Xaro, as one of the Thirteen Great Lords of Qarth, had prepared a residence that even the worldly Daenerys found astonishing.
A garden filled with blooming, exotic flowers, a spacious marble bath, a towering crystal divination tower—also known as an observatory—and even a garden maze.
The entire palace was larger than the marketplace she had seen before, easily accommodating the two hundred members of the Khalasar, and could have housed twice that number.
In fact, Xaro had provided two hundred servants for her.
After the Khalasar and its horsemen were settled in the palace, Daenerys sat by the pool, enjoying the pleasant sensation of fish nibbling at her toes. She marveled that the Qarthians even had "kissing fish."
Suddenly, the sky above darkened. She turned her head and was startled to see Quaithe silently appear beside her.
"You—"
"I must leave," she said.
"Oh, goodbye," Daenerys replied, startled. She had thought something was wrong.
"Be careful!" Quaithe said abruptly.
"Uh..." Daenerys paused, then asked hesitantly, "Careful of what?"
"Everyone, be careful. From this moment on, they will flock to witness this reborn miracle day and night, and their greed will surge. For the blood and flesh of dragons are forged from fire, and fire is power. Dragons are the source of all mystical forces."
Though her red-lacquered mask concealed her expression, Daenerys could still detect the solemnity in her voice.
After warning Daenerys, Quaithe departed as discreetly as she had arrived.
Having lost all interest in enjoying the luxuries of court life, Daenerys immediately summoned Jorah and the Bloodriders to the fish spa. While they enjoyed the gentle kisses of the tiny fish, she relayed Quaithe's warning.
"I don't trust her," Jorah spoke first. "I can't read her. Every Shadowbinder deserves our vigilance, but this time she didn't threaten us. From the moment we entered this city, I've sensed an unwelcoming atmosphere that makes me uneasy."
"I don't like the way the 'Milk-Skins' look at us," Rakharo said grimly, grinding his teeth. "It's like they're looking at rare animals captured in the wild."
The Qarthian people had exceptionally pale skin, the color of fresh milk, noticeably lighter than other white-skinned peoples. This was why the Dothraki called them "Milk-Skins."
Daenerys glanced at him in surprise, not expecting her Bloodrider to have such keen senses.
It was true that the Qarthians had welcomed them warmly today, but there were many kinds of welcome. Welcoming a distinguished guest was different from welcoming a panda to the city.
Thus, as Daenerys passed through the Middle Wall streets, she unconsciously put herself in Arthas's shoes.
*Lordaeron welcomed Arthas's triumphant return with celebratory bells, roaring cheers, and petals showering from the sky. That same day, Arthas unleashed the Scourge upon Lordaeron and slaughtered the city.*
"They want to see dragons," Daenerys said, turning to Quaithe. "Arrange two groups of guards—one visible, one hidden—to watch the three dragons. They must remain vigilant at all times while we're here."
"Aggo, Jhogo, you'll assign men and women to thoroughly scout the terrain around our camp, including the layout of buildings, the structure of houses, and the disposition of palace guards."
Finally, she looked solemnly at Jorah. "Ser Jorah, I understand our precarious position. I want you to go to the markets, the docks, the taverns, even the brothels. Find out how the common people of Qarth feel about us and gather information about the Qarthian elite."
After a moment's thought, she added, "Since this is a trade hub connecting the East and West, there must be merchants from Westeros and other city-states here. While you're gathering information, you can also spread word about me and my dragons."
"But..." Ser Jorah hesitated. "You were worried about the Usurper sending assassins after you. Now you're actively announcing that you'll bring dragons back to Westeros? Even if the Usurper is dead, his son remains."
"The situation has changed. The hatching of the dragons is already exposed. If King's Landing is watching us, they'll know immediately. It's better to make this a focal point—it will protect us and..."
...distract everyone, concealing her true objective.
That evening, Daenerys enjoyed the luxurious food befitting a palace: stir-fried peacock tongues.
*Mmp, using peacock tongues for a dish—even the most gluttonous ancient Chinese emperor wouldn't have thought of that!*
The next morning, just as Quaithe had warned, the Qarthian elite arrived at Xaro's palace in palanquins, surrounded by a retinue of servants.
Xaro accompanied them to Daenerys's residence. They claimed to be utterly captivated by her beauty and noble lineage, and sincerely presented her with gifts of silk, jewels, exotic animals, and even a dwarf skilled in special crafts. Finally, they wept profusely while praising the greatness of dragons, their eyes darting around the room.
*Hmm, Qarthians do love to weep. They see it as a sign of their refined civilization.*
Daenerys understood their intentions and didn't refuse. She directly produced the small, chained dragon, causing the Qarthian nobles to weep even more fiercely.
The Qarthian elite were composed of three major power blocs: the Royal Family, the merchants, and the warlocks.
In this era of vanishing dragons and lost magic, the once-mighty warlocks had lost their power and thus their influence. The Royal Family controlled Qarth's camel cavalry and city fleet, ruling the city in name only.
The merchants formed three powerful guilds: the Thirteen, the Tourmaline Brotherhood, and the Ancient Guild of Spicers. In a trade city like Qarth, real power naturally lay with the merchants.
