This was the first time that the Sorrowful Man had been hired to do a job in Westeros. Most of his jobs entailed dealing with magistrates and other rivals in the Free Cities. And yet, his first job on this continent was not going to be a simple one, for he was not killing any normal lord.
He had been contracted to strike at the dragons.
It had been a long time since his guild had had any dealings with the so-called blood of the dragon. The Targaryens had lost their ability to strike fear into Essos for a long time now, so there was little reason for any of the Free Cities to fear upsetting them. It was why his guild had no issue accepting the job in the first place. The reward was more than generous. They were more….practical compared to the Faceless Men.
Gold talked no matter where you were, after all.
There was a rumor going around that the Faceless Men were not accepting any jobs that targeted the Targaryens, but no one knew the validity of it.
The Sorrowful Man did not understand why that would be the case to be honest. The Faceless Men typically charged exuberant prices when dealing with high-profile targets like royalty, but to not accept the job at all? It made little sense, but he didn't bother thinking about it all that much. He only cared about his job.
He had been staying in King's Landing for some months now. The city had changed much from what he had been led to believe. What struck him the most were the dragons themselves. News of the dragons' return had reached Essos a couple of years ago from the words of sailors and traders, but many believed that the Iron Throne was spreading a lie in order to appear more threatening. Now, the Sorrowful Man had seen for himself just how true the rumors were.
The dragons were big, bigger than they had any right to be at their age. The Sorrowful Man had heard that it took longer for dragons to reach such sizes, but that did not seem to be the case here.
Was it the work of magic? The Sorrowful Man had seen many red priests in the city, and they held much knowledge. Westeros was not known to be kind to the red priests or their faith, but it seemed like the current Westerosi king was trying to convert his people to a new religion. He had seen many of the people of the city visit the red temple that had been built, so perhaps there was a massive conversion happening.
Perhaps he was looking too much into it, but his job had dragged on for far longer than he would have liked. Dragonstone was closed off to him, so all he could do was wait in King's Landing until an opportunity presented itself.
The fact that the dragons were back did not change anything for him. It just meant that he had to be more careful. Surely his guild would agree with him when he returned.
Who was his target? The young Targaryen princess of course. Ah, the thought of it all just made the Sorrowful Man want to weep. No doubt the kill was politically motivated, but he had no reason to wonder about the specifics. They did not concern him.
Truth be told, he had been told to aim for any of the children of the king, but he had decided to settle on the princess for several reasons.
He had studied the city well, and he knew the layout by heart. He knew where to hide in the outskirts of the city too. Sneaking into the Red Keep was more precarious than he had imagined. He did not want to get too close to the red priests or their magic, and the castle was swarming with them. So he kept his distance, weighing other options.
On this day, when he followed after one of the Kingsguard, he finally saw an opportunity that could be useful to him. He'd heard that the sole Targaryen princess often enjoyed riding in the outskirts of the city with a couple of her ladies. It was not the best spot to carry out an assassination, especially when there were so many potential witnesses, but the Sorrowful Man did not want to let this opening slip. He did not know how long his target would be in the city for. She often traveled to Dragonstone with her older brother, and the island was more guarded than even the Red Keep. Best to use what he had.
The Sorrowful Man fell into tears as he realized that he would not be able to express his sadness directly to the princess. To try and make amends, he chanted his apologies in his head over and over as he made sure to secure his two Valyrian steel daggers. They were his backup weapons.
His main tool was his magic.
The Sorrowful Man had once been nothing but a street performer when he was a child. His skills with fire magic had been weak and pitiful. But over time, they had grown, and now he could conjure more powerful flames.
Enough to kill a horse he'd reckon. Before, he was barely able to create a small stream of feeble flames, which he could not control all that well either.
He did not know what it was. It was almost like something in the world had changed, and his magic was all the better for it.
It would be perfect. The Targaryens thought of themselves as dragons, but that was nothing more than mere arrogance. He was curious to see if the princess could withstand his flames. He could also use them to scare her horse. Perhaps cause her to have a fall. With all the red priests in the city, it would be easy enough to pin the blame on one of them for the fire. He would use the trees for his escape, incinerating them so that no one who noticed where the flames came from could follow. It would give him enough time to leave the area.
He was already standing in the trees, hidden from sight from all the guards. He did not know where the Kingsguard was, but he did not think about it too much. Even if the knight were here, it would not make a difference.
There were several instances where the princess rode close enough to the trees that he could see the sweat on her body. He was calculating the right moment that she would pass so that he could unleash his flames without too many eyes on her. It was difficult as her escort was plenty.
