VARYS
Watching as the King raised a dark brow when the young woman by the spy master´s side introduced him, Varys felt like a fool.
Not only had he been discovered like a novice, he had also failed to see the obvious truth about the man pretending to be the bastard son the honourable lord Eddard Stark.
Immediately, when Varys had laid eyes on the young King during the negotiation, he had been overcome with the urge to kick himself for the grave oversight he had committed.
How could he have just ignored the fact that Eddard Stark had claimed to have fathered a bastard, when he had a young wife with child waiting for him at Riverrun?
The lord of Winterfell would not have forsaken his marriage vows. Not only that but with one look at the King now knowing the truth, it was easy to see that Rhaegar Targaryen was indeed his father.
Clearing his throat, Varys tried to assure himself that at the time, there had been greater issues at hand than children born out of wedlock. However, there was a nagging sense of irritation in his being. A nagging that told him that he should have done better, that he should not have taken Lord Eddard at his word in the aftermath of the Rebellion.
He knew better than to take a man´s word for anything, even a man renowned for his honour like Lord Stark.
"It is an honour to meet you, your grace." Varys bowed deeply, knowing full well that the action must have looked ridiculous in a heavy woollen dress. "I had hoped to meet you under… more favourable circumstances."
Glancing at the White direwolf laying by the fire gnawing at a large bone, Varys felt nervous as the red eyes pierced into his own.
Leaning back in his chair, the young King gestured for Varys to sit down in the chair by the desk as Arya Stark silently made her way to stand at her cousin´s shoulder.
Taking the offered seat, Varys let out a simpering smile that he had perfected over his long service to Aerys and then Robert Baratheon. "Thank you, your grace."
"Tell me lord Varys, what brings you to Riverrun?" King Jon asked, the deep Northern burr almost soothing as he kept his handsome face clear of any emotions.
Fighting a smile, Varys found himself yet again pleased with how the King handled what was thrown his way. Remaining courteous despite going straight to the point. "You do, your grace. Although, I had hoped to observe for a while longer."
Glancing at the young lady standing by her cousin, Varys wondered how she had seen through his disguise. A girl of fourteen had done what even his dearest friend had never even come close to.
A proud part of him wanted to write it off as the girl being a Waterdancer and therefore more observant than most. However, that lie he wanted to tell himself was cast away before it could take root.
Illyrio had been a Waterdancer and he had never been able to rip apart the cloak Varys had draped himself in. No, something else had given him away and he had to find out what it was.
Later.
For now, he had to content himself with waiting; he had more important business to attend to.
The King stayed silent, observing Varys, his dark eyes unreadable. The young man´s bearing reminded the spymaster strongly of his uncle however with how he handled Ser Jaime and the Westerlords, King Jon had shown wisdom that only a few lords of Westeros possessed, the late lord of Winterfell was not among them.
"I must say that I had not expected you to make peace with house Lannister and the lords of the West." Varys said when the King continued to remain silent.
Studying the man´s face intently, hoping to spot any hint of what the King was thinking, Varys found himself disappointed when King Jon remained stoic, as Varys was coming to realize was his way.
"Do you disapprove, my lord?" King Jon spoke quietly, in a tone that made Varys feel as the man desired the spymaster´s honest opinion.
"No, your grace." Varys spoke truthfully. "I am merely surprised. Not many men would have sat down with the Kingslayer and made peace when they had such overwhelming advantage."
"The dead do not care about our infighting, lord Varys. If we are to survive, we must set aside our pride and work together."
It was hard for Varys to keep from smiling, it was only his years of training in self-restraint that kept the grin from his face.
"Yes, you showed the lords the dead man, that was smart of you, your grace."
"It was merely common sense, was it not my lord? If I have proof of my words, should I not show it?"
"Is not a King´s word proof enough, your grace?" Varys countered with a slight smile slipping through his defences.
The King kept his face as unreadable as it had been before but Varys thought that there was a small glint in his eyes, a shimmer of amusement. "I find that when trying to convince men of the impossible, it is better to carry proof. No matter who is being convinced or doing the convincing."
"You said that you were here to watch." Lady Arya cut in, hand on the pommel of Darksister on her hip, while the grey direwolf sat at her side. "I assume that you are here to watch Jon."
"I wanted to see what kind of man he is." Varys confessed while a chill ran down his spine as the young girl stared into his eyes with her icy grey ones.
"And?" The Stark girl inquired, raising a brow much like the King had done when she had introduced Varys. "Does my brother stand up to your scrutiny?"
