"A man who lives up to his reputation is a rare thing."
— Olenna Tyrell
…
Year 290 AC.
Essos. Ghaen Isle. New Ghis.
"Welcome to New Ghis, Lord Viserys Targaryen." A young red-haired man smiled, bowing low.
"Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Grazdan mo Lorkhaz." I smiled, inclining my head in return, though my bow was noticeably less deep.
He who is lower in status makes a correspondingly lower bow. This was the custom in Old Ghis, a once-mighty empire, and it is the custom here, in New Ghis. Grazdan was the son of the most powerful aristocrat of this Ghiscari city, Brezdan mo Lorkhaz. Thus, the meeting on the pier was, in fact, between the head of House Targaryen and the heir of House Lorkhaz.
"My people will assist your subordinates with the port authorities. Houses and barracks have already been rented in the city for your sailors and soldiers. For you, I offer a place to rest in the Lorkhaz family pyramid," Grazdan said, continuing to smile warmly.
"I gladly accept your offer. Do you mind if my friend accompanies us?" I glanced at the Captain standing next to me, who was trying to suppress a smile.
"Of course not. My house is your house," the heir of the Lorkhaz family replied good-naturedly.
We proceeded to a large palanquin standing nearby, covered with green fabric with bright yellow silk inserts. Once we were all three in the semi-darkness of the palanquin, the Praetorians coordinated their actions with Grazdan's guards, and the slaves hoisted the thick poles, lifting the conveyance off the ground. Zirarro was the first to speak.
"Ha! These cushions are softer than the breasts of the most expensive women in Lys." Making himself comfortable on the small sofa, the Captain picked up a clay bottle and began filling the glasses nearby with amber liquid.
"Of course. These aren't your ship bunks; respected people travel on this palanquin." Grazdan scoffed, taking his portion of Summer Isles wine.
"Of course, of course, like Viserys and me." Zirarro nodded in agreement, taking a satisfied sip from the clay vessel.
"Pay him no mind, Grazdan, he hasn't quite recovered from the news you gave him during our last meeting," I chuckled, also enjoying the pleasant taste of the drink.
"Ah, I see! Well, well, my friend. Don't worry so much; perhaps by the end of your life, you too will have three wives and fifteen concubines," Grazdan said sympathetically, which made Zirarro grimace as if his favorite callus had been torn off.
Why are we on such familiar terms with the son of New Ghis's wealthiest aristocrat? The fact is that we have known each other for several years and have met about five times already.
As soon as the final decision was made to follow the path of the canonical Daenerys and conquer Slaver's Bay, I began to look for allies. And they turned out not to be so difficult to find. Aristocrats often want more for themselves and their House: fame, money, influence, power. It doesn't matter exactly what; the important thing is knowing how to use it. Through Zirarro na Zakloz, it was easy to reach his cousin's uncle, the head of House Zakloz. Negotiations were quite difficult, both because of mutual distrust and because of the generally negative attitude of the Ghiscari toward Valyrians.
But in the end, one of the Great Masters of Meereen took my side. And with such inside support, I managed to secure the help of two more Meereenese Masters, one noble family from Yunkai, and three Good Masters of Astapor.
All these noble families shared one trait: unsatisfied ambition. These were weakened Houses that, while significantly surpassing all the minor slave traders and merchants in wealth, connections, and power, were themselves weak and poor compared to the other Masters. So, in the end, they agreed to the adventurous plan I proposed, provided that the first part, the conquest of Astapor, succeeded.
The Lorkhaz family was different. Although New Ghis was smaller than Astapor, Yunkai, and Meereen, it rightfully called itself the heir to the Ghiscari Empire. Located on the trade route leading from the Yi Ti Empire to the Seven Kingdoms, this city was wealthy and powerful. Thousands of slaves daily arrived at and departed from the ports of New Ghis on galleys. Ships from the Summer Isles brought precious stones, spices, and rare woods. Excellent iron, wine, gold, and silver arrived from Westeros. Merchants from Qarth brought YiTish silk, porcelain, and perfumes. In short, trade was vigorous and profitable.
And the Lorkhaz family had grown considerably rich over the last hundred years, having kinship ties with the Lords of Dorne and the Reach, and having concluded several successful betrothals with YiTish aristocrats. All this led to one of the fifteen aristocratic families of New Ghis breaking away from the general mass and gaining more and more influence. This greatly displeased the other Bountiful Masters of New Ghis.
Because of this, over the last decade, a quarter of the entire Lorkhaz House had been poisoned and murdered, and their businesses constantly suffered attacks from ill-wishers. The Lorkhaz countered their competitors in kind, but this could not continue. Fourteen against one was a terribly poor arrangement.
So, House Lorkhaz also joined the coalition secretly gathering under my leadership. In exchange, they will receive New Ghis as their personal fiefdom after the victory. The aristocrats of Astapor, Meereen, and Yunkai voiced a similar desire. In general, the noble lords decided it would be easier to swear allegiance to one House, but in doing so, gain far more than they currently possessed.