The Sorrowful Man kept his patience even as he silently shed tears for his victim, silently asking for forgiveness.
Perhaps he was more emotional compared to some of the others, but he could not help it. He only took some amount of pleasure in what he was about to do. It really was unfortunate that he would not be able to savor the girl's fear as she met her end. This was the first princess that he was killing. Surely her fear would be more exciting than normal.
However, the princess never got near the trees again as the Sorrowful Man felt a jolt of pain shoot through his body. It took him a few seconds to realize that he was stabbed in the shoulder from the back, and this was only after the sword was roughly pulled from his body.
"What-?" The word quietly left his lips as he staggered forward, hitting the tree that he had been using for cover. He had enough wits to turn to see his attacker.
It was the missing Kingsguard, wearing that illustrious armor of his. The knight was glaring at him. He was not alone. Three red priests were with him.
But how? How had he been spotted? The Sorrowful Man had made sure that no one had tracked him.
"Your magic proved useful this once, red priests," the Kingsguard said as he continued to glare at the wounded Sorrowful Man. "Now surrender, assassin, lest I cut you down where you stand."
The blood on the knight's blade trickled to the ground. His own blood, from his wounded shoulder. The sight just made his pain vibrate through his body more.
But the knight's words. The Sorrowful Man almost cried again, only this time it was aimed at himself.
As he had feared. The red priests had been his undoing. Somehow, despite keeping his distance, they had still discovered him. Because of their flames no doubt. They were good at predicting things apparently. Or maybe something akin to that.
It did not matter. The end result was the same.
With his injury, the Sorrowful Man knew that he would not be able to escape.
There was only one option left.
It was a final act of desperation. An act meant to defy those that had caused his doom, for he would not allow himself to rot in some Westerosi prison for the rest of his life.
The Sorrowful Man let out one last cry as he unleashed all of his flames upon the world.
---
The Red Keep was under lockdown. No one could enter or leave, lest they were killed for treason.
After all, an assassination attempt on Princess Shaena had just been made.
The Kingsguard Prince Lewyn Martell, with the aid of the red priests, had been able to intercept the assassin before he could carry out his mission.
Because of it, the knight was wounded, having been on the receiving end of a fire mage and his magic, something which none had expected. In his final moments, the assassin had burned the area around him to make sure that he was not taken in alive.
The red priests that had accompanied Prince Lewyn had been able to shield the knight with their own magic just before the flames could critically wound him.
They could not stop the prince's face from being burned unfortunately, for the knight had stood the closest to the assassin and his flames. His right side had been singed, and while his eye was not lost he would forever be scarred. The red priests who reported to the king about what had happened informed him that the former Dornish prince was lucky that the fire mage was not more powerful. Otherwise, he could have lost his life.
Aerys did not look too troubled by the news. Instead, the king thanked the red priests for their service as they knelt before him in the throne room.
Lucerys, who stood with the rest of the small council, watched in silence. The atmosphere in the throne room was almost oppressive. When the king had called for them again, they did not expect that something like this had occurred.
An actual assassination attempt on one of the king's children. What was troubling was that it was no common cutthroat either. This meant that whoever was behind this plot had paid a hefty amount to carry it out.
Lucerys instantly suspected Tywin, but without any hard evidence he knew better than to utter the accusation out loud. While Tywin had been sidelined in his dynamic with the small council ever since the dragons had returned, he still possessed considerable power. Lucerys wasn't interested in making an enemy out of the lions without cause.
"Call the Lord Commander of the City Watch," Aerys barked out his orders to one of the other Kingsguard. "I want him to close down the city. If there are any more assassins, then I want them found immediately. Who knows how long that swine was in my city. He might not have been acting alone. Tell the Dragonguard to do the same. I don't want any of them to escape. Is that clear!?"
"Your Grace." The Kingsguard bowed before he ran out of the throne room to carry out his orders.
If Lucerys remembered correctly, the current leader of the City Watch was one of the Stokeworth brothers. One of them was the lord of their lands while the other had earned himself a powerful position in King's Landing. Unfortunately, both men were quite old. It would not be long before a replacement was needed. Why not a Velaryon?
But Lucerys was getting ahead of himself. Right now, he needed to focus on the current emergency.
"How could this happen?" Aerys was angry. That was clear for all to see. "An assassin in my own city? If not for the red priests, then my daughter could have been killed!"
Lucerys was curious to know why red priests had been accompanying the princess in the first place. Were they guards now too?