Meeting the young woman´s eyes, Varys was sure he had seen such a gaze before and not in her father, the late lord of Winterfell. However as much as he tried, he could not place it.
It had not been in her aunt; the lady Lyanna as Varys had never laid eyes on the rose of Winterfell nor had it been in either lord Rickard nor lord Brandon in the short time Varys had been in their presence.
"I have been hearing the wildest rumours about his grace for some time now, Lady Arya and I must say it is a rare thing indeed to meet a man who has lived up to them."
Arya Stark continued to look at Varys, her pale grey eyes not giving anything away. He felt his gaze once again drawn to the sword at her hip. "When I heard that you had found the sword Darksister, I had thought that you would have wielded it yourself, your grace."
Turning his words and attention back to the young King, Varys felt disappointment when he saw that Jon Targaryen remained as hard to read as before.
"I already have a sword."
"Ah, yes the Valyrian sword Longclaw, the sword of house Mormont?" Varys let out a small smile as he folded his hands in his lap. "I heard the blade had been given to you after saving the late lord commander´s life."
The King nodded but kept silent, as if he did not want to talk about what had happened.
"Not many men would have given up a valyrian steel sword, much less to a woman."
"Jon is not most men." Lady Arya replied and for the first time, Varys could detect a note of irritation in her voice, or so he thought. "And I will return Darksister."
"You would return a valyrian steel sword?" Feeling the surprise grip him, Varys could only stare at the young girl.
"Of course, I am simply borrowing it for a time. She belongs to Jon."
The spymaster could only blink at the young woman in front of him. He wondered if the promise of returning the ancestral sword of house Targaryen to its rightful owner would stand as firm when the time came to make good on that promise.
"I hardly think that you came here to Riverrun to talk about swords, lord Varys." The young woman reached out and buried her hand in the grey wolf's fur. "I assume you came here to gather information for Cersei. Am I right?"
"No."
Arya Stark´s eyes stared into his own, leaving Varys feeling naked despite the heavy servant dress he was wearing. It was like the girl was searching through his mind, looking for any hint of deceit that might lurk beneath the surface.
"Then why are you here?" She asked after a few more moments of silence. "You have been serving Cersei Lannister for years, why stop now?"
"I have never served Cersei Lannister." Varys´ words were soft but firm. "I only did as so many others, I waited for the right moment."
"Is it the right moment? Now that my brother has come forward with dragons and the might of the North, the Vale and the Riverlands." Raising an eyebrow, young Arya Stark stood still as a statue.
"I cannot in good conscious serve Cersei Lannister and after what happened in the Rebellion." Varys fell silent for a moment, searching for the right words. "Many of us made mistakes during that time, some of them were graver than others and in the aftermath, I swore to myself that I would wait for a worthy monarch to take the throne to offer my services."
King Jon, who had remained silent for a while rubbed his bearded chin. "You would have known about the man who calls himself Aegon, long before you heard about me. So tell us, why are you here instead of with him?"
"Truthfully, I was with Aegon and Jon Connington in the Stormlands." The spymaster answered, picking his words as he were choosing the finest gems. "It did not take me long to see whoever the boy is, he is not the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and certainly not a worthy monarch. So, naturally when I heard that you were the heir of the last dragon and had proof; I came here because I was sure that your grace would be coming to take the throne."
The man sitting before him stared at the spider, a glint of curiosity in his dark gaze. "And what makes a worthy monarch in your eyes?"
"Someone who cares as much about the smallfolk as he does for the high lords, someone who does not let their pride do the ruling for them."
"And you think that I am capable of living up to those ideals?"
"Oh, I think you are." Feeling triumphant, Varys let out a small genuine smile at the King. "I heard about what you did at Barrowton. How you helped the man who had fought against you at Winterfell and employed him to teach everyone who wished how to read; Rodrik, I believe his name was."
"Aye, his name is Rodrik." King Jon held Varys´ gaze however there was a hint of Rhaegar´s melancholy in those dark eyes. "It was the least I could do."
The despondent look in his eyes disappeared so fast that Varys was not sure if he imagined it. "However, I am curious," The King continued as the white direwolf finally stood from the hearth to walk over and sit beside his master, laying its head in the man´s lap. "What did you make of this Aegon?"
For a moment, Varys contemplated if he should tell the King how he had spirited his older brother away from the capital just before the Mountain had killed Elia Martell.
