Chapter 105: Illyrio's Mansion (Part 2)
"I am saddened by the misfortune your family has suffered," Illyrio said, withdrawing his gaze. "Allow me to welcome you on behalf of His Majesty, Viserys. Please, enjoy the feast." As he spoke, something seemed to click in his mind. "Speaking of which, why did you not come to me directly, instead of attending a banquet such as this?"
At the mention of this, Daeron, who had managed to suppress his indignation toward the Unsullied guards, could no longer hold back his anger. Hearing Illyrio broach the topic himself, he recounted the entire humiliating experience.
"Ah, yes. I did give such an order," Illyrio said, as if recalling something unpleasant. He looked quite helpless. "I do not know why, but some time ago, several wandering mercenaries began appearing, pretending to be nobles of Westeros. They quite exhausted my patience, so I gave the order. I must apologize for the coldness of my subordinates."
*What would happen if I told Illyrio about Talobane's slave ship?* The thought struck Ian suddenly. *I could simply explain that we only accepted the task to get an invitation. He would surely handle it himself.*
But that would ruin Talobane within Illyrio's organization. And after Illyrio learned the full story, would he begin to doubt Ian's own credibility?
"Sers, if you do not mind, you may each choose a horse from my stables later. How does that sound?" Just as Ian was wrestling with the thought, Illyrio took the initiative, proposing a plan of compensation.
The humble smile on his face could not conceal the arrogance in his tone. Illyrio clearly knew of the failure of Daeron's expedition in the Riverlands and the loss of his ship. At this moment, he held them in no high regard. His so-called apology was merely an attempt to dismiss two wandering knights with a horse apiece.
Seeing this, Ian completely abandoned the idea of mentioning the slave ship. Illyrio already despised him enough. If he admitted he couldn't even handle a minor dockside thug, he would leave the impression of being utterly useless. Once judged to have no value, asking Illyrio for an introduction to Viserys would be a fool's errand.
"Well, since you two are only attending this banquet out of necessity," Illyrio said, waving to a few servants, "you may leave at any time, if you wish. You will stay here for the time being; my servants will arrange rooms for you."
"Please, feel free to wander the house and the grounds. Treat it as your own home. If you require anything, do not hesitate to tell my maids. They will never say no." Illyrio gave a slight bow. "But you must forgive me for now. I will speak with you in detail later."
Without waiting for a response, Illyrio turned and rejoined the crowd of merchants. Today was, after all, a time for business.
Ian, of course, saw no reason to linger. He and Daeron followed the servants to their assigned rooms within the mansion.
In the center of the room was a massive feather mattress, so thick and soft that Ian sank into it the moment he sat down. He rolled twice across it with a childish grin, the feeling reminiscent of the beds from his past life. Then, smiling, he stood and walked to the window.
Golden sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting patterns on the Myrish carpet that covered the floor. Outside the window, a ring of cherry trees surrounded a marble pool. In the center of the pool stood the painted stone sculpture of an assassin.
The statue made Ian think of the players who had finished in the bottom three of the standings. Several days had passed since the first month's settlement. The assassins sent to kill them must have succeeded by now.
Closing his eyes, Ian logged into the auxiliary system and checked the emails he had missed the previous night.
[Settlement Report: Day 39. Current number of remaining players: 36]
The number was even lower than Ian had expected. It seemed that in addition to the three players at the bottom, there had been heavy casualties in the other bloodbaths across the world.
[Bounty Mission 2: 'Treasure Hunt' in Oldtown has been completed]
The deadly game in Oldtown had ended last night, but the treasure chests in Volantis and Yi Ti remained undiscovered. There were likely too few players in those regions, and at this stage, none of them could afford to purchase leads from the system. Judging by the mission's design, the probability of finding a chest without clues was practically zero.
After confirming there were no other messages, Ian logged out of the system and began to mentally review the words he had prepared for Illyrio's inevitable test.
Suddenly, he heard a girl's voice from behind him.
"Ser Ian," she said, her Common Tongue accented and a little hesitant. "Magister Illyrio has arranged for me to serve you."
Ian turned. She was a beautiful blonde girl with blue eyes and a slender figure, though she was full and round in all the right places.
"My lord," she said, "Magister Illyrio invites you to dine with him, but it will be some time yet."
"Are you a slave?" Ian asked, inexplicably recalling Talobane's description of the bed slaves of Yunkai.
"I was sold here to please the king." The girl did not answer directly. Instead, she reached out and began to untie Ian's belt. "Please, allow me to serve you."
Ian caught her small hand and shook his head. The timing, the environment—it was all wrong.
The blonde girl, however, clearly misunderstood his meaning. "If you prefer a boy, ser," she said quickly, "we will arrange one for you immediately."
Ian froze. He stared for a moment, then realized she thought him a man who preferred the company of men. He gave a wry smile and shook his head again.
This time, the girl was truly confused. In her worldview, it was absolutely unheard of for a young man under twenty to refuse such a service.
Seeing the shock on her face, Ian's mind cleared with a sudden, startling clarity. *This is Illyrio's test.* A man who could resist the lure of the flesh was not a man who could be easily controlled.
"I like to take the initiative," Ian said, his attitude shifting in an instant. He placed a hand on the girl's waist. "You were sold here to please the king. What does the king think of you?"
"That depends on your opinion, ser. Here, you are my king."
A moment later, a pair of delicate hands pushed him down, and his entire body sank into the soft feather mattress.
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