"Your Grace." Hallyne brought the focus to him as he said, "It seems Prince Rhaegal and Lady Melisandre were on the lookout for an attack for a while now. The red priests spoke of troubles whispered to them by the flames they worship. It was why Prince Rhaegal has had red priests accompany any member of the royal family who leaves the Red Keep."
"Visions?" Tywin sounded skeptical. "Do you mean to say that these red priests are capable of seeing the future?"
"The Lord of Light shares many treasures with those who honor him," said one of the red priests. There was no real malice in the man's voice. "Thanks to Prince Rhaegal, our connection to our lord has only gotten stronger."
"Haha! Yes! That's right! My son has done much indeed!" Aerys seemed delighted by what he was hearing. He went from angry to joyful at the drop of a hat. "Of course he foresaw this. Fire holds many powers."
"Why did the crown prince not share this information with the small council?" Tywin probed further. "The security of the royal family is imperative."
"Watch your words, Tywin." Aerys glared down at his friend. "The lion is not fit to question the dragon. Do you understand?"
Tywin's face twitched ever so slightly, but for the most part he maintained his calm.
Lucerys had to once again applaud the man for his act.
"The prince felt discretion was the wisest course of action," Hallyne said, smiling at Tywin. It was a very provocative smile. The pyromancer did not like the lion very much. "His Grace was told of the red priests."
"Hm, yes." Aerys scowled. "I thought it could not be true. That no one would be foolish enough as to attack us so brazenly like this. I was wrong. And my daughter almost paid the price."
No one had a response, for they all knew the truth of his words.
"What do we know about who's behind this?" Aerys threw the question at the small council, but only one of them had an answer for him.
Hallyne.
"The red priests suspect that he was one of the Sorrowful Men, your Grace. He was also a fire user. We do not know much else unfortunately, as the fool burned himself when he unleashed his magic. No doubt to prevent us from being able to identify him."
The Sorrowful Men. They were one of the most ancient guilds in all of Essos. They were largely considered less effective compared to the Faceless Men, but they were still well organized and capable. They originated from Qarth, so to come all the way to Westeros for a job was not cheap.
As Lucerys feared. Considerable gold must have been spent on this.
'Was it Tywin?'
Or was someone else behind this? It was not as though Princess Shaena's death would only benefit Tywin. There were many who were not happy with Prince Rhaegal marrying his sister. But who else could afford such an assassin?
Lucerys didn't voice his thoughts as Aerys looked angered. His whole body was shaking in rage.
"The fools. They think themselves safe because they are a distance away. They're too blind to see that a dragon's wrath must never be invoked lest you are prepared to lose it all."
The small council traded uneasy glances.
"Y-Your Grace." Pycelle was the brave one who spoke up. "What do you intend to do?"
"I will ponder over my response, but one thing is clear." Aerys stood from his throne as he glared down at the small council.
"This is a slight that will not be forgiven nor forgotten."
---
Rhaegal was angry.
Shaena did not understand what had happened until after she returned to the Red Keep. It was only then that she was told that someone had been waiting for her in the tourney grounds, ready to attack her and kill her.
Rhaegal only regretted that the fool had been smart enough to burn himself alive rather than allow himself to be captured. Otherwise, Rhaegal would have had a nice present to give Ancalagon.
Yes, very unfortunate indeed.
It was an attack that he had been half-expecting for almost a year now. Melisandre had come to him one day about whispers in the flame, premonitions which spoke of a dragon in danger. It was vague, but given his family's rise Rhaegal was not all too surprised that someone had finally decided to act against them.
If only it was done through more direct means.
The whispers from the flames were erratic, and the red priests had a hard time understanding them all. Apparently it was something that had become more common. Since the flames could not see him, every action that he took altered the whispers to some degree, making it all the more difficult to keep up with all the changes.
It was not known who the target was until the attempt was carried out, but the precautions Rhaegal took had still worked. The red priests were proving themselves to be more invaluable as time went on.
As angry as he was, Rhaegal had enough foresight to sense out Aegorax through his bond with the dragon. Thankfully, he could sense that the dragon was at ease in Summerhall, just lounging about. This meant that Rhaegar was safe. At least, for now. His father had already sent out word to Rhaegar to return immediately just in case, which Rhaegal agreed with. There was a member of the Kingsguard with him, along with red priests and the Dragonguard, but the fact that the assassin could wield magic was not something that Rhaegal had accounted for.
He should have known better.
'The world is changing.'