No, he decided. There was no need to confess. The young King before him would not benefit from that knowledge, it would only create doubt; it was best if the older of Rhaegar´s sons remained in his grave, no matter how certain that something had happened to the infant after Varys had handed him to the captain of the ship and the boy in the Stormlands was an imposter.
"There is not a hint of your father in him," Varys began, his eyes straying to the enormous wolf that was receiving a gentle scratch behind the ear. "Nor is there anything of Elia Martell. Regrettably he has a rather short temper, especially when it comes to you."
King Jon remained silent however his dark brow rose a fraction of an inch. "Does he?"
"Indeed, I am afraid he does your grace. Especially when anyone dares to call you trueborn or Rhaegar´s son." Remembering the tirade that had come from Aegon when he had first heard about Jon Targaryen rose in his mind.
"Well, I suppose that he cannot be all too pleased to have more competition for the Iron throne." Lady Arya said looking at her cousin. "Not after having gone through all the trouble of pretending to be someone who died almost twenty years ago."
"Oh, he does believe that he is Aegon Targaryen." Varys assured her, leaning a little forward in his chair. "He is accompanied by Jon Connington, who also believes that Aegon is truly Rhaegar´s son and is serving as his hand and advisor."
"The former lord of Griffin´s Roost. Have they attacked his former seat? I would imagine that he would like to take it." The King asked surprising Varys by his knowledge of who Jon Connington was, a man who had been in exile in Essos all of King Jon´s life and thought to have died years ago.
"There were plans to take Griffin´s Roost, however there was a storm that blew them off course and it seemed counterproductive to go south when they had landed so close to Storm´s End."
Silence lay over them as Varys watched the King think for a moment before the young man spoke. "I am told that you have a spy network that is unrivalled not only in Westeros but also in Essos."
With a nod Varys straightened in the chair. "Information is my trade, your grace and I have been cultivating my networks for decades. Who´s services I now humbly offer to you."
"Just like that?" Lady Arya spoke slowly, her voice low and Varys was sure that there was a sliver of danger in it. "After everything, you just want to support Jon?"
"I have served many Kings over the last few years," Varys allowed his eyes to drop to his smooth hands in his lap, before turning them again at the two people in front of him. "It would be a joy to serve a King who actually cares about the people of his realm for a change."
Arya Stark stared at him, her eyes seeming to bore into his own, then she leaned over to her cousin and whispered in his ear. As she straightened again, the King looked pensive. "In that case, I am sure that we can find you accommodations while we are staying in Riverrun. We will not be staying here for long, as we need to start the march to King´s Landing as soon as the Riverlords are ready."
Recognizing the dismissal, Varys stood and bowed deeply despite the dress. "Thank you, your grace. I will not disappoint you."
Raising a brow at his answer, Lady Arya let her hand drop from her wolf´s head. "I will show you to your chambers, lord Varys."
The young lady stalked forward and gestured for Varys to follow her. Bowing again to the King, the spymaster heeded her as they left the King in solitude.
Walking side by side in the darkened corridors, the only light being cast by the torches on the stone walls, Varys noticed that the lady Arya´s feet barely made a sound when she walked and the young woman seemed to hold herself with predatory grace. Every movement seemed measured and despite how relaxed she seemed; Varys knew that Arya Stark was ready to draw Darksister forth at any moment.
"I was there you know." She said quietly as the wolfs claws scratched at the stone floor. "When you met the waterdancer under the Red keep when my father was still hand."
It took everything in Varys to keep himself from gaping at the girl. Instead, he replied calmly, keeping his voice as pleasant as he could. "Oh? I did not see you."
"I know." Arya Stark glanced at him then turned her eyes back, staring ahead, her figure cast in an orange glow. "I was hiding by the dragon skulls. But I found your conversation very interesting."
"Did you?"
"Yes, I did."
Varys expected her to continue, yet she seemed content to allow the conversation halt as they continued their way, passing guards and servants who bowed before the young woman and greeted her respectfully.
It was not until they walked down a flight of stairs that she broke the silence again. "Do you have any plans to betray Jon?"
The spider stopped walking, feeling a little bit disappointed that she would come right out and ask him, letting go of any and all pretence.
Lady Arya stopped and watched him, waiting for him to answer as the shadows danced across her face.
"No matter what you think the truth is, you know that I will deny any intention of betraying the King, so why ask the question?"
Both girl and wolf stared at him, looking as immovable as mountains. "I will know if you lie."
Lacing his fingers behind his back, Varys found himself believing her. Perhaps it was her absolute surety in her word or the fact that she had seen through his disguise so easily that had convinced him. Or more likely it was the combination of the two. "I have no intention of betraying the King. I meant what I said, I truly do think that he is the right person to sit on the Iron throne."
