Illyrio's study was more substantial than Illyrio had imagined.
Dark walnut bookshelves filled an entire wall, laden with ancient, leather-bound books, some with yellowed and cracked spines.
In the center of the room stood a massive oak table, covered with a map of the continent of Westeros, on which the territories of various great houses were marked in red ink.
Illyrio walked to the table, picked up a silver flagon, poured himself a glass of amber-colored wine, and then gestured for a Servant to pour a glass for Viserys and Illyrio as well.
"Sit, all of you, sit." Illyrio leaned back in a large armchair, pointing to the chairs around the table. "We need to discuss the wedding details thoroughly, as well as the customs of the Dothraki—if we offend them, not only will we fail to secure their troops, but we might not even leave Pentos alive."
Viserys plopped into a chair, took the wine glass, and drained it in one gulp, his tone still impatient: "What's there to discuss? Isn't it just Daenerys marrying that barbarian? As long as he's willing to send troops, we can just muddle through with the customs."
"We cannot muddle through." Illyrio shook his head, put down his wine glass, and traced the Dothraki Sea region on the map with his finger. "The Dothraki value honor and tradition above all else.
Drogo is their strongest Khal; his wedding must conform to their customs, or his Blood Riders will feel insulted and might even turn against us."
Daenerys stood by the table, clutching her skirt tightly, her face paler than it had been in the corridor.
Illyrio noticed this and quietly moved closer to her, whispering in a voice only they could hear: "Don't be afraid; listen to Illyrio, and I'll help you remember the key rules."
Daenerys nodded slightly, a hint of reliance in her eyes.
Illyrio cleared his throat and began to explain: "First, the wedding must be held in the Dothraki 'Khalasar' (tribal camp); Drogo will bring his Blood Riders and core tribesmen.
On the wedding day, Daenerys must wear Dothraki women's clothing—leather jerkin and trousers; she cannot wear silk, as they would see that as a sign of weakness."
Viserys frowned: "Make Daenerys wear such crude clothes? No! She is a Targaryen princess, how can she..."
"Viserys!" Illyrio quickly interrupted him. "The Dothraki consider leather a symbol of a warrior.
For Daenerys to wear leather is to show Drogo that she 'is willing to integrate into his tribe,' which is how she will earn his respect.
If she insists on wearing silk, Drogo will think Daenerys looks down on his people, and the marriage alliance might fall through."
He deliberately emphasized "marriage alliance might fall through," precisely hitting Viserys's most sensitive point.
Viserys indeed said no more, only letting out a resentful hmph.
Illyrio gave Illyrio an approving look and continued: "Second, there will be a 'gift-giving' segment at the wedding.
Drogo will give Daenerys a gift, usually a weapon or a horse; Daenerys must also return a gift, preferably something that reflects her Targaryen identity—such as a piece of fabric embroidered with a dragon-sigil, or an exquisitely decorated dagger."
"I have something!" Illyrio immediately interjected. "My mother left behind a linen shawl embroidered with a dragon-sigil; I'll go retrieve it tomorrow for the Princess as a return gift."
He took the opportunity to bring up the matter of "retrieving the shawl," which both solved the gift problem and provided a legitimate reason to leave the estate without arousing the guards' suspicion.
Illyrio nodded: "Very good, that shawl is perfect.
Finally, after the wedding, Drogo will take Daenerys back to the Khalasar for half a month, and then lead his cavalry south—this is a Dothraki 'wedding custom' and must be observed."
Daenerys's body trembled slightly—she was clearly afraid of leaving a familiar place to face the unfamiliar Dothraki tribe.
Illyrio quietly touched her arm and whispered: "Don't be afraid; I'll find a way to follow you to the Khalasar; you won't face it alone."
"You're going too?" Daenerys's eyes widened. "But... Viserys wouldn't agree, would he?"
"I'll convince him." Illyrio's tone was firm.
Just then, a faint sound of footsteps came from outside the study door, followed by a Servant's low report: "Lord Illyrio, there's a merchant outside who says he's delivered new spices for you.
Would you like to see him?"
Illyrio frowned: "I didn't order any spices... Tell him to leave the goods at the door; we'll deal with it tomorrow."
