The Overlooked Dragon

The Sealord saw everything, but no displeasure showed on his face. Ronan found that a little dull.

It seemed the Sealord of Braavos was a man with a very deep city behind his eyes. No one here could be underestimated.

A magister's value clearly stood above that of a sellsword captain, and Viserys hurried to answer Illyrio with all the dignity he could gather.

Daenerys, by contrast, walked toward Ronan with unmistakable relief. Everyone present saw it. The Sealord found it interesting, though he said nothing.

Illyrio was no fool either. Offending a sellsword captain who lived on the edge of blades was rarely wise.

The weakest person in the room, Prince Viserys, was the one who grew furious. To him, Daenerys was his possession.

Without his permission, no man could touch what belonged to him. Even if he did not want her, no outsider was allowed to want her.

He had not realized that Daenerys was no longer the woman he could strike and curse at will.

So when Viserys snapped at Ronan, Daenerys corrected him without hesitation.

"Viserys Targaryen, mind your words. House Targaryen is not a savage house. We are the blood of dragon kings, and you have shown discourtesy before the Sealord."

She did not mention Ronan. Instead, she used the Sealord's dignity to press her brother down.

She knew Viserys needed the Sealord's help and would not dare insult him openly. As expected, once his sister rebuked him, Viserys had nowhere to put his temper.

Anger filled him, but he could only swallow it. He had never felt such humiliation.

Illyrio interrupted in time, sparing the room from growing even more awkward.

"Your Highness, since we are all gathered, perhaps we should speak of the matter at hand."

"Very well," the Sealord said.

He waved to the guards, and soon only five people remained in the hall. Viserys was desperate to reclaim the Iron Throne, so he tolerated his sister's insolence for now.

Once he sat that throne, punishing an unruly whore and a sellsword captain would be simple enough.

Even a prince as mad with pride as Viserys was learning restraint. Power was a marvelous thing.

In truth, the matter at hand was nothing more than deciding the future of the two Targaryen siblings.

Illyrio had already exchanged letters with the Sealord. His proposal was to take the Targaryens to Pentos. The Sealord had little reason to refuse.

Keeping the siblings in Braavos no longer served him. It might even invite the Iron Throne's displeasure.

Handing them to Illyrio suited the peaceful rule the Sealord wished to present. Still, he could not simply throw them away.

That would look cold, and it would give others words to use against him. More importantly, he had once served as witness to the secret betrothal between Prince Viserys and Arianne Martell, Prince Doran's eldest daughter.

Secret or not, the matter carried political weight. The Sealord also understood Illyrio's plan. The Pentoshi magister intended to give the Targaryen princess to a Dothraki khal in exchange for support.

In principle, the two ideas did not conflict. They could even reinforce each other and raise the chance of success.

But where House Targaryen was concerned, the principal players mattered too. At first, the men had assumed gaining Viserys's consent would be enough.

Now it seemed Princess Daenerys was not the meek, wordless figure their reports had described. In bearing and speech, she already carried the beginning of a true royal heir.

In Essos, no one was careless about the Dothraki. Even the Sealord did not enjoy drawing a khalasar's eye.

Braavos might depend on maritime trade, but it still drew important resources from the mainland. Fresh water alone tied the city to land.

Offending a future khaleesi was not, in his view, a wise choice. When Viserys saw everyone's attention shift toward his sister, his newly learned patience snapped. He restated his position with solemn force.

"Sealord, Magister Illyrio, I, Viserys Targaryen, am the rightful heir of the dragon kings."

"Of course," the Sealord said. "Who has said otherwise?"

Illyrio immediately agreed.

"Prince Viserys, do not misunderstand me. I am willing to spend all my wealth to help restore House Targaryen. I ask only for the post of Master of Coin when the time comes."

Viserys accepted without thinking.

"Your generosity will receive its proper reward, Magister."

Then he looked toward Ronan and Daenerys with open challenge. With the support of the Sealord and Magister Illyrio, the sellsword company suddenly seemed insignificant in his eyes. His spine straightened at once.

Before everyone present, he prepared to display his dragon's wrath. Daenerys had resisted him once, but seeing her brother regain power made fear stir again. Fortunately, Ronan stepped forward.

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