The man pressed his lips together, irritated, but his tone shifted to a more diplomatic one as he signaled to the slaves. They entered carrying two chests overflowing with gold.
—We don't have to be enemies, Khaleesi. Meereen is rich, and the masters are generous. Surely you'll need ships to reclaim your throne in Westeros: ships, weapons, gold… the great masters of Meereen can help you. If only you choose to leave.
Daenerys leaned back in her seat, unmoved.
—I can offer you something as well —she said at last.
The nobleman looked at her cautiously.
—And what would that be?
—Your life. And the lives of your great masters.
The room fell into a deathly silence.
—I'll give it to you, but only if Meereen frees all its slaves.
The noble's expression shifted from surprise to fury in a matter of seconds.
—Ridiculous! —he spat—. Never! We would rise in arms first! Do you think that because you brought a handful of men and winged beasts you can dictate our customs? The slaves are ours! Perhaps, after this war, you'll be one too.
Ser Barristan stepped forward, hand on the hilt of his sword. The bloodriders tensed, ready to act. Even the dragons lifted their heads, sensing their mother's mood. But Daenerys merely narrowed her eyes, a small dangerous smile playing on her lips.
—You live only because my husband isn't here to hear you say that —she murmured.
Lorto swallowed hard, realizing too late his mistake.
He tried to signal his slaves to retrieve the chests of gold, but the dragons roared, making it clear the gold no longer belonged to him.
—These are my gifts, Master Lorto. You gave them to me —Daenerys said with feigned indignation.
She leaned forward slightly, her tone turning more dangerous.
—Leave. Go tell your people my terms. If Meereen frees all the slaves, I won't attack the city.
The noble trembled with rage, but he had no other choice. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left the tent.
Daenerys exhaled slowly and stroked Vladion's head, feeling the warmth of her dragon beneath her hand.
—Do you have news of my husband, Katar?
Katar, one of Vlad's bloodriders, inclined his head slightly in respect. As a spawn of her Khal, he shared a telepathic bond with him, a connection that allowed them to communicate across distances.
—After leaving Astapor a fortnight ago, he headed to Yunkai to free it as well, Khaleesi —he replied with a bow.
Daenerys nodded slowly, processing the information.
—Is it true what they say? That he keeps one of Astapor's Great Masters alive… tortured? —she asked, unsure of what to think.
Katar looked up.
—It is, my Khaleesi. That man dared to speak ill of you. Lord Vlad punished him accordingly.
For a moment, Daenerys felt the urge to smile, but she held back and turned her gaze to Ser Barristan.
—How is our infiltration plan progressing?
—It goes well, Your Majesty. We've armed most of the slaves. Now we wait —the knight reported solemnly.
—Excellent. I'm sure my husband will appreciate the conquest of the city without spilling innocent blood —she said, gently stroking her dragons.
—Your Majesty… —Ser Barristan spoke cautiously, choosing his words—. Shouldn't we put an end to the rumors about your husband's use of sorcery?
Daenerys narrowed her eyes at him.
—There's no need, Ser Barristan. In fact, my husband wields sorcery with the same skill as he wields a sword. But I don't see why that should concern you. House Targaryen has had magic in its blood since the days of Old Valyria. If not for that, Ser, how do you think we bonded with dragons?
Barristan Selmy remained silent for a moment, his expression impassive, but finally inclined his head in understanding.
—I understand, Your Majesty —he murmured, though a hint of hesitation lingered in his voice.
Daenerys regarded him patiently.
—I understand your doubts, Ser Barristan, but when you meet my husband in person, you'll see there's nothing to fear.
The old knight didn't reply immediately, but his stance relaxed slightly. Daenerys didn't need him to believe in Vlad yet. He would, soon enough.
[Meanwhile, in the North.]
Edward Drakul wasn't going through the best time. Not that he complained about the task his lord had given him—follow Robb Stark and keep him alive without being noticed—but what truly made the job unbearable was that Robb Stark seemed like a complete fool. His mother, a hysteric, and his sisters… a nuisance he preferred not to remember. After all, he had never liked children.
He didn't understand why his lord was so insistent on keeping the Starks alive.
Surely anyone else could serve his interests better than the naïve King in the North. Just watching him break a political engagement out of infatuation for some woman from Volantis made Edward roll his eyes, but when Robb executed one of his most important bannermen, Rickard Karstark, for "honor," without caring about the consequences for the war, it became clear to him that the Starks weren't just honor-obsessed fools, but also prone to making decisions that guaranteed their own death.
That's why having to sneak into the Twins to intercept Robb Stark in his chambers and warn him one last time not to trust the Freys before violently intervening definitely did not make him happy. His lord had asked him to remain discreet, and having to disobey that because of Robb Stark's idiocy put him in a foul mood.
The night was cold at the Twins, the damp air seeping through the stone hallways as torches crackled in the distance. The Frey fortress was crowded with guests for the wedding of Edmure Tully and Roslin Frey, but none of them noticed the shadow slipping between the structures, moving like a ghost among the guards, silent and leaving no trace.
Edward Drakul moved through the corridors as if it were his own castle. His sharpened senses picked up every sound, every breath, every heartbeat in the fortress. He slipped through the shadows to the room assigned to Robb Stark, and without a sound, entered and hid in a corner near the fireplace.