The banquet was laid out. Daenerys sat at the head of the table, with Ily, Jorah Mormont, Elly, and Gigi seated to her left.
To her right sat Young Aegon in the first seat, followed by Jon Connington, then Tyrion, Sister Lemore, Maester Halton, Rolly the blacksmith's son from the Riverlands, and Tyrion's rumored dwarven girlfriend, Fenny.
In truth, Grey Worm and Daenerys's sworn Bloodriders were just outside the city. Summoning them would take little time, but tonight's banquet was somewhat unusual.
Young Aegon's identity was a delicate matter. Until it could be verified, it was best not to involve too many people.
Still, when the Dothraki handmaidens entered and took their seats, several guests, including Aegon and Connington, couldn't help but glance over with surprise.
In theory, handmaidens weren't fit to dine with their mistress, especially with so many guests present.
Daenerys gestured toward Elly and Gigi, now seated, and introduced them: "The tall, athletic one is Elly, and the other is Gigi. They're about my age and have been with me for many years. They are not only my trusted handmaidens, but also hold the title of 'High Ladies' in Astapor.
'High Lady' is a noble rank. According to Westerosi terms, they are equivalent to court officials with the rank of countess."
Elly and Gigi stood proudly and gave the guests across the table a traditional Dothraki greeting.
At that, the odd expressions on Aegon, Connington, and Tyrion's faces faded. Their gazes toward the Dothraki women grew more respectful, and they returned the greeting seriously.
Reality can be just that simple.
In Slaver's Bay, women held only three noble ranks: Lady Minor, Lady, and High Lady—corresponding to knight, lord, and count respectively.
These ranks were honorary, denoting status without land or inheritance rights, much like court titles in Westeros.
Currently, the highest noble title in Slaver's Bay was Cleon's "Count of Broken Chains," placing him on the same level as Elly and Gigi.
The White Knights and Bloodriders held no titles, but their standing naturally placed them above others.
Dinner was lavish. Golden roasted lamb chops, oily Dothraki blood sausages, tender beef in coconut soup, fresh salmon sashimi, shredded pork with wood ear mushrooms, fish head with chili, chicken stewed with shiitake mushrooms, steamed crabs the size of bowls, oil-braised lobsters as long as arms, baked apples with a hint of cinnamon, and fruit cakes dusted with powdered sugar.
Something... seemed off with the menu.
Tyrion and the others stared at the enormous fish heads on their plates, exchanging bewildered glances, unsure how to start eating.
But this was the Queen's table, and the Queen made the rules. She liked her meals to be a mix of many culinary styles. She ate what she wanted.
As for how others felt about it—she didn't care in the slightest.
She was a queen. Wasn't she entitled to a few privileges?
After several rounds of wine and courses of food, the table's conversation began to shift.
"Ser Connington, forgive me for asking—are you the Count of Griffin's Roost?" asked old Maester Aemon, wiping oil from the corner of his mouth and studying the weathered man across from him.
To be honest, Daenerys had been wanting to ask the same question for some time: Jon, which Jon are you exactly?
This was one area where Jorah Mormont fell short of Barristan Selmy. Bear Island was too remote, its social circle too small.
There were simply too many noble families in Westeros—hundreds of counts, thousands of landed knights. Just knowing the names wasn't enough; there were too many duplicates.
And Bear Island was not only remote, it was poor.
Everyone knew that the poorer someone was, the less social interaction they had.
In fact, joining Eddard Stark in Robert's Rebellion had been Jorah Mormont's first time leaving the North.
Barristan was different. His family lands were more prosperous.
As a legendary White Knight famous since youth and of noble birth, he met many influential figures in King's Landing.
So when Connington came seeking help—even though he'd heard that Barristan was no longer in Astapor—he knew Jorah Mormont was in Slaver's Bay, yet didn't mention him. Instead, he claimed to be an old acquaintance of Barristan.
The truth was, Connington was simply being honest.
He'd heard of Jorah Mormont too. Who in Westeros hadn't heard of the disgraced lord who lost his honor and his wife?
But in Slaver's Bay, the only person he actually knew was Barristan.
Had Barristan been here, he would have recognized Connington at first glance.
Maester Aemon was well-versed in the noble lineages of the Seven Kingdoms, but after more than fifty years on the Wall, he knew the names but not the faces.
Still, Jon Connington was a famous figure in Westeros.
Daenerys, Mormont, and Aemon all knew of the Mad King's Hand, Prince Rhaegar's closest friend (a true companion)—Jon Connington.
It was precisely because they believed Connington had died years ago that they doubted whether this man was truly him.
"I am the same man who was exiled by King Aerys and once served as the Hand of the King, as well as the Count of Griffin's Roost."
That title brought back bitter memories of his disgrace. The wine in his mouth turned sour as he recalled the ill-fated Battle of the Bells.
After recounting how he faked his death and raised Young Aegon in secret, Connington spoke with a heavy heart. "I failed King Aerys, failed Prince Rhaegar, and failed you, Your Majesty Daenerys."
Those familiar with the events of the Battle of the Bells understood exactly why he apologized and why he was filled with regret.
"Ser, there's no need to apologize," Daenerys said, waving a hand and speaking solemnly. "You upheld your honor. You refused to slaughter the innocent men, women, and children of Stonedance. That was an act of great virtue and should be commended. You should be proud."
"But... I missed my chance," Connington replied, shocked. "I let the perfect opportunity to kill Robert slip away."