However, I did not inform them of two small nuances. First, most of their competitors would survive and, after paying relatively small fines, would move to neighboring cities. Second, I have a dragon, who, in four months, has grown to the size of a knight's warhorse.
I had no intention of fostering feudal anarchy. And for that, there must be healthy competition among the nobility of the future state. And the monarch will occasionally intervene in this matter, putting particularly presumptuous nobles in their place. Avero will assist me perfectly in this. Centralization is one of the most important features of a strong state.
"My father is greatly anticipating this. News has already arrived from Astapor that the Burning Legion has set up camp near the city walls. The Good Masters were initially very concerned about such an unexpected visit." We all shared a laugh at this. "But upon learning that Viserys Targaryen will soon arrive in the city to purchase all the Unsullied available, they all suddenly became quite agreeable. Not every generation can one conclude such a profitable deal, selling fifteen thousand warriors at once for hard gold and silver," the young man concluded his speech.
Glancing at the short, fiery-red beard of my companion, I sighed wearily. I had recently turned fifteen. And although I was already as tall as a grown man, only peach fuzz grew on my cheeks, which I shaved with particular diligence.
But more than my still-adolescent body, I was worried about one specific person. I had already noticed that Grazdan was dressed in the Dornish fashion, albeit adhering to his House colors, green and yellow. And this could only mean that one cunning Dornishman was already here. The Hells! Although Oberyn Martell is a wonderful conversationalist, drinking companion, and sparring partner, I absolutely do not wish to discuss politics with him. But I will have to.
I need Dorne in the fight for the Iron Throne. But I was not very keen on marrying Arianne Martell, Doran Martell's daughter. The girl, according to reports from Veela's spies, was beautiful, smart, cunning, and power-hungry, which are excellent traits for a potential ruler's spouse. But there is one caveat. Dorne is not valuable or promising enough to warrant a betrothal. I am more inclined toward the Tyrells in this regard. Though the Dornishmen do not need to know this.
Half an hour later, having managed to discuss ships, weapons, and women, we reached the base of the Lorkhaz family pyramid. A majestic structure, clad in some kind of yellow stone and topped with a gilded finial that glittered in the sun's rays.
Fortunately, we did not have to climb the numerous steps; such a respected family had a mechanical lift in their home. Beautiful maidservants, shooting interested glances from beneath veiled lids, escorted us to the guest chambers. I and my men were allocated an entire floor, with our own staff of servants, cooks, and a guard detail of Unsullied, whom the Praetorians eyed suspiciously.
"My father has organized a grand feast in honor of the arrival of such important guests. All the important members of my family and representatives of our friends from other Ghiscari cities will be present. Also joining us will be Prince Oberyn Martell and Lord Tommen Costayne with his son, Owen," Grazdan informed me, adjusting his long, curly hair.
"The Costaynes? They are vassals of the Hightowers, the strongest House in the Reach after the Tyrells. I don't need the Seven Kingdoms to know more than what they learn through rumors just yet." I looked at the red-haired man with confusion.
I don't think the Lorkhaz would risk setting me up. They have no benefit from it. But why invite the lords of the Three Towers to the feast?
"Don't worry, my friend, what should remain in the shadows will not see the light of day. Tommen Costayne's maternal grandmother is my cousin's grandmother. Currently, negotiations are underway for the betrothal of my cousin, Galazzy, to the heir of the Three Towers, Owen. But my father is delaying them for now, awaiting the imminent change in our House's status." Grazdan smiled, glancing at me shrewdly.
Taking the new information into account, I bowed to my companion, agreeing to talk at the reception.
The apartments made a great impression even on me, a person already quite accustomed to luxury. All the walls, made of yellowish brick, were covered with intricate floral patterns. Opposite the large four-poster bed with a yellow canopy, hung a painting made of amber and supplemented with other precious stones. A huge oak tree with leaves made of emeralds and a girl sitting beneath it, shyly casting a glance of sapphire eyes at the viewers, looked very picturesque. Considering that amber is only sourced from the Summer Isles and the North, and that it costs an insane amount of money, one could buy a couple of galleys for this painting alone.
I never found the golden toilets, though I searched very thoroughly, but I did notice a swimming pool lined with pink marble and a bathtub made of silver. I won't even mention the floors covered with rugs so skillfully patterned that they were fit to be hung as tapestries in a throne room.
After exploring my new residence for the next ten days, I dismissed the servants and, undressing, began to wash in the ready bath.
Since I soaked for about an hour, I immediately began to get ready after the water treatment. I had become somewhat unaccustomed to servants during the campaign with the legion, and even more so during the long voyage. Even before, I only used them sparingly, for the sake of maintaining status. But so as not to offend the gracious hosts, and not to portray myself as a bumpkin, I called a couple of girls, ordering them to help with my festive attire.
I chose my clothes for today's event with due consideration. Although I didn't particularly like etiquette, and it was rarely required when dealing with knights and soldiers, knowing it was mandatory. I chose the colors to match my origin, black and red, used on the Targaryen coat of arms.
