Once the food and drink had been served, the luxurious cabin fell into silence, with only three people capable of holding conversation.
Across the table, the man's eyes shimmered with excitement as he brazenly gazed at her. Daenerys Targaryen felt slightly uneasy.
In her mind, Drogo had once been the worst man in the world—he burned, killed, pillaged, committed every cruelty imaginable, especially to weaker girls. When she had first married him, before she won his heart, she had seen him torture dozens of young girls to death. Though Drogo had changed much since her rebirth, the Mother of Dragons had been deeply influenced by him and found herself drawn to bad men.
And Kerry was one such bad man—hypocritical and two-faced. In front of Drogo, he acted the most loyal of subordinates, but in secret, he coveted his wife.
Daenerys believed she'd guessed his intentions. There was something novel about this repulsive man that stirred a faint sense of intrigue within her.
But as queen, there were things she could never let her subordinates see. She feigned embarrassment, raising her goblet and motioning for Missandei to fill it. The wine was both sweet and strong, imbued with the rich aroma of Western spices—far more luxurious than the light Ghiscarian vintages she'd recently tasted.
The queen recognized the flavor immediately and used it to steer the conversation: "This is cantaloupe wine from Pentos."
The remark clearly pleased Kerry, who eagerly responded, "Yes, indeed. Pentos is known for more than just cheese production. The world's been misled by Governor Illyrio's past profession."
Daenerys had lived in the corpulent cheesemonger's manse for quite a while. The mention of Illyrio caught her attention. "Illyrio—you know him? Or have you had dealings with him?"
Kerry cast a glance at the fruits on the table, picked a fig, and stretched across to hand it to her. As the queen's delicate hand accepted it, he sat back down, lips twitching—but instead of continuing the topic, he turned to Missandei and said, "Beautiful Naathi girl, could you ask the chef to prepare another pot of chilled seaweed soup and bring it over?"
Daenerys took a bite of the fig, raised an eyebrow naturally, and praised, "So sweet."
She then gave a slight nod toward her handmaiden, signaling her to obey the commander's request.
Missandei bowed slightly, casting a wary glance at the sycophantic Kerry, then lifted her skirts and left the cabin.
Understanding the intent, Daenerys said softly, "Now that it's just the two of us, say what you came to say."
Kerry dropped the courteous facade he wore before Drogo and his queen, and his demeanor grew more cavalier.
The commander of the Golden Company picked up a fig, took a bite, chewed, swallowed, and licked the syrup from his lips. Slowly, he said, "Daenerys, sweet queen, so sweet it comforts the soul. Like cheese, you make life taste better. I can't begin to express how shaken I was by your beauty. A child once left Qarth—so innocent, so lovely—but I feared she was sailing to her death. Even as a queen, a dragonrider, surrounded by mighty armies, I still feared for her."
The praise was enough to make any girl feel honored, but the mention of death made Daenerys frown. Irritated, she asked, "What are you getting at?"
Kerry's tone turned solemn. "In New Ghis, I heard terrible rumors about you. I wept for it. I wanted to tell you—but I was afraid."
Daenerys felt her heart tighten. "Afraid of what?"
Kerry glanced around warily, then covered his mouth and whispered, "Afraid of the other man destined to become a dragonrider."
There were only three living dragons in the known world, so the reference was obvious. Daenerys' expression grew serious. "It's natural for you to fear my husband. But if you stay in line, there's no need. Drogo treats his own people with understanding."
Kerry nodded in agreement, then added with veiled intent, "His Majesty is understanding with me, yes—but with you? He's a bit petty."
Daenerys leaned forward, voice low. "Explain."
Kerry hesitated, then steeled himself and said, "You carry the blood of Aegon the Conqueror. You are the rightful heir of House Targaryen. The dragons should be yours alone. The entire fleet should be yours. But another dragonrider always stands above you. He knows how noble you are, yet he keeps you beneath him. Sweet Queen, you must understand—the true dragon never submits to anyone!"
Daenerys sprang to her feet, seized her goblet, and splashed the wine in his face. "That's treason!"
Kerry also stood, wiping the wine from his face. He left his side of the table and slowly walked toward her.
The queen panicked, instinctively covering her chest, and warned, "What are you doing?! If you try anything, Drogo will cut you into pieces and toss you to the sharks!"
Hearing this, Kerry halted. He knelt on one knee, unafraid, and continued, "Sweet Queen, my loyalty belongs to you alone—so this isn't treason. You are the true savior. Governor Illyrio believes it too. He waits in Pentos, eager to conspire with you on reclaiming the Iron Throne. In fact, the Golden Company, which he purchased at great cost, was meant to serve you from the start!"
"Your words are riddled with holes. I don't believe you. You're just a pawn of that false Aegon!"
Confused and shaken, Daenerys turned and fled the cabin.
From a hidden compartment within the ship, a black-robed, masked figure stepped out. Concerned, he asked, "You let her go? Aren't you afraid she'll tell the savage king about you?"
Kerry answered with a confident smile, "She won't. My words struck a chord."
The masked man hesitated, then asked, "So you think she'll accept our support?"
With reverence in his voice, Kerry replied, "Her childhood was spent in flight and poverty—fleeing from one Free City to another, always terrified, never at peace. Her only family was a half-mad brother, who eventually sold her to a khal for an army. In her darkest moment, she hatched dragons and was reborn in fire. I know she's proud—how could she not be? She has three dragons and is the heir of House Targaryen. I know she's strong—how could she not be? The Dothraki despise weakness. If Daenerys had always shown weakness, she'd have ended up like Viserys: a pile of bones. I know she's fierce—burning New Ghis with her young dragons proved that. She crossed grasslands and red wastelands, survived assassins, plots, and failed magic. She carries the grief of a brother and a son. With her delicate feet in sandals, she shattered the chains of slaves. A woman like that is destined never to kneel before anyone. That's why she will accept our support. She must."
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🐉 Dragon King of Ice and Fire
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