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Not long ago they had been drifting from one dusty town to another in the Disputed Lands, waiting for the next better-paying sellsword contract.
Now they ruled Volantis and were preparing to welcome guests from every corner of the known world, while loyal servants guarded their most precious treasures day and night.
The dragon eggs.
Daenerys made time every day—half an hour, sometimes a full hour—to be alone with the eggs.
She would stroke them, cradle them in her palms, and stare quietly at their intricate patterns.
She was more certain than ever that life slept inside them.
Even Viserys had come to believe it now, though she could still catch a faint trace of doubt in his voice.
Eleonora and the history books had warned her: too many Targaryens had gone mad from their hunger for dragons.
They remembered those stories clearly.
But when you could feel the living warmth beneath the shell, when you could sense the imprisoned heartbeat waiting for its moment, what did dusty old scrolls matter?
There had to be a way.
Her wise brother would find it.
And she was willing to give everything to help him.
Viserys had always kept a clear head. He would never let them repeat the mistakes of the Mad King Aerys or the ridiculous Aegon.
Just yesterday, while discussing the Valyrian steel sword left to him by the previous Triarchs, he had proven it again.
That blade was a treasure warriors from the Iron Islands to Yi Ti would sell their souls to possess.
Yet he had shown no wild joy, no loss of control—only a quiet satisfaction, as if he had simply acquired a well-made ordinary sword.
Daenerys had asked him yesterday why he remained so calm, almost indifferent.
His answer had been startlingly simple:
No sword, no matter how fine, makes a man invincible.
Valyrian steel might be sharp and strong, but it could not stop crossbow bolts, boiling oil, cavalry charges, or hidden arrows.
That was when Viserys had told her:
No matter how much something looks like a gift from the gods, never let down your guard.
If her brother could remain this level-headed even when faced with a sword that drove men mad with desire, then he would surely approach magic with the same caution.
"Doreah." This time the princess spoke first. "There's something I've been wanting to ask you."
"Please, my princess," the slave answered softly while carefully combing through her silver hair.
"It's… well… there's no point hiding it. Viserys is very… very important to me. And soon… I may not only be his sister, but also his wife…"
She was almost certain of it now.
"But I don't know how to tell him how much he means to me."
As she spoke she closed her eyes, hoping the heat of the bath would hide the blush spreading across her cheeks.
Daenerys had long noticed that her feelings for her brother were slowly changing.
When she was a child he had been her teacher, protector, and anchor—the big brother who explained the world to her, shielded her from harm, and kissed her forehead goodnight.
But as she had grown and blossomed, she had come to understand that the way she looked at Viserys now was no longer simply a sister looking at her brother.
It was a woman looking at a man.
A brave, resolute, tall, and extraordinarily handsome man.
Deep inside her, the flames of desire burned hotter every day.
She knew the ancient Targaryen tradition of brother and sister marrying to keep the blood pure.
She also understood that her duty was to give her brother heirs.
Yet the life between husband and wife could be very different.
It could be like King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne—full of love and harmony.
Or it could be like her own parents.
She had asked her brother and Eleonora, who had once served their mother, about their parents' marriage.
Viserys always closed the topic quickly. Eleonora, however, had not hidden the uncomfortable truth.
Aerys and Rhaella's marriage had, at best, never been happy.
Quite the opposite.
Even before his madness, their father had loved another woman. Their mother had grown cold toward her husband.
Year after year, things had only grown worse…
Daenerys refused to let herself and Viserys repeat that fate.
"Oh, my princess, you've asked the hardest question of all." The favored slave giggled softly. "Lady Rhaenella taught us many things, but never this. Who would pay a whore to hear such talk? I'd love to help you, but on this matter I truly have little to say."
"If my lady permits…" Naera spoke up timidly, "perhaps… I could help a little…"
"Of course. Go on." Daenerys nodded gently, trying to encourage the new slave.
"Why don't you start by talking with Lord Viserys about love? Not by confessing your own feelings directly, but casually mentioning it—through stories or songs, whether from Westeros or Volantis, as long as they're beautiful ones." She spoke faster and faster. "Then you can compare yourself to the heroine in the story. Of course, choose one with a happy ending. Men… they all like to be seen in a romantic light…"
Daenerys was surprised when Doreah let out such a heavy sigh.
"Then tell me, Naera, where exactly did you get these profound insights? About what men like? How many men have you been with?" The Lysene slave immediately went on the attack. "Did you have a sweetheart before you were sold?"
"No…"
"Before you were sold to our current master, had any other man bought you?"
"No…"
"Good. Then I'll ask you again: where did this idea come from?"
"My… my mother told me. And my aunt, before she passed."
"There we are. You're not even sure yourself, yet you're trying to advise the princess…"
Daenerys frowned. She didn't like them arguing in front of her.
"Enough, Doreah!"
"As you command." Doreah's aggression vanished instantly and she returned to perfect meekness.
"You know what? Why don't you tell me instead," Daenerys said, unable to hold back a small laugh. "What do men like? No—better yet, what does Viserys like? That would actually be useful."
