Viserys's face wore a twisted expression of manic frenzy mixed with ecstasy.
"I agree! Of course I agree!"
He practically screamed the words.
Spittle sprayed onto Magister Illyrio's oily face.
As if screaming loud enough would make the Iron Throne, forged of blood and bones, fall from the sky the next second.
As if all he had to do was lift his backside, and the Seven Kingdoms would be his.
He grabbed Lynn's hand, greedy flames burning in his pale violet eyes.
"Daenerys is yours!"
"You are my most trusted friend!"
"From today on, Daenerys is your wife!"
"When do you return? Tomorrow? Or now?"
"No, let's leave now! Kill our way back to Westeros!"
Lynn subtly withdrew his hand.
He didn't even bother to give this Beggar King, whose mind was swept away by dreams of power, another glance.
His gaze landed on Daenerys.
The girl's body was trembling slightly.
The blood had drained from her small face, beautiful beyond mortal measure, leaving it pale as the first snow of the North.
It was happening again.
She was being treated as goods again, an item to be exchanged for an army and a throne.
Traded away without hesitation by her only family, her brother.
Her clear violet eyes misted over, filled with humiliation and sorrow.
But this time, deep within that sorrow, was there a trace of expectation even she hadn't noticed?
Because the person she was being traded to was him.
The Prince who had appeared countless times in her dreams.
Riding a three-headed ice dragon, coming from the Lands of Always Winter.
He was her Prince.
Looking at her on the verge of tears, Lynn felt a sudden softness in his heart. Daenerys had suffered too much.
"King Viserys."
Lynn's voice wasn't loud, but it instantly silenced the manic Viserys.
"I believe I need to speak with Daenerys alone."
Viserys paused, then a fawning smile piled onto his face.
"Of course! Of course! You need to... deepen your affection!"
He strode quickly to Daenerys.
Then, lowering his voice, he spoke in a warning tone.
"Dany, listen. This is our last chance."
"Please him. Satisfy him. Do you understand?"
"Don't be like last time, angering the Horse Lord!"
"If you dare ruin this, I swear, you will know the meaning of 'waking the dragon'!"
With that, he dragged the still-dazed Illyrio toward the wine cellar deep in the mansion, beaming with joy.
He couldn't wait to use the Magister's treasured vintages to celebrate his imminent victory.
On the terrace, only Lynn and Daenerys remained.
The sea breeze blew, carrying the scent of salt.
The atmosphere stagnated for a moment.
Daenerys kept her head down, hands nervously twisting her dress, afraid to meet Lynn's eyes.
"Your brother sold you again."
Lynn's voice sounded calmly.
Daenerys's body trembled violently.
The forcefully suppressed tears finally spilled from the corners of her eyes.
She didn't cry out loud, just bit her lip hard.
"He treats you as a chip to trade for an army, just like he tried to sell you to Khal Drogo."
Lynn walked up to her step by step, his tall figure enveloping her completely.
He offered no comforting words, simply stating facts, ripping open the scars she was most unwilling to face.
Daenerys's shoulders began to shake, the suppressed sobs finally uncontrollable.
She thought Lynn would be like all men, starting to boast of his army, his wealth.
And his dragon capable of destroying cities.
Then telling her that becoming his woman was her supreme honor.
But Lynn's next words completely stunned her.
"Are you willing?"
Lynn asked.
Daenerys looked up sharply.
Disbelief was written in her tear-filled violet eyes.
He's... asking my opinion?
"I..."
Daenerys opened her mouth.
But found her throat blocked, unable to make a sound.
All her life, she had obeyed.
Obeyed her brother's commands, obeyed Illyrio's arrangements.
No one had ever asked her like Lynn did.
Are you willing?
Seeing her bewildered look, Lynn reached out, gently wiping away the tears on her cheek with his fingertips.
His fingertips were slightly cool, causing her to shiver involuntarily against her hot skin.
"Look at me, Dany."
Daenerys subconsciously looked up into those pitch-black, deep eyes.
Those eyes were identical to the ones in her dreams.
Cold, aloof, seemingly containing the eternal night of the North.
Yet hiding a flame she couldn't understand deep within that coldness.
"Tell me your answer."
Lynn gazed at her.
"This time, you don't need to think about your brother. You are no longer a Targaryen princess, nor Stormborn."
"You are just you, Daenerys herself."
"Are you willing to marry me?"
Boom—
Daenerys felt her mind go blank instantly.
The prophecy buried deep in her soul exploded again!
This is it!
This is him!
This is her Prince!
He didn't care about the Targaryen name, nor any bullshit alliance.
He cared only about her.
Her herself!
An unprecedented courage surged from her battered heart.
Courage enough to melt ice and snow, enough to defy the whole world!
"I am willing."
Her voice even carried a trace of tears, but it was as firm as Valyrian steel.
She stood on tiptoe, closed her eyes.
Using all her strength, she pressed her cold, soft lips against Lynn's.
Lynn froze.
He could feel the raw kiss, filled with grievance, expectation, adoration, faith...
The kiss was clumsy and brief.
