Inside the Great Hall of the Sealord's Palace, magnificent frescoes upon the high ceiling depicted the many legends of the Secret City.
Viserys Targaryen tilted his head back, studying the breathtaking artwork with genuine interest.
Braavos operated on principles of religious freedom, so these murals didn't depict gifts from gods, but rather the struggles and triumphs of the Braavosi people themselves.
The city didn't lack for stone. There were perhaps twenty monumental structures in Braavos, and the Sealord's Palace was one of them—King's Landing, by comparison, only had three. Architecture represented wealth and national power, and Braavos lived up to its reputation as the premier Free City.
This was Viserys's first time in the Sealord's Palace, an opportunity secured through the Black Pearl's connections. However, given his growing reputation, the Sealord had likely tacitly approved his presence.
The first painting on the ceiling depicted the sunless volcanic mines of Valyria, where countless slaves toiled in unspeakable misery.
The next, and most crucial scene, showed the Moonsingers in their silver-white robes offering sacred prayers, leading the fugitive slaves to discover the great lagoon of the Secret City.
Then came the Unmasking of Uthero a century later, revealing Braavos to the world. The purple-hulled fleet sailing unimpeded through the Shivering Sea and the Summer Sea. The wars of the Century of Blood, where the Sealords opposed Volantis, eventually leading a grand alliance to crush the Volantene power.
The murals were vivid, imbued with a sense of epic romance.
The borders were decorated with images of mermaids, krakens, Leviathan whales, and sea dragons.
"How do you find it here?" asked the Black Pearl, appearing in the small private booth, dressed in a fresh outfit.
She wore a low-cut gown of dark yellow silk that contrasted stunningly with her polished brown skin. Her black hair was caught in a net of spun gold, and a necklace of black jade and gold rested against her full bosom.
Even inside the Sealord's Palace, where a thousand courtesans might gather, her beauty was striking.
The Black Pearl wasn't "seductive" in a cheap way; she possessed the youthful charm and classy elegance of a top-tier courtesan.
"Not bad. The dome is impressive, and your figure isn't half bad either," Viserys critiqued playfully, glancing at her chest.
Viserys wore a black doublet and held a silver half-mask in his hand.
"You really are rude," the Black Pearl scolded with feigned anger. A subtle, captivating fragrance wafted from her—an expensive perfume that teased the senses.
"If I tell the truth, you get unhappy. But really, this place is nice."
"More than just nice. Every Sealord has renovated this hall; every inch is worth its weight in gold," she laughed, covering her mouth. In her other hand, she held a mask.
Her mask was even smaller than Viserys's half-mask—it was essentially an eye mask. It looked less like a disguise and more like a fashion statement, or perhaps something for the bedroom. It was crafted from black jade and gold, incredibly ornate. A massive black pearl set in the center left no doubt as to her identity.
"Have a drink," she said, raising a cup of hot lemon water.
The table was set with fruit platters—Dornish blood oranges, melons from the Reach, and plums. Viserys took a sip of the hot lemon drink. Since Braavos was far north, melons, lemons, and oranges were expensive imports; the Sealord had clearly spared no expense.
"I have the finale performance today. The Black Pearl must sing, and I cannot be outdone, so I can't afford any mishaps," she explained. "Just a little lemon tea for me, no wine."
"I wish you a triumphant opening," Viserys said.
"I will win. The Black Pearl never loses. Though I do hate you a little—you've given this glory to the Nightingale and the Lady Blade as well. If I had you tied up on my ship, this glory would belong solely to the Black Pearl," she joked, expressing her dissatisfaction with a grin.
"Don't be greedy, woman. Viserys has plenty of inventory left, provided the price is right. Lately, I need dragon bone. As much as possible," Viserys said, looking at her.
He had been burning through his resources to boost his stats. Although he hadn't run out yet, he was consuming them rapidly.
"That's not much of a problem. What do you need so much dragon bone for? Building a dragonbone bow? Never mind, here's to a happy partnership." She set down her cup and clinked it against his.
She didn't think much of it. Everyone knew Targaryens had an obsession with dragons; some madmen even fantasized about drinking wildfire to transform into one.
"I must go, my handsome silver-haired traveler. This masquerade will be exceptionally brilliant. Tonight, everyone will hear the name of the Silver Traveler. The glory is yours, Viserys."
"And the glory is yours, Black Pearl," Viserys replied, engaging in their mutual admiration society.
Braavos's biggest festival was the Unmasking of Uthero, a ten-day celebration held every year. During those days, people feasted in masks. On the tenth day, at the stroke of midnight when the Titan roared, all revelers would remove their masks in unison.
Tonight's masquerade wasn't the Great Festival, but since it was organized by the Sealord and packed with celebrities, it was equally spectacular.
"This booth is full of pretty girls. Don't make a fool of yourself if you drink too much."
"As if," Viserys scoffed. "I don't make a fool of myself in front of you, let alone them."
"Remember what I told you, Viserys. Braavos is a dangerous city, and you've been in the limelight far too much lately. 'The Bloodthirsty Violet Swordsman'—you've been marked by many swordsmen looking to make a name for themselves. For the sake of your dragon blood, I don't want those lunatics damaging your pretty face," she said seriously.
