Suddenly, Daenerys noticed sharp spikes protruding from Drogon's body—something she had never seen on Rhaegal or Viserion. She could only guess that Drogon was growing faster than his brothers and had matured earlier.
Fortunately, the spikes could soften; otherwise, even petting him would have been dangerous.
"Hiss..."
Drogon's hind leg twitched, and he let out a soft hiss.
"Drogon, did I hurt you?"
Only then did Daenerys realize that, while admiring his beautiful scales, she had accidentally pressed against the deepest part of his wound.
She carefully cleaned the injury, and the physician reached into his bag, producing a jar of thick black ointment.
The moment Daenerys saw it, she remembered Mirri Maz Duur—the maegi who had treated Khal Drogo—with a very similar black salve.
She instinctively stopped the physician before he could apply it, studying his face for any sign of ill intent.
The physician looked confused.
Drogon, meanwhile, wanted nothing to do with the ointment. Regardless of whether it worked, it looked like the kind that would dry together with the flesh. He had no intention of letting a lump of medicine become embedded in his leg.
The wound looked frightening, but with his physique, it should heal quickly on its own.
Seeing Daenerys stop the physician, Drogon seized the opportunity and fluttered out of her hands into the air.
Finding nothing suspicious in the physician's expression, Daenerys was about to let him continue when she realized Drogon had already flown away.
"Drogon, are you sure you'll be fine without medicine?" she asked.
Drogon nodded in midair.
Since he clearly refused, Daenerys didn't insist. There was little she could do to force him anyway. She decided to keep a close eye on the injury and only apply the ointment if it failed to heal properly.
With nothing left to do, the physician packed away the medicine and departed.
After he left, Drogon flew back and settled on Daenerys's shoulder.
Missandei quickly stepped forward.
"Your Grace, it's time. The Academy's founding ceremony is about to begin."
She had wanted to remind Daenerys earlier, but seeing how focused she had been on tending Drogon's injury, she hadn't dared interrupt.
Daenerys knew she had delayed the ceremony, but compared to the celebration, Drogon's well-being mattered far more. Now that she knew his injury wasn't serious, she could finally attend with peace of mind.
As for the mysterious "he" that Drogon had mentioned, she decided she would slowly try to uncover the truth through his thoughts another day.
Outside the Great Pyramid, the square was already filled with people gathered for the inauguration ceremony.
When the appointed hour arrived and Daenerys still hadn't appeared, the crowd began to grow restless. Fortunately, the Unsullied maintained order, preventing any chaos.
Just as people began wondering about the delay, Daenerys emerged from the pyramid alongside Tyrion and Shireen, taking their seats behind a long table set atop the platform.
The people of Meereen looked at Tyrion and Shireen curiously, wondering why they were appearing on stage with the queen.
Having long grown accustomed to strange looks, neither Tyrion nor Shireen paid the crowd any mind as they calmly took their assigned seats.
Also seated at the table was Huntley, the artist who had once painted Daenerys's portrait.
Although the Academy had originally planned to introduce painting courses at a later date, the need to illustrate upcoming books had brought the program forward.
Once everyone was seated, Missandei and Daenerys rose together.
Missandei announced in a clear voice:
"Before you stands Daenerys Stormborn... Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Daenerys Targaryen."
After the formal introduction, Daenerys stepped forward.
"People of Meereen, and friends who have traveled from afar, I hereby declare that the Academy is officially established as of today!"
"Regardless of age, gender, birth, wealth, or status—whether commoner, noble, merchant, or Great Master—any talented individual from any of the four continents who meets the Academy's standards may study or teach here. No oath of loyalty will ever be required."
The moment she finished speaking, the square erupted into murmurs.
Until now, most people had only heard rumors about the Academy's admission policies.
Outside Slaver's Bay, many had refused to believe them.
In this world, knowledge belonged almost exclusively to nobles and powerful factions. Even wealthy merchants often had no access to proper education, much less ordinary commoners.
Who would willingly educate complete strangers for little more than a modest tuition fee?
Many people had come specifically to hear Queen Daenerys confirm the rumors herself.
Now that she had, they were both astonished and delighted.
She truly intended to make knowledge available to everyone at an affordable cost.
After Daenerys sat down, the discussions continued throughout the square. Even after several minutes, they showed no sign of stopping.
Missandei rose once more.
"The Academy currently offers instruction in Government, History, Languages, Medicine, and Painting. Additional disciplines will be opened in the future according to demand."
"Now, I will introduce the Academy's principal staff."
"The Queen herself will serve as Chancellor of the Academy."
"The Department of Government will be headed by Tyrion Lannister, former Hand of the King in King's Landing."
Tyrion stood, nodded politely toward the crowd, and resumed his seat.
Only then did many realize that the dwarf seated on the platform had once governed the capital of Westeros itself.
No one dared underestimate him any longer.
"The Department of History will be led by Shireen Baratheon, niece of the late King Robert and daughter of Lord Stannis Baratheon."
The crowd buzzed again.
So that little girl was a member of House Baratheon.
Shireen calmly stood and gave the audience a small nod.
"The Department of Painting will be headed by the renowned artist Huntley Vico."
Huntley rose gracefully and offered the crowd a courteous bow.
"As for the Department of Languages, I will be its head," Missandei said with a smile. "My name is Missandei."
Those with sharp eyes immediately guessed her background.
The queen had entrusted an entire department to a former slave.
Once again, Daenerys had overturned everything they thought they knew.
Finally, Missandei announced:
"Anyone wishing to enroll in the Academy or register their talents may do so now."
With the brief inauguration complete, the ceremony gave way to on-site registration.
The Unsullied cleared away the long ceremonial table and replaced it with several registration desks as hopeful applicants began lining up.
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