Chapter 18: Noble's Plot
[Morning – Qarth palace – 299 AC]
The air within the Qartheen palace was stale and heavy with the scent of old money and faded ambition. The nobles, clad in their fine silken robes, glided through the marble halls like colorful, parasitic insects. Adam watched them from the shadows of a grand archway, his form cloaked in a subtle illusion. He had used a touch of his Disguise skill, not to change his appearance entirely, but to blur the edges of his figure, to make him seem like a fleeting shadow, a trick of the light. It was enough to make him unseen, unheard.
[SYSTEM ALERT: 15 STAMINA USED. 50 XP GAINED.]
He moved silently, his Witcher senses heightened, listening to the whispers and hushed conversations that flitted through the air. The nobles were like a beehive that had been kicked over; a storm of panicked, angry buzzing. They spoke of the new 'queen' and the 'White Wolf' who stood beside her, of how their carefully constructed world had been shattered in a single morning.
He found what he was looking for in a small, ornate courtyard, a trio of noblemen with faces like sour plums. They were huddled in a tight circle, their voices barely audible. He slipped closer, his shadow stretching and contracting with his movements, a silent predator.
"She will not rule us," one of them, a man with a gold-threaded beard, hissed. "The Pureborn have given their word. The beast-man will fall, and then the queen. Tonight."
Adam's lips thinned into a grim line. So, the old order had a plan. An assassination plot. A secret society, a symbol of their ancient rule. The Pureborn. He committed the faces of the three men to memory, their words a clear sign of their intent.
[SYSTEM ALERT: 50 XP GAINED.]
"Nobles and Viserys—same greedy trash." The thought was a bitter acid on his tongue. They were all the same. Entitled, arrogant, and so foolish they didn't realize the tide had already turned. They were relics, and he was the storm that would sweep them away.
He had to report this to Daenerys, but first, there was the matter of her brother. He saw Viserys in the main hall, pacing back and forth, a look of profound frustration on his face. He was berating a servant for a speck of dust on his sleeve. This was the perfect moment. Adam moved toward him, his presence still a blur to those who weren't looking for him.
He lifted his hand, a small, subtle flicker of Axii flowing from his fingertips.
[SYSTEM ALERT: 10 STAMINA USED. 50 XP GAINED.]
Viserys's pacing stopped. He turned to face Daenerys, who was talking with Ser Jorah. His scowl softened into a strange, pleading expression. "Sister," he said, his voice a strange, singsong whine. "I... I confess. All I want is their gold! All of this… it's all for the gold, isn't it?"
Daenerys stopped talking, her brow furrowed in confusion. Ser Jorah's hand went to the hilt of his sword. The nobles in the hall, who had been watching Viserys's outburst, now stared at him in slack-jawed silence.
"Nobles plotting? Predictable," Adam said, his voice a quiet murmur that only Daenerys could hear.
"You always find the truth," she said, her eyes meeting his. She understood. She always did. Viserys stood there, a strange, hollow look in his eyes, his confession a bomb dropped in the middle of a tense room.
[Noon – Qarth garden – 299 AC]
The midday sun was a merciless hammer on the camp. The dragons, lethargic in the heat, were spread out, their bodies creating great, shifting pools of shadow. Adam patrolled the perimeter, his senses alert. He could feel the growing presence of his own dragon, its mind a little more complex, a little more aware with each passing day. The bond, a gentle tugging at his consciousness, was a sign of its flourishing.
[SYSTEM ALERT: 100 XP GAINED.]
He paused by his alchemy kit, his fingers moving with practiced ease as he crafted a Black Blood potion. It was a simple concoction, but it was essential, a quick boost of health in the middle of a fight. He pulled out the necessary herbs and a flask of water, mixing them with a few drops of his own blood. The system hummed its approval.
[SYSTEM ALERT: BLACK BLOOD POTION CRAFTED. 150 GOLD USED. 50 XP GAINED.]
He saw a man in a white tokar, the very same man from the courtyard, approaching him, a glint of defiance in his eyes. The noble, a man named Pyat Pree, had a retinue of his own.
"You are the beast-man who stands beside our queen," the noble said, his voice dripping with condescension.
Adam didn't answer. He simply looked at the man. His gaze was steady, his expression unreadable. He reached into his satchel and pulled out a small, intricately carved wooden bird. He placed it on the ground and, in a flash of motion, vanished. Not entirely, but he used Shadow Trick to blur his form, to make himself seem like a fleeting wisp of smoke.
[SYSTEM ALERT: 15 STAMINA USED. 50 XP GAINED.]
