chapter 109 part 2
Glyn was not at all surprised that he would not be seeing Viserys for the time being.
Viserys was the mad dragon he and Varys had carefully cultivated. According to their plan, he was just a key to throw Westeros into chaos.
The current Daenerys was merely a tool to help Viserys exchange for troops, and then a sacrifice to ignite the wrath of the Khal.
Illyrio had specially arranged for blonde handmaidens bought from brothels to teach Daenerys various bedroom techniques... The beloved Khaleesi would be targeted by assassins from Westeros, and the sleeping dragon and the Khal would immediately join forces... A mad dragon (Viserys) plus an avenging Khal, and Westeros would flow with rivers of blood.
Varys and Illyrio's conspiracy was a chain of interlocking rings. Tsk, how devious.
...
Glyn looked at Illyrio with a gratified expression. "Magister, this is truly good news. Thank you again for your assistance. I shall await an audience with Her Highness the Princess."
...
...
King's Landing. A secret room in Chataya's brothel.
Lysa Tully gripped the distressed-looking Petyr Baelish tightly.
Lysa's voice was shrill. "Why? This is impossible! Little Robert cannot leave me!"
Petyr looked particularly frail today.
"My Lysa, I am sorry. I only just learned of this news myself. Lord Jon deliberately concealed it from everyone, including you and me!"
Lysa froze, her tone frantic. "Did he discover... about us?"
Petyr shook his head. The tense Lysa finally let out a breath, her taut body nearly collapsing in relief.
Petyr reached out to support Lysa, comforting her in that magnetic voice of his. "Lysa, do not worry. You have done nothing wrong. It is all my fault for being unable to let you go. Even in death, I will protect you. You will not suffer the slightest harm."
"Littlefinger..." Lysa was moved, a single tear rolling down her cheek.
After embracing for a while, Lysa suddenly said, "Hurry and tell me, what does he plan to do with my son?"
Petyr's grey-green eyes stared at the anxious Lysa, a look of pity in his gaze.
Petyr sighed helplessly and began to speak. "Lord Jon feels his health may prevent him from teaching Little Robert. He wants to send your son to Dragonstone, to become the ward of Lord Stannis."
Lysa shrieked, "What about me? That's my son! Why can't I teach Little Robert myself? Why must my son be snatched away from my side?!"
Petyr gently patted Lysa's back. "After his illness, we all feel Lord Jon has become more and more stubborn. He would rather trust Lord Stannis, who is far away on Dragonstone, than the people close to him."
After speaking, he gazed at Lysa for a moment before continuing, "My Lysa, you should know that I adore Little Robert. I have no children of my own; I even see him as my own flesh and blood. In this, I am the same as you. I do not want Little Robert to leave his own mother."
Lysa's plump, fair hand caressed Petyr's thin cheek, moved. "Littlefinger, my biggest regret is not being able to bear you a child... You can treat Little Robert as your own son. I know you love him even more than Jon does. Don't worry, I'll go find Jon in a moment. He can forget about taking Little Robert from my side without my permission!"
Petyr shook his head, his tone tinged with weariness. "It's useless. I have already argued with Lord Jon. He said... it is precisely because he cannot trust you that Little Robert must leave."
Lysa screamed, "That dying old man! That dying old man! Why? Why?!"
Looking at Lysa, who had lost all reason and seemed to have gone mad, Petyr secretly curled the corner of his lips.
When she married Jon, he was already an old man.
Due to Lysa's previous indiscretions and the significant age gap between them, their marriage was loveless.
After marrying, Lysa had five miscarriages—two at the Eyrie and three in King's Landing—and two stillbirths before finally giving birth to Robert Arryn.
[The Eyrie is located in the Vale of Arryn and is the stronghold of House Arryn.]
Robert Arryn had always been sickly, which was why Lysa doted on him to an extreme degree.
After her last stillbirth, Lysa had fallen into paranoia, always feeling that enemies surrounded her, except for the "mutually" deeply in love Petyr Baelish.
...
Lysa suddenly grabbed Petyr tightly. "Petyr, think of something! You must have a way, right? I can't lose my son! Stannis will surely harm Little Robert!"
Petyr looked at Lysa, whose voice was choked with sobs and whose face was full of pleading, his own expression filled with reluctance.
Finally, under Lysa's expectant gaze, Petyr nodded as if he had just made some difficult decision.
...
...
Three days later, in Illyrio's manse.
Daenerys, her head of silver hair wrapped in a coarse cloth towel, stepped into a tub filled with hot water.
The bathwater was scalding hot, but Daenerys made no sound, for she liked this kind of heat. It made her feel clean.
Besides, Viserys often told her: people of House Targaryen are not afraid of heat. We are the blood of the Dragon, with fire burning in our veins.
After her cleansing bath, Daenerys combed her hair until it was like molten silver, then took floral perfume essence and lightly touched it to various parts of her body.
Next, Daenerys put on a purple silk gown, the color of which complemented her violet eyes. Daenerys slipped on gold-trimmed sandals and put on a gold bracelet inlaid with amethysts.
After she finished dressing, Daenerys looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror.
The silver-haired girl in the mirror was petite, timid, and lacked confidence.
Daenerys's small face showed a hint of sorrow. Recently, her brother had been busy trying to give her to a barbarian to trade for troops to win the Iron Throne.
Today, her brother wanted her to win the allegiance of a Half-wildling noble.
Daenerys felt like a commodity. She was very resistant in her heart, but she was afraid of awakening her brother's Dragon's Wrath.
A servant had already relayed Illyrio's message: the Half-wildling was already waiting in the courtyard, and she was to come out a little later.
According to Illyrio, this would invisibly enhance the Princess's prestige.
Daenerys did not understand what this "Princess's prestige" Illyrio spoke of was, but she knew she had to succeed today. Only then would Viserys not abandon her.
So what if he was a Half-wildling? Nothing in this world was more terrifying to her than being abandoned by her brother.
Daenerys took a deep breath, stood up, and surveyed her attire in the mirror once more.
Daenerys turned towards the door, straightened her small back, folded her hands over her lower abdomen, and slowly exhaled.
On Daenerys's perpetually timid little face, a trace of a resolute expression appeared.
Sunlight streamed in, elongating Daenerys's slender figure.
(end of chapter)