"It's true I have three dragons, but I'm the last of the Targaryens. Prince Aegon is long dead," Daenerys said, turning to Whitebeard. "Do you know of 'A Song of Ice and Fire'? Rhaegar always said Aegon was the Prince That Was Promised, and that 'A Song of Ice and Fire' was destined for him."
To be born with an epic soundtrack already playing in the background—that sounded like the mark of a true protagonist.
Whitebeard fell into a thoughtful silence. After a long moment, he said, "The Targaryen crest is indeed three dragons, representing Aegon and his two sisters—three dragons, three dragonriders.
'The dragon has three heads' likely means this, but I don't know who the third one might be.
As for 'The Prince That Was Promised,' that prophecy has been circulating among the Targaryens for decades."
"The Prince That Was Promised? Is that a Targaryen prophecy?" Daenerys asked, looking at Jorah for confirmation.
"I'm sorry, I don't know," Jorah replied, frowning and shaking his head. He eyed the old man suspiciously. "Astan, how do you know this?"
"Heh, just old tales from decades past. You northerners are so ignorant," Whitebeard chuckled. He continued, "According to legend, a prince would be born to the Targaryen line, a reincarnation of Azor Ahai, who would—"
"Wait, Azor Ahai?" Daenerys interrupted, asking strangely, "Isn't it 'After the Long Summer, when a bleeding star tears the sky, Azor Ahai will be reborn in smoke and salt'?"
"Uh, something like that," Whitebeard nodded. "I'm familiar with that ancient prophecy from the Great Empire of the Dawn, which is said to be circulating in Essos. But in our Westeros, the prophets have explicitly stated that the reborn Azor Ahai will be a Targaryen prince, born within the last few decades."
*That damned Azor Ahai... is he really that revered? Do people all over the world, across every nation and people, long for his reincarnation?*
*Whether he actually saves the world from the White Walkers or not, the fact that he killed his wife to forge his sword is set in stone.*
*The Old Zebra Man told the story of the Heir Colon's Descendant Kingdom. After saving the world, Heir Colon went on to have many little Heirs Colon!*
*So, who did he have them with?*
*What a bastard!*
Sensing Daenerys's indifference, Whitebeard said seriously, "Even if Ser Mormont doesn't know the prophecy itself, he must have heard of 'Jenny of Oldstones'."
Not to mention Jorah, even Daenerys, who had never set foot in Westeros, knew of "Jenny of Oldstones."
In the world of *A Song of Ice and Fire*, she was the first Mary Sue and the ultimate white lotus.
At the wedding of Daenerys and Khal Drogo, all the guests brought gifts. Even Mormont, so poor he'd lost his wife, gifted two old books.
They were unnamed, parchment manuscripts that Daenerys had leafed through many times to understand her world.
They were probably *Westeros Fairy Tales*.
The book contained simplified, shallow tales of the Seven Kingdoms, designed to help children learn to read and write.
Among them was the story of Jenny of Oldstones.
She was said to have come from Oldstones, the ruins of a 6,000-year-old First Men capital in the wilderness. She had no clear parents, claiming only to be a descendant of the First Men kings (Oldstones had been the capital of a First Men king, destroyed 6,000 years prior during the Andals' invasion).
However, the nearby villagers didn't believe her, mocking her as a mad peasant girl—perhaps even a witch.
One thing was certain: she was a stunning beauty, mysterious and captivating.
So much so that Prince Duncan, already betrothed, encountered Jenny in the wild, her hair adorned with wildflowers. He was willing to abandon his claim to the throne to marry her.
Speaking of which, Jenny could be considered Daenerys's great-aunt-in-law. Her husband was the elder brother of Daenerys's paternal grandfather.
Hmm, Daenerys's paternal grandfather got a great bargain, obtaining the throne as a second son.
"Jenny of Oldstones is connected to the Prince That Was Promised?" Daenerys asked in surprise.
"Princess Jenny didn't enter the palace alone; she brought a close friend from childhood, a female prophet," Whitebeard said, his blue eyes glinting with remembrance. His deep, resonant voice carried slowly to the ears of the assembled group.
"Princess Jenny called her companion the Children of the Forest, but everyone else dismissed her as merely a peculiar-looking dwarf.
That witch once told your grandfather that the Prince That Was Promised would be born of Prince Aerys and Princess Rhaella.
So, your parents might not have loved each other, yet they still married. Alas, fate plays cruel tricks. If King Aerys ever knew true love, it must have been with Joanna of Casterly Rock."
"Joanna of Casterly Rock?" Mormont asked, his voice trembling with shock. "You can't mean Joanna Lannister, can you?"
Whitebeard gazed deeply at the knight. "The wife of Lord Tywin, and Princess Rhaella's lady-in-waiting. Joanna grew up in the Red Keep, and His Majesty Aerys..."
"Ah, that's beside the point. Seeing Your Grace Daenerys now, I feel the prophet's prophecy has been fulfilled," he said, shaking his head at Daenerys.
"Heh, you think I'm the Prince That Was Promised, the reincarnation of Azor Ahai?" Daenerys shook her head with a light laugh. "In the prophecy I saw, Rhaegar almost pierced through time to tell me that the infant in his arms was the true Prince That Was Promised."
"Prince Aegon is dead. The prophecy has been broken," Jorah said gravely.