He reappeared a few feet to the noble's left, his hand resting on his silver sword. The noble gasped, his eyes wide with fear. "That's not... sorcery," he stammered.
Adam just smiled. It wasn't about magic. It was about fear, about the psychological advantage.
"My dragons are safe with you," Daenerys said, her voice a calm balm as she approached, a few Unsullied at her back.
"And they'll stay that way," Adam said, his gaze never leaving the terrified noble. He was a weapon, and everyone needed to know it.
Tomas, standing at the edge of the Witcher circle, nodded. "We're your shield, My Lord."
[Evening – Qarth palace – 299 AC]
The air had cooled, but the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Adam had called a meeting with the three plotting nobles. Daenerys sat on her throne, her expression regal but cold. Viserys stood beside her, his face a sullen mask of fury and shame.
The noble with the gold-threaded beard, the one who had spoken of the Pureborn, stood before them, his chin held high. "My queen, we have come to petition you to restore our ancient rights. Your Unsullied are not our masters."
Adam stepped forward, his hand on the hilt of his sword. He didn't speak. He just stood there, a silent, menacing presence. The noble's eyes flickered to him, a flicker of fear in their depths.
"Nobles don't scare me," he said, his voice dangerously low. "I've faced worse. Much worse." He slammed his hand into the ground, and a shimmering Yrden sign bloomed around the three nobles, trapping them in a shimmering, magical circle.
[SYSTEM ALERT: 15 STAMINA USED. 100 XP GAINED.]
The nobles cried out, their faces contorted with fear. The guards at the back of the hall, loyal to the nobles, drew their swords. "Betray her, you burn," Adam snarled, and he was a blur of motion.
The first guard fell with a clean slit to his throat. The second, swinging a clumsy broadsword, found himself disarmed and then skewered through the chest. They were amateurs. Adam was a professional. He didn't waste movement, didn't hesitate. The sounds of steel on steel and the thud of bodies hitting the floor was the only music in the silence that followed.
[SYSTEM ALERT: 100 XP GAINED. "KILL 10 ENEMIES" QUEST PROGRESS: 350/500.]
"You're unstoppable," Daenerys said, her voice a whisper of awe.
Viserys, watching the whole thing, his face ashen, stumbled back. "This is madness!" he yelled.
Adam, with a casual flick of his wrist, activated Aard, a subtle push of air that caught the royal's chair and sent it toppling over. Viserys fell with an undignified thump. The guard in the circle, the one who had spoken of the Pureborn, looked at the prince's disgrace, and his face paled further. The symbol of their old world was nothing but a fool.
[SYSTEM ALERT: 10 STAMINA USED. 50 XP GAINED.]
[Night – Qarth inn – 299 AC]
The campfire was low, its embers glowing. Adam sat with Daenerys, a fresh map of Qarth between them. The day's events had solidified her power, but they had also created a new enemy.
"We need a plan for governance," Adam said, tracing a line on the map with a calloused finger. "We can't just leave them to chaos. The noble families will try to reclaim their power. We need a system, a new council, with freedmen in key positions."
[SYSTEM ALERT: 100 XP GAINED.]
"Qarth will bow to us," Daenerys said, her voice filled with a quiet confidence.
"With dragons and Witchers, they will," Adam replied, his gaze meeting hers. "We'll build it better than they ever did."
The sound of shuffling cards filled the small silence as Adam pulled out his Gwent deck, the familiar cards a welcome distraction. He dealt a hand, his fingers moving with a practiced ease.
[SYSTEM ALERT: GWENT CARD TRISS WON. 50 XP GAINED.]
Triss Merigold, the fiery sorceress. A good card to have. He would need a ruthless mind to deal with the problems to come. He tucked it into his deck. The game was secondary. The real game was just beginning.
He had one last task for the day. He saw Viserys, his face still red with humiliation, standing a little way off. He met Adam's eyes, a challenge in their depths. Adam didn't hesitate. He raised his hand, the tiniest, most subtle hint of Axii flowing from him.
[SYSTEM ALERT: 10 STAMINA USED. 50 XP GAINED.]
"I serve my sister!" Viserys declared, his voice echoing across the silent camp, as if he were a herald. He held his head high, a strange, proud look on his face, a look that was entirely out of place for a man who had been a royal pet just moments ago.
Daenerys looked at Adam, a silent question in her eyes. He just winked.
"He's a gold-hungry fool," Adam whispered, and Daenerys finally let out a soft laugh. The sound was like music. It was worth every bit of the effort.
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