Daenerys scanned the room, reading the expressions on each face.
"Nephew, what do you think?" she asked Aegon.
The silver-haired young man was stunned into silence for a moment. Then he uncertainly replied, "You're... asking me?"
"Is there anyone else here who is my nephew?" Daenerys said coolly.
Young Aegon looked conflicted. On one hand, he was relieved that the Dragon Queen had indirectly acknowledged his identity; on the other, he felt powerless in the face of how completely she treated him like a junior.
Even though he was her nephew, he was also supposed to be her husband!Couldn't she just call him by name?
He was even half a year older than her!
As he thought this, most of his emotions showed plainly on his face.
He was a young man without much guile—Varys and Connington had done a fine job protecting him.
So thought Daenerys.
"Ser Connington was upholding the honor of a knight, and that's admirable," Aegon said thoughtfully, "but the people of Stonedance weren't innocent. They sheltered the usurper, making them enemies of the crown. Their actions were treasonous. Burning them was cruel, yes, but not excessive."
"You make a fair point," Daenerys nodded, then turned to the Imp. "What do you think?"
"Don't ask me what I think, Your Grace. Ask what I would do," Tyrion said, putting down his fork.
"All right then. If it were you, what would you do?"
"Without a doubt, I'd do exactly what my father would've done. My Aunt Genna always said I was more Tywin's son than Jaime ever was," Tyrion said with a grin.
"And what would Duke Tywin do? Burn the town?" Aegon asked.
"He wouldn't bother going into town to look for Robert. He'd surround the place immediately and set fire to the buildings," Tyrion shrugged.
Daenerys nodded. "That is Tywin's style. Just look at what he did to the Riverlands. It used to be the breadbasket of the Seven Kingdoms. Now it's nothing but scorched earth, famine, corpses, and ruined villages."
Snap! Tyrion clicked his fingers and said with a smile, "Exactly. Bring the war to enemy lands, destroy their resources, slaughter their people, and in doing so, strike at their lords."
"Too bad he still lost on the battlefield to a fledgling Young Wolf. After the War of the Four Kings, the ruined Riverlands just became a burden for the Iron Throne.
Look what happened to your sister. If not for the famine in the Riverlands, how would there have been so many poor folk flocking to King's Landing to become sparrows?" Daenerys said coolly.
"Uh..." Tyrion froze, then forced a sheepish smile. "If Your Grace were in Ser Connington's position, what would you have done?"
As soon as he spoke, everyone at the table stopped eating and turned to look at the Dragon Queen.
They all wanted to know what she would choose in such a dilemma.
"Well," Daenerys said slowly, "I haven't been to Stonedance, so I can't say for sure."
"What do you mean?" Tyrion asked, confused.
"I'm not sure whether the terrain around Stonedance is suitable for an ambush," she answered frankly.
"An ambush?" Everyone looked baffled.
They were expecting her to weigh honor against duty—why was she talking about ambushes now?
"I know Robert is in Stonedance, and the reinforcements know that too. So here's the question: since I know the enemy reinforcements will be desperate to save Stonedance, why shouldn't I ambush them in the narrow passes on the way?
Even if we kill Robert, so what?The Riverlands, the North, and the Vale have all joined the rebellion—together, they form a formidable force.
Maybe without Robert, they'd consider surrendering.
But even if they did surrender, they'd surely demand that the Iron Throne not pursue charges of treason—and they have the strength to make that demand.
And then what?Four of the Seven Kingdoms rebel, and the Iron Throne can't even punish them. How would the royal authority survive?
Might as well go all the way and wipe out the rebels entirely.
Let Robert stay in Stonedance.Perfect timing, since Eddard Stark, Jon Arryn, and Hoster Tully are all arriving together.
Back then, Lord Connington led troops from both the Reach and the Crownlands, his forces nearly matching the rebels.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have fought the Bell-Ringing Battle to a bloody stalemate, even after being ambushed.
So, with a well-planned ambush and favorable terrain, we'd win for sure.Take out the three major dukes, cripple their reinforcements, and Robert at Stonedance would be as good as dead.
In fact, with Robert's recklessness and courage, the moment he sees flames outside the town, he'll definitely come running out.
All I'd need to do is station a twenty-man squad at the town gate in advance."
"No matter how strong Robert is, he can't take on twenty soldiers by himself, right? One battle, and all four rebel dukes fall into my hands."
Daenerys looked at Tyrion, whose jaw was practically resting on the dining table, and asked,"If I take out four dukes and the entire allied rebel army in one battle, do you think your father would drop to his knees and call me 'Daddy'?Who else in the Seven Kingdoms would dare covet the Iron Throne after that?"
Tyrion's eyes bulged, his mouth wide open in shock, utterly dumbfounded.
Jon Connington sat dazed, his jaw practically on the floor.
Young Aegon looked like he was in a dream.
Lemore, Maester Septon, and Duckfield stared so hard their eyeballs looked ready to pop out.
Even old Maester Aemon was left blinking blankly, dazed and bewildered.
Only Jorah Mormont remained calm. Having followed the Dragon Queen through many campaigns, he was already immune to her astonishing strategies.
As for Irri and Jhiqui?
Well, the Dothraki handmaidens continued eating and drinking as usual, completely unfazed by the shock around them.Khaleesi is beyond the grasp of you mundane mortals—what's there to be so surprised about?
(End of Chapter)
Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon
https://patreon.com/Glimmer09