The Royal Family of Qarth were the descendants of the ancient King and Queen. They were not a single person, but a group of direct-line blood relatives.
Xaro, eyeing Daenerys's dress, dramatically warned her that to meet the Royal Family and win their favor, she absolutely must wear traditional Qarthian attire.
This meant the low-cut, long gowns worn by Qarthian ladies in the streets—gowns that exposed the entire right breast while otherwise resembling ordinary dresses.
"I don't disrespect the Royal Family," Daenerys countered, "but as a guest, wouldn't wearing the same clothes as Qarthian women be an attempt to blur my identity? Wouldn't that be even more disrespectful to them?"
She didn't want to expose her breasts to a group of leering eyes, even though they were rather small.
In truth, she wasn't just being argumentative. No guest ever had to wear the same clothes as their host when visiting.
Unless that guest had no dignity, fawning over the host in hopes of gaining something. In such cases, they ceased to be guests and became beggars and alms-givers.
Over the past few days, how many "dragon-seekers" had Daenerys received? They came from all sorts of nations and wore their own traditional attire. Not a single one had donned a Dothraki painted vest.
This incident revealed Xaro's deep-seated contempt for her.
Many city-states feared the Horsemen, yet looked down on them. Clearly, in the Qarthian's eyes, Daenerys was just another barbaric Horseman, not the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and Princess of Dragonstone.
The original Daenerys had been solely focused on reclaiming her throne. She had desperately hoped for the Qarthians' aid and had gone to great lengths to accommodate them.
Yet even after adopting Qarthian traditional attire, the Royal Family hadn't lent her a single soldier.
Hmm, speaking of which, this Daenerys was still puzzled as to why the city before her bore no resemblance to Qarth in *Game of Thrones*.
Xaro wasn't black at all; on the contrary, he was pale-skinned.
He hadn't madly colluded with the Warlock to kill the other twelve Great Masters. Here, city guards, camel cavalry, and a massive fleet kept even the most powerful Warlock in check.
Besides, killing them would have been pointless. The thirteen Great Masters were merchants; countless others would have simply replaced them.
Finally, Qarth was immensely wealthy.
It was obvious once you thought about it: could Suez ever be poor?
If Daenerys had truly succeeded in conquering the city as depicted in the television series, she could have easily purchased the entire Slaver's Bay, rendering any need for deception to acquire Astapor's Unsullied obsolete.
"The Royal Family would never receive someone wearing a Dothraki painted vest," the Milkman Xaro's words jolted Daenerys from her reverie.
After a moment's thought, she said, "Horsemen don't only wear painted vests. We need our own distinctive attire—a *cheongsam*, or as we call it, a *Dothraki Robe*."
She then instructed Iri to retrieve a long, peony-red robe from the chest.
The robe was made of soft, lustrous Qohorik silk, trimmed with gold. It had short sleeves and a white rose embroidered on each collar and hem. The side split ran up to mid-thigh.
When Daenerys appeared before Xaro in the *cheongsam*—a Qarthian tailor had sewn it according to her design—his mouth dropped open, his pig-like eyes bulging round and wide, as if they might pop out.
"Is this really Horsemen attire?" he stammered, swallowing hard in disbelief.
"This is a Dothraki *cheongsam*—the clothing of our Horsemen," the Horseman maid said proudly.
"What do you think?" Daenerys turned in a circle, her gaze settling on Xaro.
"Much better than the painted vest," he nodded, his eyes full of admiration as he carefully examined the cheongsam. "Simple yet elegant, both alluring and dignified, it completely reveals a woman's curves and allure. Excellent, truly excellent. Khaleesi, you've just elevated the Dothraki civilization by a significant leap!"
These words made Daenerys see the Milkman in a new light. His aesthetic sense and ability to embrace new things far surpassed the ordinary.
That afternoon, wearing a silver collar around her neck, a red cheongsam with white peonies, and blue slippers, Daenerys arrived at the gates of the Hall of a Thousand Seats, surrounded by her Bloodriders and Jorah.
Hmm, wearing a cheongsam while riding a horse was out of the question. This was why she and her handmaidens, despite having had cheongsams for some time, had never worn them in public.
Beautiful, yes, but utterly impractical for riding.
As for the silver collar, which resembled a gorget, it looked somewhat similar to the one worn by the Red Priestess Melisandre—both were gold and silver neck rings set with a dazzling large gem at the center.
However, Melisandre's gem was a ruby, while Daenerys's was a Magic Amethyst, given to her by Xaro for protection against poisons.
He said the Royal Family had a long-standing reputation for treachery, often gifting poisoned wine to those they perceived as threats. The Magic Amethyst, he assured Daenerys, would render her immune to all poisons.
In another world, Daenerys would have scoffed at such a claim. But in this fantastical, otherworldly realm, she had to maintain at least a semblance of skepticism, even when faced with the most bizarre of circumstances.
To her surprise, the Royal Family requested that she not bring her dragon to the audience. Xaro sneered at this, "Your dragon breathes fire. They're like a bunch of silkworms huddled in a warm nursery, unable to adapt to the outside world. Even the slightest harm would send them into a terrified wail."
Daenerys shot him a glance, thinking to herself, *If you scheming merchants hadn't done those terrible things to the Royal Family, would they be so jumpy?*
Still, the royals wanted to see the dragon.