However, the internal struggles between the three merchant guilds were fierce. If not for the need to check the Royal Family's power, they would have long since torn each other apart over control of the city.
The first day, the remaining twelve of the Thirteen visited Daenerys. The Tourmaline Brotherhood came the next day.
After seeing the dragon, the gem merchants spent a full week crafting a three-headed Dragonlord crown for Daenerys: the Demon Dragon's coiled body was made of gold, its wings of silver, and its three heads carved from emerald, ivory, and agate.
On the third day, the Spice Guild delivered seventy-seven chests of precious spices from across the world to Daenerys.
*Hmm, when House Targaryen unified the Seven Kingdoms, they abandoned the gods of Ancient Valyria and adopted the Church of the Seven to integrate themselves into Westeros as foreign conquerors.*
*Theoretically, Daenerys should also be a follower of the Seven.*
*For believers of the Seven, the numbers seven, seventy-seven, and seven hundred seventy-seven are all auspicious.*
On the fourth day, Daenerys began receiving Qarthian figures of varying influence: small merchants, government officials, fleet commanders, and camel cavalry captains.
When she asked if the Xaro Royal Family would come, Xaro said with disdain, "What remains of the current Royal Family besides their supreme dignity and ancient glory? Accommodate them; take the initiative to meet them yourself."
However, seeing the Royal Family wasn't so simple. To gain an audience with them, one needed qualifications, and these qualifications were held by a few powerful individuals.
In simple terms, just as Tang Sanzang needed to offer gifts to Ananda and Kasyapa on his journey to obtain the true scriptures from the Buddha, Daenerys had to navigate a labyrinth of obstacles and grease the right palms to gain an audience with the Royal Family.
Even if she wanted to take a shortcut, she'd need the right connections. Blindly sending gifts without knowing the proper channels would be a waste of resources with no real effect.
Xaro, with an air of righteous authority, assured her he knew the ropes perfectly. He could guide her on who to approach, what gifts to offer, and how much to give each person.
Daenerys desperately wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, that she wasn't playing his game.
But Jorah had spent the past few days investigating Qarth's situation. While the Royal Family had indeed lost practical control of the city, the camel cavalry and the city guard still remained under their command.
Daenerys couldn't understand why a Royal Family that controlled the military had lost their ruling position. Perhaps this was the nature of trade city-states?
Or maybe the merchants were simply richer, and with more wealth, they could hire more armed forces, like mercenaries.
Xaro's proposal that Daenerys use connections to secure an audience with the Royal Family wasn't a secret among the Qarthian elite.
The Royal Family had likely already opened their palms, waiting for her to toss in gold coins. Refusing would be an insult to their dignity, and by extension, it would mean she wasn't considered their friend.
*Hmph. Not a friend, not a guest... then I have every right to strike.*
Jorah advised her, "This is Qarthian custom. Even in our Westeros, simply visiting my home doesn't automatically grant you guest rights.
Guest rights only take effect when a visitor enters the host's home, accepts the bread and salt offered, and is welcomed as a guest.
If the host lays his unsheathed sword across his knees, it signifies his refusal to establish guest relations, and guest rights naturally cease to exist."
"But forcing bribes is so crude! Is it common in the Seven Kingdoms for hosts to demand gifts from their guests?" Daenerys asked indignantly.
Jorah coughed as if he had choked, his thick beard failing to conceal the flush on his cheeks.
"No way," Daenerys gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"Not as blatant as in Qarth," Ser Jorah quickly clarified. "Guests offer 'guest gifts' primarily to express gratitude for the host's food and shelter. And when the guest leaves, the host might also give them a 'guest gift' in return.
This tradition usually occurs when the guest is in a vulnerable position, fearing the host might revoke their guest rights."
Daenerys realized she hadn't paid close attention to this detail while watching the show. The Night's Watch and the Wildling Craster provided a striking example of this custom.
Craster, the Wildling beyond the Wall, was the foremost "ghost father" in the world of ice and fire. He married his own daughter, and then married the daughter born from that union, continuing this incestuous cycle for decades, taking dozens of wives who were both daughters and granddaughters.
He also had sons, but every one was sacrificed to the White Walkers at birth.
It could be said that, with the exception of the Night King himself, nearly all the White Walkers were his offspring.
It's important to note that White Walkers are distinct from Wights. White Walkers are living humans transformed, while Wights are reanimated corpses.
Without Craster's shelter and provisions, the death rate among Night's Watch brothers who ventured north of the Wall would nearly double. Thus, the Night's Watch was dependent on him.
Not only did they turn a blind eye to his incestuous practices, but they were also frequently extorted by Craster for iron weapons—his "guest gifts."
Because of guest right, even Lord Commander Mormont, despite knowing Craster's ties to the White Walkers, was unable to harm him.
Guest right is a two-way street: the host cannot harm the guest, and the guest will not harm the host—even if the host is making deals with demons.
Seeing Daenerys lost in thought, Jorah urged her again, "The First Men have a tradition of guest right, and the Andals have similar laws. Perhaps guest right is universal across the world, just expressed in different ways."
"Fine," Daenerys sighed. "I'll send gifts to the Royal Family. I hope they'll send me some 'guest gifts' in return."
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