Rhaegal was safe from the dangers of fire, but his family was not. He had to keep that in mind moving forward.
"Who was behind this plot?" he all but demanded an answer from Melisandre as he rejoined the red woman in the Maidenvault.
"The flames speak of conspirators, but no real names," she said. "You have kept track of a few already, but they revealed nothing, did they not?"
The glass candles were useful. After tagging certain people, Rhaegal was able to keep track of them without issue no matter where they were. The only problem was being on the constant lookout. He could not always keep his focus on the glass candle when he was dealing with other issues. Malora helped with this as she had more free time on her hands, but she had not heard anything over the past year either. So it was either someone not in court, or they had been smart enough to not implicate themselves directly.
"I thought that if something happened, it would be when we were not in the city," Rhaegal said with a scowl. "But this is beyond the pale. I'm half-tempted to fly to Qarth and burn the city down myself."
Melisandre smiled at his words. "If that is your desire, then we will help you in your endeavors."
Of course she would say that.
As angry as he was, Rhaegal knew that he and Ancalagon could not make such a trip on their own. Not with how far Qarth was from Westeros. A dragon alone in that part of the world invited too many dangers. Besides, it was not the city itself that had targeted them….probably. Rather, it was the Sorrowful Men and whoever had hired them.
"There might still be danger," Melisandre warned. "Your brothers' celebrations-"
"The Lord Hand has deemed it necessary to host a tourney in their honor at Lannisport. My father has already accepted the invitation."
Rhaegal saw the ploy for what it was, but he was no longer concerned with Tywin and his petty schemes. That would change if he discovered something more. No, he had a bigger nuisance to go after right now.
"Contact the temples in the Free Cities," Rhaegal ordered. "While I might not be able to strike these fools directly, I want to send them a clear message."
It was time to see how far the red priests were willing to go for him.
"What is it that you require from us?" There was no hesitation from Melisandre.
"Fire and blood."
---
Shaena stared at her reflection as Ashara combed her hair. She was getting ready to have dinner with her family after a long day. Her brother said that he had a surprise for them, so she was quite curious.
Her hair was something Shaena took pride in. She had once heard Rhaegal comment how he preferred longer hair on women, so she decided to never cut hers too short. It suited her just fine to be honest, for she also enjoyed having her hair long.
Shaena thought it was weird for her brother to have such tastes, though. Didn't he keep his hair short? If he preferred longer hair, why not let his grow like Rhaegar's?
She didn't say anything because she didn't want Rhaegal to know that she overheard him talking about women to that damn squid who was out at sea at the moment. Shaena heard many things in the Red Keep that she probably wasn't supposed to hear to be honest. Despite being a princess, sneaking around the halls of the castle was easy to do, and a lot of the servants had loose tongues.
Those servants were a lot more crude when they didn't think she was listening. It was funny.
Shaena supposed it might be weird for her to be thinking about her hair after an assassination attempt, but honestly she still couldn't wrap her head around it. Especially after she didn't get to see anything. She only saw the aftermath.
Her mother told her to pay her respects to Prince Lewyn for his efforts, which she did. Beyond that, her father and Rhaegal ordered her to remain in her room until after the situation was assessed.
Shaena wasn't sure what they were doing, but if it meant more time away from the septa than she was all for it.
"Do you want to talk about today?" Ashara asked, her tone gentle as she continued to comb her long hair.
"No." Shaena didn't. But then again, she was a little curious about something. "Did you see anything, Ashara?"
"Thankfully not. I'm not all that interested in seeing an assassin face-to-face."
"That's a bit boring."
"You shouldn't joke about that."
"I'm not," Shaena denied it. "Besides, I'm not worried. I could have burned him with Azurax. No one could stop me then."
"But you weren't with your dragon, were you?"
Ashara's words made Shaena pout.
"That's only because I can't bring her with me everywhere I go. But I would if father would let me!"
Ashara smiled down at her. "Shaena, I don't think Azurax can fit in your room."
True.
"She grew too fast."
"If she hadn't, then you wouldn't have been able to ride her."
That was also true.
"Ugh, you talk like my brother sometimes," Shaena complained. "How am I supposed to say anything to you?"
Ashara hummed. "Hmm. Well, rather than trying to talk about dragons, you could tell me how you really feel about today."
She was still focused on that?
"I already told you. It's not like I saw anything. You didn't. Elia probably didn't either."
The same was probably true for the rest of her ladies. They had been lounging in the field, gossiping or whatever. It was annoying to be around them sometimes.
