After hearing Drogon's thoughts, Daenerys considered for a moment before replying:
"You may return to your master, but he must give proper compensation for your work. Simply providing food and shelter is clearly not enough to repay the knowledge you teach."
"To prevent the masters from enslaving you again, I require both of you to sign an agreement stating exactly what you will teach and what monthly payment you will receive. If I discover that no agreement exists, or that the payment is not being made according to the agreement, then you will no longer be allowed to teach those children."
"I also have good news for you. I am about to establish an academy in Meereen. Anyone whose level of knowledge meets the academy's standards may enter to study deeper subjects. If a person is learned enough, they may even teach others."
"Students will pay tuition to attend the academy, and teachers will receive payment for educating others. I think you would like the chance to pass your learning on to even more children."
Understanding her meaning, Puka excitedly asked:
"Can… can I also enter the aca… academy?"
"Of course," Daenerys answered. "We need teachers like you—people who are educated and genuinely enjoy teaching children."
After Meereen stabilized, Daenerys and her advisors had decided to establish the main academy in Meereen itself, using a smaller pyramid east of the great pyramid where Daenerys lived.
Astapor and Yunkai would each have branch academies, though on a much smaller scale.
Satisfied, Puka departed.
The next visitor was a boy of about thirteen, dressed in pale yellow noble clothing. At a glance, it was obvious he belonged to one of the Great Master families.
"Is there something you wish to say to Her Majesty?" Missandei asked beside Daenerys.
"Y-Your Grace, my name is Mileda. I beg you to execute the slave who killed my father and violated my mother," the boy said timidly after glancing at Daenerys on the high platform.
As she listened to his account of the slave's crimes, Daenerys felt little emotional reaction. Instead she asked calmly:
"Where is this slave now?"
"Only one of them was imprisoned in your dungeon. The other two were never punished at all," Mileda answered, staring at her as if searching for a definite promise.
This was not the first time Daenerys had heard members of the Great Master class accuse freed slaves of violence.
On the night Meereen fell, most of the slaves had risen up in response to her invasion.
Some assisted Grey Worm in seizing the gates. Others, like the men the boy described, had joined together to attack the masters who had once enslaved them.
The slaves had endured generations of exploitation, oppression, and abuse. Once given the opportunity for revenge, the fury they had buried for years erupted with terrifying intensity. It would not be an exaggeration to say they used every cruel method imaginable.
Although the Unsullied had stopped the worst excesses after entering the city, they could do nothing about what had already happened.
After the battle, the Unsullied only arrested a symbolic handful of slaves—those who had killed excessively or committed especially brutal acts. Most were never pursued.
Daenerys already had experience dealing with such matters.
"What are the names of the three slaves?" she asked.
"I only know the one from my household was named Yali. He definitely knows the other two," Mileda replied, hatred visible in his eyes.
"I will have Yali interrogated and punished appropriately," Daenerys said, then nodded toward Missandei.
Before Missandei could speak, Mileda suddenly shouted:
"You're not going to execute them, are you?"
"That will depend on the judgment after trial," Daenerys answered patiently.
"They killed my father and violated my mother! They all deserve to die!"
Unable to get the answer he wanted, the boy became emotional.
Daenerys did not take his outburst too seriously.
"Did your people never torture or execute slaves?" she asked.
"They… they were only lowborn filth! How could they dare do such things to my mother?!"
As he spoke, Mileda moved forward, struggling violently after the Unsullied stopped him below the platform.
"Take him away," Daenerys ordered.
She knew further discussion would accomplish nothing. The hatred between masters and slaves had existed for nearly a thousand years, and she had no good solution for it.
Missandei had already grown used to such scenes and called for the next petitioner.
The next man was someone Daenerys had met before several times—Xhitzdahr, the man who had once begged permission to collect the body of his father from the crucifixion posts.
"Your Grace," Xhitzdahr said as he knelt, "I have come to request that the fighting pits be reopened. Meereen no longer has slaves. Without the pits, Meereen will no longer truly be Meereen. In time, no one will even visit this city."
Daenerys's expression darkened at once.
"The fighting pits became famous because slaves butchered one another to entertain the masters. I will never permit them to reopen."
She could allow former slaves to continue working for masters in exchange for wages, but the fighting pits were a symbol of slavery itself. She would not allow them to return.
"Your Grace, the pits did not contain only slaves," Xhitzdahr insisted. "Many free men entered willingly—to demonstrate courage, strengthen themselves, and earn great rewards. This has been one of Meereen's defining traditions for thousands of years. You could also collect enormous revenues from the pits to fund your armies."
Daenerys considered his argument. Then she noticed Daario seemed to have something to say and nodded toward him.
"Your Grace," Daario said, "before I joined the Second Sons, I once fought in the pits of Meereen myself. What he says is true. Many mercenaries entered them willingly to hone their skills."
[If both sides agree and money is involved, what's the problem?]
Drogon actually enjoyed the fighting pits. Just imagining the wild, feverish atmosphere stirred his blood.
Daenerys's greatest concern had always been the masters using slave bloodsport for entertainment again. But if all participants truly entered voluntarily, then perhaps reopening the pits was possible.
And she genuinely needed money to support the Unsullied and the Second Sons.
"In that case," she finally declared, "I will permit the pits to reopen. But participation must be entirely voluntary. Any coercion whatsoever, and I will shut them down again."
"Thank you, Your Grace!"
Having achieved his goal, Xhitzdahr departed happily.
Ever since the crucifixion of the 163 Great Masters, Xhitzdahr had gradually become the spokesman for Meereen's noble class. Most of their petitions were now delivered through him.
After he left, Daenerys met with more than a dozen additional petitioners.
Most of the issues they brought before her were trivial everyday disputes, which left Drogon utterly speechless.
[Why not just let some official handle these little matters? Or appoint a governor? A queen isn't meant to spend all day settling petty disputes.]
Watching Daenerys spend two straight days buried in endless trivial cases, Drogon deliberately voiced his thoughts in her mind.
Slaver's Bay was nothing like Westeros.
In the Seven Kingdoms, each region largely governed itself, with most land distributed among nobles and lords. A king mainly needed to manage King's Landing and keep the great houses under control.
Daenerys, however, had almost no reliable administrative structure beneath her. Everything depended on her personally.
At this rate, she would exhaust herself long before ever marching on King's Landing.
For now, the cities of Slaver's Bay obviously could not simply be granted away to feudal lords.
But appointing governors to manage them on her behalf might truly be a good solution.
-----------------------
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