She led her Bloodriders and the dragon, following a portly black eunuch through the palace gates. They entered a training ground adjacent to the main hall through a corridor on the left. Normally, the Royal Family would stand atop the pointed, high tower at the front to observe the soldiers' drills.
The square, paved with colorful cobblestones, stood empty. On the top-floor balcony of the high tower, a group of people stood in the shadows.
"Mother of Dragons, you may now remove the True Dragons' shackles and soar freely through the Hall of a Thousand Seats!" the old eunuch said, his eyes crinkling into crescent moons.
Daenerys sighed. *When you're under someone else's roof, you have to do things that make you uncomfortable.*
She removed the iron collars from around the necks of the three dragons. *Big Black,* she thought, *they're treating us like pets for their amusement. Take the two brothers and fly around outside the city. Remember to avoid humans, and don't land until I call you.*
*Hiss—* Big Black leaped into the air, intending to spring skyward without gliding, just as he had before. But as he exerted himself, his left leg buckled, and he stumbled, crashing onto the cobblestones.
"Hahaha! Big Black, you've been eating too much these past few days! You're all fat now!" Daenerys laughed, her voice light and carefree.
They had been in Qarth for over half a month, and the three dragons had never flown. They were fed fresh meat daily without limit, and everyone could see they had grown noticeably plump.
They had even become rather adorably chubby.
After all, they were dragons, and dragons naturally belonged to the vast sky. The three dragons ran a dozen steps across the ground, then leaped into the air, soaring upward. They circled the plaza several times before gradually climbing higher and higher, until they were over a kilometer above.
The old eunuch, his right hand pressed to his forehead like he was saluting, watched until the three dragons had shrunk to black dots and vanished. Only then did he smack his lips, his expression both satisfied and wistful. "True dragons, those were indeed true dragons. Khaleesi, couldn't you have let them fly a few more circles?"
"Even if I shouted now, they wouldn't hear me," Daenerys said, spreading her hands in helplessness.
"Very well."
He then led Daenerys and her party back to the main hall atop the high platform. They climbed the ninety-nine stone steps and stood before the door for a full half hour. The massive, gold-studded hardwood door, far wider than the city gates, creaked open with the weight of history.
A plump man in loose, multi-colored silk robes and trousers stepped out. He swept a indifferent gaze over Daenerys and her group, then addressed her in High Valyrian, with a Qarthian accent: "The Royal Family awaits you, Khaleesi. Your retainers will remain outside."
The man's voice was smooth and devoid of personal emotion, like that of a messenger automaton. Yet his intonation, with its rise and fall, was surprisingly melodious.
Daenerys nodded to Jorah and the Bloodriders before following the Milkman into the palace's main hall.
The hall was vast, spanning a thousand square meters in a roughly 30-meter by 40-meter rectangular layout. Its four walls were lined with windows, allowing abundant natural light to fill the space. As Daenerys entered, her gaze fell upon the richly robed Qarthians seated at the far end of the hall.
From the hall's center, marble steps gradually ascended to a high stone platform situated between the circular ceiling and the steps.
Twenty-four massive wooden chairs, arranged in a crescent shape on the platform, stood out. These chairs were not only enormous but also intricately carved, their gilded surfaces gleaming brilliantly. Each chair was adorned with amber, agate, jade, and emeralds, making them as unique and dazzling as a collection of blooming flowers.
On each chair sat a Qarthian royal, their skin pale as milk. They wore opulent Qarthian robes, their ages ranging from old to young. Among them were muscular men and frail, sickly individuals. Some stared intently at Daenerys's graceful steps, while others seemed completely distracted, their eyes drifting as if seeing a dragon had already fulfilled their day's purpose.
"I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms," Daenerys announced with dignified composure, placing her hand over her heart and curtsying. "I am deeply honored to be summoned by the ancient and noble Royal Family of Qarth."
A long silence followed, until a middle-aged man on the left spoke, "Mother of Dragons, your cheongsam is truly striking."
This was Windrow, one of the targets Xaro had advised her to bribe.
In addition to him, two other members of the Qarthian Royal Family had accepted her Shining Coins.
Xaro had advised her that she'd need a few allies present to speak on her behalf.
At first, she'd dismissed his advice, but now, though she felt the money hadn't been well spent, it hadn't been entirely wasted either.
The others watched her silently, as if watching a puppet show.
Would an audience ever speak to the puppets on stage?
None of the Royal Family greeted her actively. After a long wait, only Windrow offered praise for her cheongsam.
But Daenerys quickly remembered her objective: to allay the Qarthian Royal Family's fears of a potential new Dragon King.
Following the script she'd prepared, she began to state her case: "I am the last descendant of the Targaryens, and I have the right to inherit the throne of the Seven Kingdoms." "The people of the Seven Kingdoms are secretly sewing True Dragon banners in their homes, waiting for my call to rally behind me." "The Trade Prince of Pentos and the Sea Lord of Braavos both support my restoration to the throne."
She spoke like an innocent, dreamy girl, babbling about her longing for her homeland of Westeros, her optimism about reclaiming the throne, and her hopes for the nobles and good people of the Seven Kingdoms.
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(End of Chapter)