Since the feast was taking place on Ghiscari soil, I chose a style popular in Essos. But at the same time, I shouldn't forget that I was, after all, a Prince of the deposed dynasty of the Seven Kingdoms, so a compromise was needed. And in my humble opinion, I managed to maintain the balance.
A scarlet silk shirt, with a ruha over it. The ruha is the outer garment of noble Ghiscari. It is a cross between a kimono jacket and a short robe. Wide sleeves that narrow towards the forearm, a black belt embroidered with red threads, and a large V-shaped cut-out on the chest. I chose trousers made of expensive materials, according to Westerosi traditions. That is, in fact, ordinary trousers, made of well-ventilated materials due to the climate, and of course, black to match the ruha.
I took a sword of Valyrian steel, with not particularly decorated scabbards. The pommel was shaped like a dragon's head, the guard was classically unadorned; if you didn't look closely, it was just an ordinary, slightly short, hand-and-a-half sword. But considering the audience, no one there would be fooled by the object's ostensible simplicity.
I originally wanted to hang a second, paired blade on the adjacent hip, but then I considered it foolish. Yes, considering that the sorcerous steel cuts ordinary weapon-iron without problems, a warrior with twin blades no longer seems like utter nonsense. Especially with armor made of the same extremely durable material. But I am going to a peaceful social reception, not aggressive negotiations. Therefore, the place of the second sword was taken by a dagger, also of Valyrian steel.
For jewelry, I only put on a couple of thin rings with a pleasing pattern and a silver chain from which hung a simple pendant with a minimalistic dragon face.
By the way, my dragon, Avero, was currently flying somewhere in the mountainous part of the island, hunting wild goats. Through the magical bond, which has grown stronger lately, I sent him portions of magical energy and occasionally checked on his well-being. In response, only the satisfied feeling of a full predator and a request for a new magical boost came back.
Looking at myself in the small mirror, I hummed contentedly. The maidservants had tidied my hair according to my wishes. Now, the mirror reflected a tall young man, with sharp cheekbones, the lean physique of an athlete, dark violet eyes, and a faint, slightly ironic smile. My temples and the back of my head were smoothly shaved, and my long hair, reaching my shoulder blades, was braided into an intricate plait.
"You are magnificent, young master." Both maidservants bowed low.
"That's from another story." I snorted, imagining myself in the place of some anime isekai protagonist with cute maids.
"Pardon me? If we did something wrong, then..." Her partner began nervously, but I interrupted the visibly anxious girl.
"Nothing terrible, those are just my eccentricities. I am very satisfied with your work." I reassured the maidservants with a good-natured smile.
"By the way, after the feast, I will need to take off all these clothes, and then take a bath. But these receptions are so exhausting..."
"We will certainly assist you with that, young master." Clearly understanding the hint and blushing slightly, the maidservants exchanged glances and bowed once more.
And no, there was no hint of coercion here. Brezdan mo Lorkhaz would not send some slaves or low-born peasant girls to serve a very important guest. Most likely, these twenty-year-old girls were either very distant poor relatives or the daughters of some vassal of House Lorkhaz. For example, the Captain of the Guard or a successful and useful merchant from a less noble House sworn to the wealthiest House in New Ghis. The Ghiscari had clans rather than Houses, like in the Seven Kingdoms. The most powerful and ancient family was served by smaller Houses, and those, in turn, by even smaller ones. Something like the family corporations of Japan and South Korea. After all, the aristocracy here is more mercantile than military, with its own peculiarities.
Why are these two girls, whom I was subtly offered as personal maidservants for my stay in New Ghis, relevant? It's simple. The strongest alliances here are cemented by marriage. But there is a nuance.
I am a Targaryen, and if I want to claim the throne of the Seven Kingdoms, I must marry a girl from Westeros. Yes, I can take another wife, though it is not welcomed by the Faith of the Seven, but... I am, so to speak, playing for a different party. Nevertheless, for legitimacy, the first wife must be from a very noble Westerosi family. Moreover, the main branch of the Lorkhaz does not have a suitable match for me; Grazdan only has a younger brother, and offering my future liege a girl from a cadet branch of the House or from their vassals is not a good idea. Therefore, Brezdan mo Lorkhaz, the cunning fox, assigned these two attractive red-haired girls to me, subtly offering me to take the pretty girls as concubines.
And this arrangement suited me perfectly. Yes, Veela and her spies will have to check the loyalty and reliability of these girls several times, but it is worth it. After all, I should stop frequenting brothels; it can become a stain on my reputation. And here is such a good solution. I will please one of my future vassals, a very useful and strong one, and benefit myself. By the way, the girls also benefit from this. I do not intend to take many mistresses, so they will, in effect, be my junior wives. And I will certainly provide for all my children. The heir will, of course, be the eldest son of my lawful wife, but the other offspring will be acknowledged and also put to work. I need to increase the Targaryen population; too few of us remain.
After examining myself from head to toe once more, I nodded contentedly and headed toward the exit. My first serious public appearance awaited me. The little ship of my interests was already preparing to navigate the reefs and undercurrents of the desires of seasoned dealers.
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