"Regardless, you are the true queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Please return to Pentos with us," Whitebeard said to Daenerys.
Daenerys now saw clearly. Though Whitebeard was nominally Bevos's attendant, he was the true power behind the throne.
"When did you arrive in Qarth?" she asked.
"Four or five days ago."
"Why didn't you seek me out until today?"
Whitebeard explained, "Groleo, the captain of the merchant fleet, is both a captain and a proper Pentosi merchant. Merchants believe that a ship should never sail empty.
We brought fine Myrish crafts to Qarth and will take Eastern spices, silks, and porcelain back with us. The goods we brought haven't all been sold yet, and the Eastern goods haven't been acquired either."
At this, the old man frowned as he glanced at the Dothraki seated in the shade of the tree. He sighed. "We should have settled Your Grace's people and baggage first, then purchased Eastern goods based on the remaining cargo space."
"Did you rush here immediately after hearing I was about to leave?"
"Exactly so," the old man nodded.
One thing he didn't mention was that they were secretly assessing Daenerys's suitability to become queen of the Seven Kingdoms, which was another reason they hadn't approached her immediately.
For the old man, as long as Daenerys didn't inherit the Mad King's madness, she was qualified.
It wasn't that he had low standards; it was simply that there were too few candidates to choose from.
Daenerys asked a maid to attend to the two guests while she returned to the parlor with the Bloodriders and Jorah to discuss their next move.
Aggo and the others had always believed that the Dothraki should never leave the solid land. They feared the endless toxic waters would drown the world, making it too dangerous.
*Well, every Dothraki is a landlubber and terrified of the sea. Their views are riddled with bias and hold little value.*
After a moment's hesitation, Jorah suggested that Daenerys accept Illyrio's invitation.
"He's set his sights on you. Whether his motives are to profit from your restoration or something else, he won't easily give up your three dragons. He found you once with such precision and speed; he can do it again. If you keep refusing, perhaps..."
He paused, allowing Daenerys to consider the worst-case scenario herself, then continued, "Traveling by sea would also be safer and faster."
"We're not suited for fighting on poisoned waters," Quaithe countered. "Our strength would be reduced by more than half."
"The sea route is harder to track," Jorah replied. "If we don't encounter enemies, we'll be safer. Though you are warriors of the horse, the two greatest skills of Essos—the Arakh and archery—don't become completely useless on a ship."
A sharp glint flashed in Jorah's eyes. "In fact, if necessary, we have the strength to seize control of the ship. We won't go to Pentos. The ship will take us to Slaver's Bay."
The next morning, Captain Groleo came to meet Daenerys.
He was a weathered, burly old sailor of medium height, his shaggy beard and curly black hair merging into a single mass. Only his wide, toothy grin and straightforward, piercing dark brown eyes stood out on his face.
During their conversation, Captain Groleo showed no assertiveness. Upon meeting Daenerys, he immediately offered to give up his captain's quarters.
Like Bevos, he had already decided to serve and be loyal to Daenerys.
Of course, Daenerys wouldn't ask him to change course the moment they met.
Even Daenerys wouldn't have brought it up herself. At just fifteen, she was innocent and naive, lacking any independent thought and blindly obeying Jorah Mormont's every word.
If Illyrio had any ulterior motives, the Queen's Guard should be blamed.
When Zharo learned that Illyrio was sending a ship to pick her up, he merely agreed to extend her lodging for a few days, but insisted she pay for her own meals.
After that, he rarely appeared in person, communicating only through his steward.
While waiting for the merchant ship to arrive with its cargo, Daenerys remained busy. First, she had to sell all 300 recently purchased camels, taking a small loss.
Not only the camels had to go. The weak, the elderly, women, and children wouldn't be riding horses; except for the 80 elite cavalrymen, the rest of the horses would also be disposed of.
In truth, Daenerys had sold seven-tenths of the tribe's warhorses, then spent the money to equip the cavalrymen with superior, more robust steeds.
Khal Drogo's best horses had been taken by the many new Khals who had left. The remaining horses were unsuitable for the battlefield.
Finally, Daenerys asked Captain Groleo to select two hundred sailors from his fleet. All the Dothraki, including the Bloodriders, were ordered to learn to swim, with the sailors acting as instructors.
Jorah Mormont had grown up by the sea and didn't need any training.
After two more days passed, Daenerys ate breakfast—a bowl of shrimp and loofah soup—and decided to visit the docks in person to inspect Groleo's large ship. She wanted to check for any overlooked problems, such as scurvy, the dreaded disease that had plagued sailors during the Age of Exploration.
She wondered if this magical world faced the same challenge. The journey from Qarth to Pentos was far longer than the Atlantic crossing in Europe.
She wore faded sand-silk trousers and woven sandals to the stables.
A silver-buckled belt hung at her slender waist, adorned with a small curved knife.
Her silver hair, which cascaded to her shoulder blades, had been braided into Dothraki-style braids by Ji Qi, each ending in a silver bell that chimed with her light steps.
The Dothraki handmaidens considered Daenerys's burning of the warlock in the Hall of Dust and sending the Undying's souls to hell a glorious victory, fully deserving of an extra bell in her braid.
Daenerys felt helpless. It wasn't about the bells, but the fact that even these simple-minded Dothraki believed she had killed the Undying. Was the great warlock truly less intelligent than a Dothraki?
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