"Maybe you could talk to her," Ashara suggested. Shaena saw her shrug in the reflection. "She was more shaken up by it than me."
Was she? Shaena hadn't paid too much attention to Elia on the ride back to the Red Keep.
Regardless, her answer was the same.
"I don't want to."
Ashara tilted her head. "Are you still worried about her? Fret not, her schemes led nowhere. She's not going to marry your brother."
The older Shaena got, the more honest she could be with Ashara about her feelings toward her brother and others.
Shaena knew about Elia's current situation. Rather than marry Rhaegal or any of her brothers, she had been promised to someone else already.
Shaena wouldn't have let her marry Rhaegal anyway. She wouldn't stand for it.
Shaena sighed. "It's not that. I just don't want to talk to her. She only wanted to be friends to get close to Rhaegal anyway, so it doesn't change anything. Why would I want to talk to her if I don't have to?"
Ashara looked amused. "Isn't that true for the others?"
"They just want my favor." Shaena's face scrunched up. "I think the flower might be interested in Rhaegar. A safer choice for her."
She had other brothers too now. She didn't care who they married.
Ashara sighed. "You should try to use their names even when in private."
Shaena groaned. It was rather unladylike of her, but she did not care right now.
"You sound like the septa right now."
"You are the princess and future queen. You know your behavior will impact your brother."
Shaena pursed her lips. "That's too boring. Why should I care what they think? I'm a Targaryen. I can do what I want."
Ashara's hands stopped. "Do you really think that?"
"You don't?" Shaena looked back at her.
"I think it's important to know when to compromise."
"Compromise?" Shaena didn't like the sound of that.
"Yes." Ashara was still gentle with her as she rested a hand on her head. "You might be a dragon rider and a future queen, but you cannot do everything by yourself."
"That's why I have my brother."
Ashara's lips twitched. No doubt she was trying to hold herself back from smiling.
"True, but the realm is too big for the two of you alone. I think having connections is important too. How else do you think your father was able to keep the realm stable without the dragons?"
Shaena hadn't thought about it to be honest. She knew that the Baratheons were cousins of hers, but Stannis never talked much whenever they saw one another. He was currently on Dragonstone but was supposed to join them in King's Landing in a few days.
Stannis had an older brother, Robert, but Shaena had only ever seen him once. He was loud and more interested in fighting, so it wasn't like she got to know him.
There was also the Lannisters, but Shaena had heard that her father didn't favor them as much anymore.
"Too many people." Shaena couldn't be bothered to keep thinking about it all. "Tell me something, Ashara. If you were queen, would you remember all of this?"
Her question seemed to catch the older girl off guard.
"Me? Queen?" Ashara shook her head while smiling. "I'd much rather not think about such a thing. It is….a big responsibility."
"But you like Rhaegal, don't you?" Shaena didn't know why she asked Ashara that. The question just came to her. "If you were with him, then you would have to be queen."
Ashara stayed silent for a few moments while Shaena turned back to the mirror. In the reflection she saw how Ashara looked. It was an odd expression. Almost like she was lost. How weird.
"He is already promised to you," Ashara replied after a few more moments. She returned to combing her hair, but Shaena could tell that Ashara was uncomfortable now.
Something in Shaena told her to keep going.
"He likes you too." Shaena's eyes studied Ashara's reaction in the reflection as she once again stopped combing her hair. "I think that means he might consider making you his queen."
"You shouldn't make such jokes, Shaena."
"Hehe. It's funny, though." Shaena was enjoying watching the usual graceful Ashara squirm a little. The fact that she was the one to do so made it all the more exciting. "I would burn anyone who tries to get in my way, so it doesn't really matter."
She said the last part flippantly, because it was how she felt. She did not care to entertain the idea of anyone trying to steal her brother away from her. Elia had been lucky that she had enough sense to never overreach.
Perhaps the next person wouldn't be so lucky.
Shaena didn't miss the way Ashara looked after their small talk. It was similar to before, only now the older girl looked…tense? Was that the right word? It was hard for Shaena to put it into words, but there was something different in Ashara's expression for sure.
It caused her eyes to narrow in thought as they later walked out of her chamber together.
Rhaegal's scent on Ashara nagged her once more.
---
The one known as Varys knew much. He also knew very little, something he was starting to understand firsthand.
Many believed that he had been born in Lys, but this was not the case. He had been hidden away in the Free City after the death of his father, true, but he had not been born there. In some ways, when he was younger, Varys had regarded Lys as his home. It had provided him with stability and comfort for a time, so it was only natural. Of course, that changed when he was sold like a common slave and forced to travel to many parts of the world. He had been promised differently, that he would be raised well, but things changed quickly after the unexpected deaths of his protectors.