Staring at him for a while longer, Arya Stark turned on her heel and started walking again, forcing Varys to follow. "Do you believe me?"
"Yes, I do believe that you have no plans to betray Jon at the moment."
Varys almost smiled at her. Careful, good, he thought to himself. The King was well served in having his cousin around.
They came to a stop again after a traveling a bit further and the young woman gestured at a closed door. "These are you chambers while we stay in Riverrun, my lord."
With that, she started to walk away, her direwolf close to her side.
"My lady." Varys called softly after her. Lady Arya stopped and half turned around. "What would you do if I did betray the King?"
They stood staring at one another in the dark corridor, Varys waiting for the inevitable threats of torture and death.
However, the girl did not say what the spymaster was expecting. Rather she only spoke two words that left the blood in his veins cold as ice.
"Valar Morghulis."
DAENERYS
The hot wind blew her hair away from her face, making the bells jingle merrily and Dany felt a swell of pride bloom in her chest. A new addition had been woven into the silver gold locks. The newest bell was bright gold, making it stand out amongst the silver ones, but it was none the less fitting.
The Dothraki warriors leaped out of her way as Dany and her two companions made their way forward. The looks of reverence filled her with lightness and Daenerys was reminded of when she had freed the slaves of Yunkai the first time.
Looking at the sellsword beside her, it was easy to see that Daario was enjoying himself immensely, smirking and swaggering as her warriors gazed at her.
Ser Barristan, on the other hand looked like a walking statue, showing no emotion on his weary face. Glancing at her lord commander of the Queensguard, Dany frowned at his attire.
The normally neat man´s armor was filthy with dust and dirt all over and he was missing his white cloak that made everyone aware of his status in her court. The lack of the white garment made the man look smaller and less dignified.
Ser Barristan looked nothing like the intimidating figure he cut when they left Meereen and ever since they had taken Yunkai, the man had been silent and sullen, refusing to speak unless spoken to; even then, his answers were short and with little emotion behind them.
Arriving at the centre of the camp, they entered the large area that had been made for her most precious child. However, her vision of Drogon was blocked by hundreds of large men as the Dothraki were gathered to see what was happening.
Neither Daario nor Ser Barristan had time to speak up before Dany was noticed by the Dothraki bloodriders, they jumped out of the way, reverently calling her Khalessi as the Black Dread reborn was revealed in all his glory. Drogon roared angerly at one of the men who had dared to stand too close to him, letting torrents of black flames streak across the sand.
The warrior jumped from the flames, throwing himself out of the fire´s path, only narrowly escaping a painful death.
"Perhaps my Queen," Daario spoke lowly, staring at her child. "It would be better to keep the dragon away from camp."
"No."
The sellsword wisely did not protest. Turning her eyes from the black dragon, Dany sneaked a look to where the lord commander was standing, despite the self-imposed muteness, the young Queen had expected him to say something about Drogon. However, the man just stood there, silent with an unreadable look.
They could not understand the bond between a dragonrider and their mount. No one in this world could understand her, not anymore. Not since the murder of her family during the Usurper´s Rebellion.
Taking a deep breath, Dany made her way to Drogon, leaving her guards behind. The dragon´s red eyes burned with fury as he let out another roar at the Dothraki warriors, who all retreated further away from the black dread come again. However, Dany only smiled softly at her child.
Together they would right the wrongs of the past, she knew they would.
Every step she took towards Drogon was small but she kept her back straight and her head held high.
Drogon´s red eyes found hers and she could see the fury that shimmered their depths. He was angry, Dany thought to herself. Angry at the injustices and angry at the still healing wound on his leg.
Turning her violet eyes to the offending wound, Dany felt the same wrath rise in her belly. The masters had dared to hurt her mount, and they had paid with their lives.
Closing the distance between them, Dany placed a small hand, gently on the dragon´s snout. "They will all pay." She whispered to him, as if they were sharing a secret. "The masters and all those who will try to deny me my birthright."
A low growl in his throat made Dany smile indulgently at him. Turning her head slightly to where the Dothraki saddle maker was standing, staring at them with wonder and nervousness in his eyes, Dany gestured for the man and his helpers to approach.
As soon as the men started to move towards Dany and her dragon, Drogon turned his eyes to where the Dothraki saddle maker and his helpers were slowly inching to where the Queen was standing.
Letting out a loud roar, Drogon turning all his attention to the men, making everyone rush backward, not wanting to face the dragon´s wrath.