"Yes." The Servant responded, and his footsteps gradually faded away.
Illyrio's heart stirred—that Servant was the same Servant in black robes who had been watching them by the staircase earlier!
He immediately stood up: "Lord Illyrio, I'll go take a look.
What if there are fragile items in the spices? It's not safe to leave them at the door."
Without waiting for Illyrio's response, he quickly walked out of the study.
The corridor was empty.
The Servant in black robes was carrying a bag of spices and walking towards the door, his steps hurried.
Illyrio quietly followed him, watching him leave the main building and go around to the side door of the estate.
Outside the side door stood a person in a gray cloak, the same person who had been watching them in the market!
The Servant in black robes handed the bag of spices to the person in the gray cloak, whispered a few words, and then quickly returned to the estate.
The person in the gray cloak took the bag and turned to walk in the direction of the slums.
"It's a Lannister spy after all!" Illyrio clenched his fist—that bag of spices must contain intelligence about the marriage alliance, to be transmitted to the Lannister outpost in Pentos.
He did not immediately pursue him but instead noted the gray-cloaked person's route and then returned to the study.
"How was it? No problem with the spices?" Illyrio asked.
"No problem; I had the Servant put them in the kitchen." Illyrio concealed the matter of the spy—it wasn't the right time to expose it yet; he needed to first confirm the Lannister's objectives before formulating a counter-strategy.
The negotiations continued for an hour, until the sun had completely set, before all the details were finalized.
Viserys impatiently returned to his room to rest, and Daenerys also followed the housekeeper back to her room.
Illyrio did not return to his room but waited for Daenerys in the corridor.
Not long after, Daenerys's door opened.
She saw Illyrio and immediately walked over: "Why aren't you resting yet?"
"I have something to tell you." Illyrio pulled her into the corner of the corridor. "That Servant who delivered the spices just now is a Lannister spy; he passed on intelligence about the marriage alliance to someone outside."
Daenerys's eyes widened: "Lannister? What do they want?"
"I don't know, but it's certainly nothing good." Illyrio said, "Tomorrow I'm going to the slums to retrieve the shawl and also to investigate the whereabouts of that gray-cloaked person to see where their outpost is.
You need to be careful at home; don't talk to that Servant in black robes alone, and tell me immediately if anything happens."
Daenerys nodded: "I understand.
And... about going to the Khalasar, can you really come with me?"
"Yes." Illyrio pulled out the bunch of dried lavender from his pocket and handed it to her. "Take this with you, just like in the market; when you smell the scent, think of me—I will definitely find you.
Also, tonight you can ask the kitchen to make you some honey tea and get some rest early, so you'll be energized for tomorrow's preparations."
Daenerys took the lavender, hugging it tightly to her chest, her eyes a little red: "Thank you, Illyrio.
If it weren't for you, I really wouldn't know what to do."
"We are family; I will protect you." Illyrio gently patted her shoulder. "Go back to your room quickly; don't let Viserys find out."
Daenerys turned to go back to her room, and as she closed the door, she looked back at Illyrio again, her eyes full of gratitude.
Illyrio watched her door close, secretly calculating: Tomorrow, going to the slums, he had to retrieve the shawl, investigate the Lannister spy, and avoid the surveillance of the estate guards—this trip would certainly not be easy.
But he had no retreat; for Daenerys, and to change the fate of the original story, he had to take the risk.
Back in his guest room, Illyrio did not sleep but instead sat at the desk, writing down key points of Dothraki customs: wear leather clothes, return the gift with a dragon-sigil shawl, do not fear the Blood Riders, and learn a few simple Dothraki words ("thank you," "hello," "please").
He folded the note, preparing to give it to Daenerys tomorrow.
The moon outside rose, casting light through the window onto the desk.
Illyrio touched the dragon-sigil necklace under his collar and then looked at the note on the table, his heart filled with determination.
Tomorrow was both the day to retrieve the shawl and the day to investigate the crisis; Daenerys's wedding was in three days.
He had to make all preparations in these few days to ensure Daenerys could safely get through the wedding and successfully reach an agreement with Drogo—this was the first step in the Targaryen restoration, and also the key to him establishing himself in this world