"Thank you for your concern, Black Pearl. You are my friend. But a man can only choose one path, and mine will be paved with blood and wailing," Viserys said frankly, looking at her exquisite face.
To cope with the brutal future, he had to become a dangerous killer. A Water Dancer who didn't see blood wasn't a true Water Dancer.
"Fine," the Black Pearl dropped the subject. All men must die, but all men have desires. Power was a madness more intoxicating than beauty.
"Wait here. I've ensured that the people dining with you are trustworthy. It will be a sweet night." She turned and left.
As a top courtesan, she was required to perform at major Braavosi events.
Viserys stood up and donned his silver mask.
Looking down from the second-floor balcony, the main hall was packed with masked figures. Since the guests were dignitaries, their masks were luxurious—gold, jade, silver, adorned with gems, weirwood, ebony, and exotic feathers.
Musicians and singers were ready, playing triumphant preludes. Heralds announced the segments of the ceremony. Thanks to the Black Pearl's invitation, Viserys had access to the VIP booths on the second floor.
The Black Pearl moved through the crowd like a butterfly through flowers, her pearl handmaidens trailing behind her. In this setting, she was in her element, the center of attention wherever she went, chatting and laughing effortlessly.
Amidst the joy and laughter, she headed backstage.
Besides the Black Pearl, Viserys spotted others. Syrio Forel, the former First Sword, was wandering the first floor. The Justiciar, Sypha, was also there, maintaining order.
Viserys didn't care much for the Braavosi upper class. No matter where you went, the elite were all about eating, drinking, playing, and power struggles.
The main course hadn't been served yet, just fruit and appetizers, so Viserys prepared to eat his fill.
"Silence!"
Thousands of voices hushed as all eyes turned to the man on the high dais.
He wore dark brown robes and a purple mask, flanked by a strutting swordsman.
"That must be the Sealord," Viserys thought.
The First Sword beside the Sealord looked tall and dangerous—currently the strongest in Braavos. Retired First Swords like Syrio naturally dropped in the rankings.
"I thank you all for coming, at my invitation, to celebrate the prosperity of Braavos," the Sealord began. His voice was clear and resonated through the hall. "With such a bountiful feast, let us wish for this fortune to continue endlessly."
"The ancestors of Braavos fled the slavery of the Dragonlords, enduring untold hardships to come here. Freedom is the soul of the Secret City. Here, I thank the holy Moonsingers, the Sealords who cleared the thorns before us, and the subjects and guests of Braavos who strive alongside us..."
Viserys thought the speech wasn't bad; it showed the depth of the Moonsingers and the old Sealord families.
"Long live Freedom! Long live Braavos!" The Sealord raised his hand.
"For Freedom!"
"Long live Freedom!" The guests cheered.
"May you all share a pleasant evening." The speech ended, and the celebration began.
"Act One: The Song of Braavos. Written by... Performed by the Blue Lantern Troupe."
To Viserys's surprise, the first act was a commemoration of Braavos's birth. The dramatic arts in Braavos were highly developed and kept up with current trends. Viserys had even heard of plays dramatizing Rhaegar's love triangle.
He had little interest in the play, so he returned to the booth to eat some appetizers. The performance felt like chanted verse, which then transitioned into musical performances.
"Song: Five Hundred Miles. Author: The Silver Traveler. Singer: 'The Lady Blade'."
Hearing his alias announced, Viserys ran back to the railing.
It seemed the Lady Blade had truly become a star. Several beautiful female Water Dancers performed on stage while the Lady Blade, wearing a white jade eye mask, began to sing.
The song fit the atmosphere of Braavos perfectly. The sea was cruel, and those who made their living from it understood the weight of home.
"A hundred miles, a hundred miles..." Many people hummed along.
The song had been a sensation lately, though no one knew who the Silver Traveler actually was.
"Such an amazing songwriter, how have we never heard of him before?"
"Yes, it's a truly good song. I heard many Merchant Princes want to meet the author, but no one has seen him in the flesh..."
---
"Song: Lovers of the Lagoon. Author: The Silver Traveler. Singer: 'The Nightingale'."
When the announcer called the Silver Traveler's name a second time, the crowd's interest spiked.
The Nightingale's clear, graceful voice rang out, delivering a moving rendition of the song.
---
"Song: When You Are Old. Author: The Silver Traveler. Singer: 'The Black Pearl' and her handmaidens."
The Black Pearl's appearance pushed the program to its climax. Although she could sing, she rarely performed. Clearly, this was a face-giving gesture to the Sealord.
Seeing the young Black Pearl acting so deep and soulful made Viserys want to laugh.
But her fawning admirers and fans were ecstatic, acting as if they were hearing music from the heavens.
The name "Silver Traveler" rang out for the third time, with three different top courtesans singing his songs.
In the Hall of the Sealord, Viserys was truly riding the wind to the highest heights, his name resounding through the Secret City.
Even if no one knew this wild songwriter before, after today, the alias would leap into the first rank of fame.
His "Silver Traveler" persona was already somewhat known, but this was a much bigger stage. The entire elite class was listening to his name.
After the beautiful singing ended, every guest was dying to know who the Silver Traveler really was.
Viserys smiled faintly.
This, he thought, is what it means to be a superstar.