's wrath means!"
His hand—about to grab Daenerys's smooth silver hair.
However, next second, his movement bizarrely froze mid-air.
Viserys looked down in horror.
He watched helplessly as a thin yet heart-stoppingly beautiful frost spread at visible speed from Lynn's feet.
Instantly covering his luxurious velvet sleeve cuffs.
That frost didn't harm him, yet seemed to freeze even his soul.
Absolute suppression from a higher life form!
"Your Majesty, seems you've truly drunk too much."
Lynn's voice remained calm.
He slowly raised his hand.
The frost on Viserys instantly melted, as if never existing.
"An illusion?"
Viserys's brain was already numbed by alcohol, consciousness unclear.
"Have you forgotten your identity?!"
Viserys roared at Daenerys.
"You're a Targaryen princess! Your blood, your body, everything is MINE!"
"You should please ME! Not this thief who stole our family's power!"
He turned, glaring at Lynn with hateful eyes.
"And you! Don't think marrying my sister gives you everything Targaryen!"
"Dragons! Only submit to true dragon bloodlines!"
"I am the last dragon!"
He raised his head, using all his strength, roaring at Winter circling in the sky.
"Dracarys!"
Sea wind howled. Only seagulls' mocking cries answered.
Winter merely tilted its middle, largest head, glancing at him like watching an idiot.
Then yawned.
A visible white cold breath sprayed from its enormous mouth, rushing toward Viserys.
Viserys shivered from that cold breath, his rage instantly half-extinguished.
The scene was incredibly awkward.
"Seems your dragon didn't hear your command, 'King' Viserys."
Lynn's voice revealed no emotion.
Viserys staggered back two steps, face alternating red and white, ugly to the extreme.
He couldn't understand—why?
Why won't the dragon obey me?
I'm Targaryen blood!
Could it be... I'm not the true dragon?
No! Impossible!
This thought barely emerged before he fearfully snuffed it out.
Must be this Northerner!
He used some witchcraft, bewitching the dragon!
"Your sister is now my wife."
Lynn stepped forward, tall figure completely shielding Daenerys behind him.
"And you're just a guest about to see his army."
"I hope you remember this identity, not make any more foolish moves."
Lynn's voice was calm, yet made Viserys feel like falling into an ice cave.
"Otherwise..."
Lynn didn't continue.
He just raised his hand, gently placing it on the ship rail.
CRACK—
Thin frost, centered on his palm, rapidly spread both directions.
That railing made of hard ironwood groaned under frost's burden.
Viserys's pupils violently contracted, face instantly draining of color.
This time, he truly saw it!
Earlier wasn't an illusion!
This is... magic?
He looked at Lynn's night-black eyes.
Soul-deep fear made his entire body tremble uncontrollably.
He finally realized—what he'd provoked wasn't an ally.
But a capricious devil who could crush him anytime.
"I... I..."
Viserys's lips trembled, unable to utter a word.
"See."
Lynn withdrew his hand, as if nothing happened.
"Now you should be somewhat sober."
Viserys turned, wordlessly walking toward his cabin, back desolate and pathetic.
Daenerys watched her brother's departing back.
"He..."
"Someone who can't even control his emotions doesn't deserve to be king."
Lynn interrupted her.
He watched Viserys's back, eyes cold.
Just a mad dog eager to die.
Upon reaching Slaver's Bay, he'd use Viserys's blood to repay his crimes against Daenerys!
Meanwhile, returning to his cabin, Viserys kicked over the wine cup on the table.
He lunged at the chest containing dragon eggs, frantically trying to open it.
But that chest had long been sealed by Lynn's Ice Magic.
He could only pound the chest like a madman with his fists until his knuckles bled.
"Mine... all mine..."
He slumped against the chest, sitting on the floor, mouth emitting mad growls.
Fear and humiliation finally condensed in his heart into killing intent colder than the Narrow Sea.
He raised his head—those pale purple eyes no longer held any mania or rage, only icy coldness.
"You will die."
"I will kill you."
"The dragon, Daenerys, the Iron Throne..."
"Everything will be mine."
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