I had been ready to inform all of my would-be customers that I was contractually forbidden from taking on such works. After all, I did have that exclusive contract with Maelio.
Then I spoke to the man, and I could only curse.
"You see, apparently Magister Mopatis wants us to perform in Pentos, and I have received quite the offer from one Petyr Baelish..."
With a small tired sigh I leaned back on my chair.
"Old friend, I know that you know already, that I cannot set foot in Westeros... Well, technically Icould, and even come back without being harmed, but I cannot go with my... siblings." Of course, Maelio knew about the Targaryen children. The Sealord -who was also in the know, much to my chagrin- had seen fit to involve him.
"I know that your siblings would not be safe there, that is, if they are recognized..."
"No, Maelio, I will not walk with them straight into the Lion's mouth!" Of course, Maelio, being as much a business man as he was an artist, was mightily tempted by the obscene amounts of wealth that both Mopatis and the Westerosi were throwing our way.
"No... but I have been thinking of giving them a... counter offer." Maelio said after a few seconds, a large grin on his face, "If you so desire my friend, you won't even need to leave Braavos, if you write the plays and the Troupe performs them, no one ever needs to know why won't you set foot in Westeros.
"Or Pentos," I added, "I do not trust Mopatis, and I know he has some... contacts across the Narrow Sea, who would also be all too interested in... my siblings..." At Maelio's seeming confusion, I added, "It's amazing what you can learn when you look for what's hidden in plain sight. I have... spoken to some fellow writers from Pentos" -that was even true!- "and while it is not something that is widely known, it is no secret that Illyrio Mopatis' initial wealth was made with the help of an accomplice who vanished mysteriously some fourteen years back... And within a couple of weeks, Aerys the Mad had a new Spymaster."
"You are starting to sound like that drunk madman over at the Blue House." Maelio commented with a small laugh, "But I suppose that you won't be swayed on this, I swear you are as stubborn as an Ox when it comes to it."
With a nod, I stood up, and he grinned.
"Very well, then that's what we'll do, you'll write the things, the Troupe will travel, and we'll be rich enough to buy a small Kingdom each."
The grin on Maelio's face was... unnerving, but it was still something I would rather suffer instead of what could come to pass in Westeros.
"You already have something thought of, don't you Tirso?" Maelio leaned forward, and I groaned.
"Aye, I have some rough outlines, I can have either of the two things in a couple of weeks, and both within a moon." I told him, resigned to it, but at least I would not have to go personally to Westeros. Even if I were not taking care of two children whose lives would be endangered by simply being there, I would rather stay away from that hive of scum and villainy, what with Her Incestuous Majesty and Sir Smug Sister-Screwer and all the rest of that ensemble of fools and petty tyrants.
"Good! I don't suppose you can tell me what you have in mind."
"No Maelio," I said with a sigh, "I still have much to work on, so, Old Friend, go and tell the rest of the Troupe, I'm sure they'll at least appreciate the change in scenery."
With a laugh, Maelio departed, and I decided to pour myself some of the pearmyleanri.
I was definitely too sober to deal with this kind of shit so early in the morning.