It did not take long.
Whispers came first. A rustle through the alleys, eyes a little too bold in the markets, the sudden quiet in taverns when an Unsullied entered. Meereen, so recently brought to heel, now watched us with a new emotion — fear.
Not awe. Not respect. Fear.
"They're saying you've become a tyrant," Missandei murmured as we crossed the courtyard of the Great Pyramid.
"They're saying I've fed innocent men to dragons," I replied calmly.
"And the difference?" Daenerys asked beside me. Her tone was clipped.
I paused. "Innocent men don't tremble when you mention dragons. They look you in the eye."
She didn't respond. She'd been quiet all morning.
I could feel it brewing beneath her skin. She hated it — the executions, the whispers, the way I'd taken control of the court. But more than that, she hated how right it had all been.
"You overstepped," she finally said once we were inside, away from the eyes and ears.
"No," I said. "I stepped where you hesitated."
"You used my court to make a display."
"I used it to send a message. One that kept the rest in line."
Her voice rose. "You made me look cruel."
"You're not cruel. But if they think you are? Then they'll think twice before spitting at your feet."
Daenerys turned away from me, fingers clenched tight around the edge of the council table. I waited. She was angry, yes — but more than that, she was scared.
And she had every reason to be.
By evening, Grey Worm and Jorah brought word of unrest. Nothing violent yet, but something beneath the surface.
"They call themselves 'Sons of the Harpy,'" Grey Worm said. "Masked. Hidden. Organized."
"They slit the throat of one of the freedmen near the old slave pens," Jorah added. "Left a coin in his mouth."
"Golden coin?" I asked.
He nodded.
"I've seen this before," I said. "It's not protest. It's ritual."
"They're trying to make you look like a foreign tyrant," Barristan said to Daenerys. "They'll say you're feeding citizens to beasts. That you rule by fear."
"She doesn't rule by fear," I said sharply.
Barristan's brow arched. "The dragons don't kill softly."
Silence fell.
Daenerys dismissed them all with a wave. The room cleared slowly, leaving only the two of us.
"You've always known more than you should," she said quietly.
"I know enough to tell when someone is trying to unseat you from within."
I placed a small leather pouch on the table and opened it. Inside were coins — the same kind found in the dead freedman's mouth — and a ring, broken in half.
"Taken from a captured spy near the sewers," I said. "He wore the sigil of Yunkai beneath his tunic. They've been funding the Sons since before the executions."
She stared at the ring, then up at me.
"I didn't order death for the sake of fear," I continued. "I did it because the enemy already moved. All I did was show them we don't flinch."
Her shoulders slumped slightly. "I... I didn't know."
"You weren't meant to."
She stepped closer, her eyes glistening now — not with tears, but with anger at herself. "I said things I shouldn't have."
"I know."
"I accused you."
"You're allowed."
She looked up at me, searching.
"I'm not angry," I said. "But I'm not apologizing either."
That did it.
She pulled me in.
Later, we lay tangled beneath the soft sheets in her chamber, the heat of the argument cooled by the heat of our bodies.
"I hate fighting with you," she murmured against my collarbone.
"Then don't," I replied, kissing her temple.
She laughed softly. "You're impossible."
We held each other in the candlelight until neither of us could keep our eyes open.
The next morning, Daenerys announced the reopening of the fighting pits.
The court was surprised, the people even more so.
But she stood tall.
"There will be no games of spectacle," she said. "No slaves made to fight for sport. These pits will serve a new purpose: justice."
Whispers spread instantly. Justice? In the fighting pits?
I stood beside her and clarified. "Those who would poison our city, who plot behind masks, will face their end beneath the open sky. And the dragons will eat well."
The Unsullied and the freedmen nodded.
It was time the Sons learned we were watching.
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