And…
After some unexpected rounds of acquaintancing, a feast had been laid out on a table... lavish even by the usual standards of Pentos.
Silver platters gleamed beneath candlelight, bearing roasted meats, sugared fruits, and delicacies drawn from both land and sea.
Servants drifted in silence, ever-attentive, as wine flowed freely and the air grew warm with spice and quiet tension.
At the head of the table... Prince Reggio Haratis maintained the careful composure expected of him, though his mind was far from at ease.
"The lamb hearts are excellent." He said at last, his tone measured, almost casual.
The lady guest inclined her head slightly, offering a polite smile. "We are fortunate to partake in the cook's masterpieces, Your Excellence..."
Reggio allowed himself a faint smile in return. "There is also a plum-cake yet to be served... one that may well have us fighting over the crumbs."
However, his fingers tapped lightly upon the table, drawing their attention. "But before we come to blows… a toast."
And so, cups were lifted.
"To Aegon the Conqueror..." Reggio declared, his voice carrying across the hall, eyeing the Targaryen seated across him. "Your exalted forebear... who joined our cause against Volantis in the Century of Blood."
He paused, letting the memory settle before continuing. "On the great dragon Balerion, he flew to our aid in Lys and burned a fleet of enemy ships, thus turning the tide."
With that, Daemon Targaryen was pleased, even raising his cup high to say. "Aegon the Conqueror!"
"To Aegon!" Many in the table echoed.
And then they drank to that.
But when the cups lowered, Reggio did not linger in nostalgia.
He leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharpening. "This brings me to some business. A proposal I wish to make... in the spirit of honoring our storied alliance."
To which, the Lady Mysaria's lips curved faintly with dry amusement. "If your aim is to have a daughter of yours marry our dear Baemon, Your Excellence, you should have just said so and spared us the history lesson."
"What…" Was what little Baemon yelped. Baffled confusion evident in his face.
Accordingly, a flicker of restrained humor passed through Reggio's expression. "I would not count a daughter of mine to be so deserving, Lady Mysaria."
Then he gestured subtly around them. "I wish instead to offer you a permanent residence here in Pentos."
"This manse I would gift to you outright... along with its farms and lands, the vineyard and the wood."
"The tenants would even pay their tributes annually to their new Targaryen lord."
"You would have your freedom of the city and the harbor... as befits your royal station." The Prince of Pentos listed.
Painting a great picture as he could with his words.
Which made the Rogue Prince of Westeros lean back so slightly… with a measured gaze to say. "Continue."
Prompting the Prince Reggio to incline his head, though the ease in his posture thinned. "As everybody knows… during the most recent Bronze Retaliation, the Triarchy has fallen and is now under Royce rule."
A brief silence followed... before he went on.
"Which proves to be quite unsettling to me as it is to many others. For who knows what the great and terrible Ronan Royce is about to do next."
"At any moment, he could continue his unstoppable conquest to Volantis... and in equal possibility, he could turn his sights north. To here. This City we call home."
Prompting his gaze to linger on Daemon Targaryen to add that. "Your family... complicated as it may be... is still related to the Bold Bronze."
A pause was then made, as the Pentoshi prince's tone turned a tad softer. "I know this is much to ask of you… but I implore you to help us in any way you could."
"As my simple aim is to protect Pentos from the potentially greedy eye of the Royces."
"Aid Pentos in this, Prince Daemon... as Aegon once did… and my gratitude will fill your cup and overflow it."
Then after a pause.... the weight of the request settled over the table.
But Mysaria answered first, her tone respectful but firm. "Your Excellence, we are travelers who are just hoping to see the broader world. We have already extended our visit here."
On the other hand... Daemon remained silent for a moment, his gaze steady on the Prince of Pentos.
Then in a calm and unreadable tone, he spoke.
"It is a most generous offer... and one we will certainly entertain."
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After that, the feast continued, but the air had shifted.
While little Baemon Waters was expectedly clueless as a child his age should be... the rest were reacting differently.
For what had begun as hospitality had turned into a kind of negotiation... and beneath it all, lingered heavy thoughts...
The Prince of Pentos was desperate for an option... and this was it.
The magisters and select advisers present in this feast were in full support of him.
And the Lady Mysaria was only aiming to earn her son a good match. And since Westeros did not accept them... a Pentoshi would have been fine.
It's just that the Prince and his cohorts put forth a more troubling intent. One that didn't align with what she had in mind.
Said with words that are quite taboo to her wedded husband.
Consequently... Prince Daemon was really just looking forward to traveling around... in hopes that he not hear any more praise or just about anything involving the Royces... for it grated and gutted him every time.
Alas, no place seemed far enough.
For even here, in Pentos, Ronan's shadow was still casting an ever-looming shade.