When Daenerys pulled away, blushing and panting, her violet eyes shone brighter than the brightest stars in the Pentos night sky.
"I am willing."
She repeated.
A smile blossomed on her face, one that had never been there before, enough to outshine a hundred flowers.
This time, it wasn't for House Targaryen.
Not for the Iron Throne.
Just for him.
Looking at the girl who seemed to have completed a transformation in an instant, a ripple stirred in Lynn's heart too.
Lynn reached out, gently pulling her into his arms.
The girl was very thin; even through the silk dress, he could feel her slender bones.
Her body was trembling slightly, yet she hugged him back tightly as if finding the safest harbor.
"Before, I always dreamed."
Daenerys buried her face in his chest, her voice muffled.
"Dreamed of a giant ice dragon, and a snowfield that never melted."
"I thought it was just a dream."
"Now I know, it wasn't a dream."
She looked up, gazing entranced at Lynn's face.
Those violet eyes, like the night sky washed by rain, were astonishingly bright.
"That was you calling to me."
Lynn didn't speak, just listened quietly.
He could clearly feel it.
The seed he had casually buried deep in her soul back then had grown into an unshakable, towering tree in the girl's heart.
The effect was a bit too good.
It seemed the Three-Eyed Raven was right.
Daenerys pressed her cheek against Lynn's chest, feeling the steady, powerful heartbeat, as if it were the most beautiful music in the world.
"Will... will you really marry me?"
She asked softly, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
"Not because of the Targaryen name, not to ally with my brother?"
Lynn looked down at the little creature in his arms still seeking confirmation, amused.
He lifted her chin, making her look into his eyes.
"I said, I am marrying Daenerys."
He leaned close to her ear, speaking in a voice only the two of them could hear.
"As for your brother... a King who would trade his own sister, do you think he is fit to be my ally?"
Daenerys's body stiffened.
Lynn's words pierced straight into her softest spot.
But this time, she felt no pain, but rather an unprecedented relief.
"He... he just wants to go home too badly."
She subconsciously defended Viserys, but her voice couldn't even convince herself.
"There are many ways to go home."
Lynn let go of her.
"But selling your sister is definitely not one of them."
---
In the wine cellar.
Viserys downed a goblet of golden Arbor gold in one gulp, a sickly flush on his face.
"Illyrio! My friend! Best friend!"
He slapped the Magister's fat back hard.
"When I take back the Iron Throne, I'll make you Master of Coin!"
"No! I'll build you a new castle! Right under King's Landing, right next to me!"
"I want you to be the richest Lord in the Seven Kingdoms!"
Illyrio's face was piled with smiles, but his eyes were filled with calm calculation.
He had already begun to calculate.
Exactly how many ships and provisions would he need to prepare for this army of a hundred thousand?
And how much profit would he extract from this high-return investment?
But Lynn seemed not so simple.
Powerful, hard to fool. Illyrio felt he should be cautious.
Lest he anger Lynn and force him to find other allies.
Viserys was getting drunk.
Pushing away the slave girl trying to refill his cup, he staggered out of the wine cellar.
He wanted to see how his best ally and his "obedient" sister were progressing in their affection.
When he reached the courtyard, he saw it.
On the terrace facing the sea.
His sister, Daenerys, was being held in the arms of the man named Lynn.
The sea breeze blew her silver-gold hair. Her face wore a tranquility and happiness Viserys had never seen, coming from the heart.
In that instant, an indescribable sourness and rage surged from the bottom of Viserys's heart.
What was that expression?
The girl who had only ever followed behind him like a puppy begging for attention since childhood.
What right did she have to show that expression?
Everything she had, he gave her!
Her life, her beauty, even her identity as a Targaryen princess!
Even the mission of every Targaryen woman was to breed heirs for her brother!
How dare she?
Now, he had merely "awarded" Daenerys to that man.
Why did she look happier than when she was with him?
A violent feeling of having his precious toy stolen by someone else instantly occupied his brain.
Viserys clenched his fists tightly.
No.
That's not right.
He shook his head quickly, forcefully suppressing the nameless fire.
Daenerys wasn't important.
Just a lowly woman.
What was important was... the dragon.
As long as he got that dragon, he wouldn't hesitate even if the whole world took a turn with Daenerys!
Viserys looked up at the azure sky.
Uncontrollably, the image of that three-headed ice dragon coiled above King's Landing, burning the Red Keep into a sea of fire, floated into his mind.
And he, Viserys Targaryen, stood on the dragon's back.
Destroying all enemies, breaking through rebellious castles.
Accepting the worship of the masses!
That was a true King!
A desire stronger than reclaiming the throne grew wildly in his heart like a poisonous vine.
Dragon...
That dragon should be ridden by a true Targaryen.
And he was the last true dragon!
Not a savage from the North!
The smile on Viserys's face slowly disappeared.
Replaced by a coldness twisted by desire.
He looked at the embracing couple on the terrace, and his eyes changed.
Lynn was no longer his ally.
But a thief who had stolen his power!
The dragon could only be his!