He was forced to fend for himself. He had to, because he had someone he needed to protect as well.
It was hard for Varys to come to terms with everything that had happened in his life. Many things had been out of his control. Moves had been made by others that had dictated most of his life. For many years, survival had been Varys' main concern above all else.
All that changed as he grew older.
Varys knew more. He understood more. He realized that there was a much bigger purpose for him out there than to remain a beggar in the streets after he was abandoned for a third time.
His friendship with Illyrio Mopatis was one of the first true choices that Varys had made in his life, and it set him up to be where he was today. The two men were friends, but they were friends with shared ambitions. Illyrio was fine with merely accumulating more wealth for himself in Pentos, but Varys saw more potential in his friend. After all, Varys would need someone to do what he could not, fruitless as he was.
Illyrio's first marriage had been something of a problem despite the prestige that it brought, but lady luck smiled on Varys as the woman had recently died some weeks ago. It was not a marriage of love but rather of ambition, as she had been the daughter of a powerful magistrate in Pentos. Her father was the cousin of the current Prince of Pentos in fact. Such a union would not have been possible years ago when Illyrio was still but a poor bravo. However, thanks to Varys and Illyrio's own cunning, the two had risen far beyond their humble beginnings.
Varys would give his friend the pretense to grieve, for he had his own plans to enact. He might have left Lys many years ago, but he made sure to keep in touch with the affairs of the Free City in the years that followed after he was able. As unlucky as he had been, his charge had fared much better than he, something he was forever thankful for.
Varys had learned the value of information years ago. He had spent much of his attention building a network of informants that could be useful to him. Informants that would only be loyal to him. Betrayal was common in this world, and Varys wanted to eliminate that possibility.
Young orphans were invaluable in this endeavor.
His plans were still in the beginning stages, but Varys had begun to turn his gaze to the west, to Westeros. It was there that his ambitions were going to be realized one day.
Or so he had hoped, but the more he learned the more troubled Varys became.
The Targaryen dynasty had been plagued with troubles for many years now. What had once been a feared house of dragon riders were now nothing more than a shadow of themselves. In recent years, the royal family had crumbled to only a couple of children.
Now they were multiplying again. Worse still, Varys was able to confirm the one rumor that he thought was an impossibility: dragons. Those damned Targaryens had dragons again. Not only that, but they were quickly strengthening their power base. If left alone for too long, who knew what they could accomplish in the coming years.
While Varys did not have the eyes and ears in Westeros that he did in Essos, he was able to see the signs for himself. The Targaryens were dealing with an internal power struggle of sorts. They did not have the support of all the lords.
Perhaps that could be exploited?
The key to this resurgence seemed to be the crown prince himself. Varys held a certain distaste over magic after what he had been forced to endure, so he thought it was only poetic that the crown prince was magical himself.
'My one true adversary.'
It was distasteful, but Varys knew that he was going to have to ingratiate himself with the crown prince if he was to ever establish a foothold on Westeros.
This was not going well either.
Varys had made a name for himself in Pentos and beyond as a useful broker of information, and he had used his connections to spread that fact to Westeros.
It had not made the impact that he had hoped it would.
What little he had managed to gather from the king's court said that not even a mention of his name had been brought to the king's attention. Or perhaps the king had learned of Varys and his skills but ultimately did not care. There was already a spymaster in the king's court apparently, so maybe Varys did not stand out as much in comparison.
Or maybe he was being too hasty. Varys knew the value of waiting. Those who rushed were often the architects of their own demise.
The Blackfyres came to mind. Poor fools who had always rushed, and where had that led them?
Varys had to be different.
Still, he was hitting an obstacle that he had not accounted for. And for the moment, he was truly stuck.
'I need more information.'
Perhaps it wouldn't do to just continue building his network in Essos. He had envisioned waiting until he was settled in Westeros before spinning his threads on the continent, but something told him that he was making a mistake by taking this approach.
'These are strange times.'
Varys would start to truly understand how strange the new board was in the coming months, when his ears picked up rumors of the fires started in Qarth. At first, it seemed irrelevant to his plans, but then more pieces started to fall into place.
It only then dawned on him that the Targaryens' reach extended far longer than he had anticipated.
It called into question the safety of his own plans, but Varys had to reassure himself that he was not dead yet.
He would adapt, as he always did, to ensure the black dragon's return.