"Oh, it would be my honor." Doreah's hands never stopped working through her hair. "The master enjoys feeling in control of a woman. He likes to command her… You must fulfill his every wish without bargaining. If you can give him even more than he asks, he will appreciate it more. His woman should not be a lifeless doll, but she must come when called.
Don't be stingy with your moans of pleasure. Don't be stingy with praise for his strength.
In this regard, almost all men are the same.
You can't imagine, my princess, how fragile and sensitive their pride is when it comes to matters of the bed!
Of course there are exceptions. Some men prefer the woman to take charge."
"Really?" Daenerys asked with genuine curiosity.
"Yes, but Master Viserys is not one of them. However…" Doreah lowered her voice, smiling slyly, "he is much more indulgent with Lady Eleonora. Sometimes he even lets her decide how the night will go. And you, my princess, are the sister he loves most… I'm certain that if even lowly slaves like us can bring the master pleasure, he will be especially gentle and attentive with you."
"I should talk to her, but… seven hells, asking Eleonora about this would be so embarrassing! Not long ago she was teaching me swordplay, and now I'd have to discuss this…"
"So my brother is gentle with you?"
"I wouldn't use the word 'gentle'—it's not quite accurate," Doreah corrected her lightly. "Pleasure, my princess, can be given in many ways. It doesn't always mean treating a woman like fragile glass. Your noble brother has a perfect body, a handsome face, great endurance, and many skills… Many women would fall for such a man."
Daenerys fell silent in thought.
After all, only Doreah was speaking.
A woman who had been a slave and lover for many years—and Viserys's favorite at that.
What if she asked the quiet Naera as well?
"Naera… has my brother… touched you?"
Doreah gave a kind laugh while the princess opened her eyes again.
She wanted not only to hear but to see their expressions.
"Y-yes, my lady. Several times already." The Volantene girl answered in a low voice, gently washing her mistress's right hand.
"Tell me the details. I want to know everything."
"A week ago…" Naera began, "Lord Viserys came to the bath, very tired and wanting to rest. We bathing slaves were lined up before him, and then… he chose me."
"Why?" Daenerys's voice held only pure curiosity.
"My lord said…" Naera's gaze dropped shyly into the water, "that I was… well-formed. And that I should serve him well."
"The first part is certainly true. Your body really is quite pleasing." Doreah laughed, stopped what she was doing, and reached out to gently cup Naera's breast, her fingers skillfully teasing.
Naera's face turned bright red. She froze and looked at Daenerys with silent pleading.
The princess barely managed to suppress her smile and signaled Doreah to let go.
Doreah obeyed, then gave the girl a sisterly kiss on the cheek before continuing.
"There, there. I wasn't insulting you. Knowing your strengths and using the gifts the gods gave you is no bad thing."
Doreah's tongue was sharp, but her heart wasn't cruel.
She would mock clumsy girls, but she genuinely wanted to help them.
Otherwise, with Naera's timid and gentle nature, she would never survive long in this palace.
"Back to the point," Daenerys said softly. "So, Naera, did you serve him well?"
"Yes… I hope so…" Naera realized she shouldn't presume to judge her master and quickly corrected herself. "I washed him thoroughly from head to toe. I served him with my hands and mouth… and I… sat on top of him… I hope… he enjoyed it."
"You said the master has called for you several times?" Doreah interrupted again.
"Yes."
"Did he call you by name?"
"He did."
"That's a good start," Doreah assured the Volantene girl. "It means he remembers you among all the others."
A disturbing thought suddenly struck Daenerys.
She herself knew nothing about how to be a proper lover!
She only had vague ideas and guesses. Compared to the experience of these two slaves, what did she know?
What if on their wedding night she performed terribly and frightened him away?
She could never bear such humiliation!
No matter how many songs praised noble love, in reality a happy marriage also required physical pleasure.
The princess did not voice this worry. Instead she quickly thought of a solution.
"Doreah… starting tomorrow morning, you will teach me. Teach me how to… please him. Tell me every detail. And if it can be demonstrated, demonstrate it for me."
"Are you certain, my princess?" The Lysene slave sounded slightly startled.
"Completely certain. I know nothing about these things. Nothing at all."
"It's not as difficult as you think. Many would say you don't need to know any of this before the wedding night."
"Those people…" Daenerys said firmly, "will not become Viserys's wife. I refuse to scare him away on our wedding night."
"As you wish…"
At that moment a new slave Daenerys did not recognize interrupted their conversation.
She too was naked, with dark skin and a graceful, alluring figure that looked as if carved from rare wood.
The girl knelt before the princess and reported softly:
"Lady Daenerys, this servant was sent to inform you that Lord Viserys has returned to the palace. The preparations for the celebration are also nearly complete."
"Then we must not delay." Daenerys said at last. "Go and tell my lord I will be ready within the hour."
The dark-skinned slave bowed and withdrew.
The Lysene and Volantene slaves, now carrying a new sense of purpose, continued their attentive service.