Trying to calm the great dragon down, Dany gave him a scratch on his massive neck, whispering to him that everything was alright, and the men were not trying to hurt him.
Again, the men started to move forward at a crawling pace and Dany had to appreciate their bravery and devotion that they would dare to even approach Drogon when he was staring at them, showing them his black blade like teeth.
However, their bravery was only short lived as Drogon turned as swiftly as a cat, almost knocking Dany down into the dirt.
Roaring and letting out a torrent of flame, Drogon´s fury could be seen by all. The power of her oldest child was awe inspiring and the men who had dared to come close to the dragon, quicky dropped the massive saddle and jumped out of the way of the black fires.
As soon as Drogon had stopped breathing fire, Dany moved slowly towards him, to calm him down from his fury.
Getting the Dread to calm down again proved to be a hard task. It felt hours until Drogon allowed even Dany to come close enough to him to pet him on the nose. Even then, he was staring at the men all around him.
The saddle maker had to be dragged away as he had gotten burnt by the flames. Thankfully the saddle he had made had not been fodder to the black fires and lay quietly on the sand not far from the now scorched earth, where Drogon had made his displeasure known.
Moving with confidence, Dany called for Dothraki volunteers to help her carry the saddle to the large dragon. As two men walked over and picked the saddle up from the ground, Dany walked ahead of them.
Drogon continued to stare as he slowly leaned backwards, like he was planning to launch himself into the clear skies. "Drogon, stay still." Staring into his eyes, Dany reached out her hand and slowly placed it on his snout again.
When she felt that he understood what she wanted, Dany climbed onto his back and ordered the terrified men to come closer and thrust the saddle up after her.
With much difficulty they managed to haul the saddle up to the dragons back while Drogon snarled and threatened the Dothraki bloodriders. As soon as the Dany managed to grip the saddle Drogon snapped again and let out a sharp shriek in resentment.
The two men tuned white and rushed back, away from the black dragon. The weight of the saddle seemed to increase with every pull and it took all her strength to haul it on Drogon´s back. Every part of her body seemed to scream from the effort and her job was not made easier with her mount moving and snarling at the dreaded saddle.
Sweat started to pour of her as she stood up, adjusting the leather monstrosity on his back and she almost fell off when Drogon tried to shake the saddle of his back. Dany managed to drop to her knees and for a moment she felt her heart in her throat as the feeling when she had dangled helplessly in the air above Yunkai entered her mind.
Waiting for Drogon to still again, Dany took a deep breath to calm herself. The Dothraki could not see her as weak. No one could see her afraid, she had to be strong. Rising to her feet again, Dany did her best to get control of her breathing and the shaking of her hands.
"Drogon." Clearing her throat to keep her voice from shaking, Dany started to speak with her child in high Valyrian. "You must stay still."
The black dragon hissed and stilled a bit, yet there was an uneasiness in his large frame that refused to leave him.
Not wanting to test the great dragon´s temper anymore than she had to, Dany hurriedly adjusted the saddle to be as comfortable as could be. The saddle was by no means a perfect fit but it was the best the leatherworkers had been able to make it, going by nothing than Daenerys´ descriptions and seeing Drogon from the ground.
Dany slipped from Drogon´s back and the sweat from the effort clung to her skin as her leather clad feet landed in the sand, kicking up dust that attached itself to her body, making her grow irritated at the feeling.
Attaching the chains and leathers around his deep chest took more time than Dany would have liked and she was forced to whisper sweet nothings to her child while she worked to keep him calm.
When she was done, Dany called for the men to bring forth a horse to be slaughtered for her child. Fixing her gaze at the saddle that Drogon now spotted, Dany felt the mixed feeling tumble in her.
While now the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms would not be in danger of falling of Drogon´s back, having to use a saddle to ride her mount chafed at her very core.
It was undignified and in the stories that Viserys had told her about Aegon the Conqueror, her brother had never mentioned the man using a saddle.
Drogon sniffed the chains and leather that was now wrapped around his chest and back and she could see the anger at the disgrace at being saddled like a common horse. Shaking his massive body, Drogon tried to reach the chains to bite them off his body.
Staying with Drogon until the Dothraki arrived with the horse, Dany stopped the dragon from ripping the bindings from his body.
The men brought a chestnut stallion forward, who´s best years were well behind him; but despite that the horse screamed and reared from the terror of being so close to the great black dragon.
