Chapter 26 — The Onion Knight's Shock
Shireen had never expected this.
Not only could Drogon understand the Common Tongue—
he could actually write.
She clearly remembered reading that dragons were highly intelligent, capable of grasping human speech.
But never—not once—had any book suggested a dragon could put quill to parchment.
"I… I still don't know your name," she asked quickly, now that writing was possible.
Since the secret was out, Drogon no longer bothered to hide his abilities.
He fluttered onto Shireen's small desk, took her quill between his claws, dipped it in ink, and scratched out two crooked letters:
Drogon
Then, beneath it, he wrote another message:
Don't tell anyone.
Shireen nodded solemnly—almost ceremonially.
"I won't. I swear I won't tell a soul."
She understood without being told: not just his name—even seeing him must remain a secret.
A dragon returning after more than a century would shake the world to its foundations.
And many would kill to possess him.
And Drogon wasn't just a dragon—he was smart.
Looking at the wobbly letters scrawled by his small claws, Shireen no longer found them ugly at all.
Moments ago she had laughed inwardly at the sloppy handwriting—never imagining it had been written by a dragon.
She knew firsthand how hard it was to teach someone to read and write—she had spent years teaching the Onion Knight, and he still struggled.
Yet this little dragon could already write.
"Can greyscale… really be cured?"
Shireen asked again, unable to stop herself.
She remembered too well the whispered predictions that she wouldn't survive childhood.
And although her father had exhausted every healer across the realm to halt the disease, the stony skin on her face would never fade.
It had stolen her childhood—kept her locked indoors—kept her mother's eyes full of fear and shame.
Drogon wrote again:
It can be cured. Just not yet.
Shireen didn't press further.
If it could be cured someday—even far in the future—she was willing to wait.
Drogon could guess her thoughts easily.
She could wait—
but her father couldn't.
He dipped the quill once more:
Where is the Onion Knight?
Shireen blinked in surprise.
Drogon even knew about Davos?
Her voice softened with sadness.
"Father said he was a traitor. He's in the dungeons."
Can you visit him?
Drogon wrote on a fresh sheet of parchment.
Shireen bit her lip.
"Ser Cortnay, the jailer, drinks a lot.
When he's on duty… I can go to the cells."
Drogon nodded and wrote again:
I'll write a letter for him.
Give it to him—
but you must promise not to read what's inside.
Shireen hesitated only a moment.
Her curiosity burned—what message could be so important she wasn't allowed to see it?
But she straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin, and said:
"I… promise."
Her voice was small, but firm.
Shireen had no idea that her father was no longer the same man who once traveled across the realm seeking healers to cure her greyscale.
That loving father was gone.
Now he was a duke consumed by ambition, blinded by the Red Woman, obsessed with the Iron Throne.
If Shireen ever learned that her beloved father would someday burn her alive…
it would break her.
No ten-year-old girl should ever have to bear such cruelty.
After promising not to read the letter, Drogon spread out a fresh parchment to write to the Onion Knight—
only to freeze when he suddenly remembered a problem:
He didn't even know the man's actual name.
He stopped writing and asked Shireen.
Once she answered, she turned her back on her own so she wouldn't accidentally read anything—because she knew Drogon didn't want her to see it.
Drogon wrote:
"Ser Davos,
Soon Stannis will burn Shireen's uncle.
And after that… he will burn Shireen.
If you wish to save her, find a way to take her off Dragonstone.
When the time is right, I will contact you.
Someone will receive her.
And you will not remain in the dungeon much longer."
Davos Seaworth feared no punishment for himself.
He had risked everything to smuggle away Robert's bastard son—all for what he believed was right.
And he cherished Shireen like a daughter.
If anyone would move heaven and earth to save her, it was him.
Drogon rolled up the parchment and asked Shireen for a cord.
She tied the seal gently with her small hands.
Shireen's voice trembled.
"Are you… leaving again?"
She didn't want him to go.
She had never had a friend before.
Drogon gave her treats, listened to her, and promised that someone could heal her face.
If that wasn't a friend—what was?
Drogon nodded, flapped his crimson wings in farewell, and leapt into the sky.
She watched him shrink into a tiny black dot.
It still hurt… but not as painfully as the first time he left.
Even if he didn't say when he'd return, Shireen somehow knew he would.
She looked down at the sealed scroll in her hands.
She could easily break the knot and read it—Drogon would never know.
And she knew the contents almost certainly involved her.
But she held the urge back.
When the jailer Cortnay took over the dungeon shift—drunk as always—Shireen headed straight there.
Five minutes later she arrived.
Cortnay was already snoring loudly.
Shireen stopped before the bars.
Davos looked worn—hair and beard now streaked with white, burn scars still raw.
Seeing the princess, he hurried over, assuming it was another reading lesson.
But Shireen didn't pull out a book.
Instead, she passed him the scroll.
"Princess… what is this?" Davos asked, puzzled.
"Someone… asked me to give it to you. I don't know what it says," she lied gently.
Who in the world would send him a letter through the princess?
Utterly confused, Davos untied the cord and unrolled it.
Weeks of struggling through reading with Shireen now proved useful—
he couldn't read every word, but he understood enough.
His chest heaved.
His hands trembled.
"Princess… who gave this to you?" he asked, voice shaking.
The message inside was horrifying.
Stannis—his king—would burn his own daughter.
"Ser Davos… he asked me not to tell anyone about him. I promised.
What does the letter say?"
If she asked Davos to read it aloud, that wasn't technically breaking her promise… right?
The look in Davos's eyes told him she hadn't read it.
The seal hadn't been tampered with, and she could have read it on the way here.
She had kept her promise.
She trusted the mysterious writer completely.
The contents seemed insane—until his mind connected the dots.
He had recently heard from a captured pirate captain that Stannis labeled anyone who opposed the Red Woman a "Dark Servant", sacrificing them in flames whenever she needed visions.
After losing King's Landing, Stannis had become utterly obedient to her.
It wasn't impossible anymore.
And Davos—who had lost his own son—had come to love the gentle princess like family.
He would sooner die than let her be led to the flames.
"Princess… do you trust the one who sent this?"
Shireen nodded without hesitation.
"Of course I do.
He said he'll find someone who can fix my face."
Davos stared at her for a long moment.
She looked innocent and sweet—but far from foolish.
She knew exactly who treated her kindly… and who did not.
And the instant he saw that certainty in her eyes, Davos made his decision.
He would save her.
Even if it cost him his life.