As soon as the horse was brought forward, Drogon´s attention was firmly on his new prey. With only a few quick steps, the black dragon leapt forward with a shriek and bit the horse´s head almost clean off and swung the now dead creature to his right.
Letting out yet another torrent of flames, Drogon started to feast on the carcass.
Devouring a whole horse would take the dragon some time. Watching Drogon with a fond smile on her face, Dany decided to leave for her tent. It would do her good to relax for a bit while her mount ate.
Turning on her heel Dany headed back, followed by Daario and the lord commander of the Queensguard.
Her handmaidens all bowed to her and one of them handed her a cup of sweet wine as Dany took a well-deserved seat.
She watched silently as Daario swaggered over and poured himself a cup of wine and took a seat in front of her. "Everything is ready for the attack; we only await your word."
"Good, we shall attack as soon as Drogon is done with his meal." Taking a small sip from her cup, Dany glanced at her lord commander of the Queensguard.
Ser Barristan stood by the entrance of the tent, as still as a statue, staring ahead at nothing. The good mood of her success was soured seeing the knight not sharing in it.
The man should have been rejoicing in her victories, not sulking like a child. "You have not replaced your cloak ser?"
"No, your grace."
When the man said nothing else, Dany felt the anger rise in her again at how he dared to speak to her. "Why not?"
"I am sure that there are more important issues to deal with than my apparel, your grace."
Dany frowned at his words, something about them made her feel like they were a jab at her, at her position.
No, it could not be, Ser Barristan had guarded her father and her brother Rhaegar. The knight was not Tyrion Lannister, who needed to be watched at all hours, who would not hesitate to stab her in the back, just like his brother had done to her father when it suited him.
But had Ser Barristan not worked for the Usurper for years? Even when knowing that Dany had been alive. Was the man now waiting for the opportunity to defect to the false dragon that had landed on the shores of Westeros?
No, the man was faithful. He had to be, Ser Barristan had so often likened her to her brother Rhaegar, whom the man clearly loved and respected. Perhaps he was just shocked that a woman could be just as great a conqueror as Aegon Targaryen, the first King of the Seven Kingdoms.
That had to be it, it just had to.
The man was a knight, he knew that sometimes in war, a King or a Queen had to be ruthless and make sacrifices. It was the fate she accepted in the field with Drogon, as the Dothraki come up on them.
Looking at the statue like man, Dany had an idea that would work to calm the man´s nerves. "Ser, my brother once told me that Dragonstone was decorated by hundreds of stone dragons, is that true?"
"Yes, your grace." Dany smiled, wanting to hear more about the castle where Aegon had planned the conquest of Westeros. "One of the towers is even shaped like a dragon."
"Is it true that it was constructed by magic and dragonfire?"
"So the maesters say and I am inclined to believe it." Ser Barristan looked unsure for a moment before speaking. "Your brother loved Dragonstone but I think that he loved Summerhall more despite the history."
Dany remembered the man telling her this before, how Rhaegar had loved the place where he had been born, where most of their family had died. "When I take back my throne, I will rebuild it." She decided, feeling the determination fill her as she took a sip of the sweet wine. "In Rhaegar´s honor."
Expecting a smile to form on the knight´s face, Dany was surprised to see Ser Barristan look morose. "As you say, your grace."
"You do not think that I can?" Feeling more than a little offended, Dany sat straighter in her chair, staring the man down, daring him to say that she could not do this.
"I did not say that your grace. I am sure that you would have no problem in rebuilding Summerhall."
"Then what?" Dany insisted, gripping the cup of wine firmly.
"Wars and conquests take a long time and are expensive, your grace and you are planning from going from one conquest to another."
"I have more than enough gold to take the Seven Kingdoms and soon enough we can leave the bay of Drogon."
"As you say, your grace."
Drogon letting out another roar of anger echoed Dany´s mood perfectly at hearing the knight´s words. The man´s lack of faith in her abilities cut at her, especially when she had just taken Yunkai without any great loss of her men.
A huff escaped her lips, Dany did not need to hear more of the man´s doubts about her capabilities. What she needed was people that helped her and supported her, like Daario. The sellsword was always quick to support her when she needed it and offered her good advice.
Perhaps it would be a good idea to allow the man a seat on her small council when she took the Iron throne. Daario was a capable warrior and he was in love with her, so his loyalty was not in question.
Daenerys would prefer Daario over some fat lord that only cared about lining his own pockets and marrying his heir to her, gaining influence. Glancing at the man in question, who was busy with drinking from his cup, Dany could see that the sellsword was in high spirits.
At least he was happy with her success.