The air in Astapor had changed.
The cloying stench of rotting corpses, cheap spices, and despair was gone.
In its place was a scent of vitality.
Daenerys walked along the wide avenue. She had changed into a simple linen dress that allowed for easy movement, her silver-gold hair braided and hanging down her back.
The bloodstains in the Plaza of Punishment had long since been washed away, replaced by hundreds of makeshift furnaces that had risen from the ground.
The roaring flames painted the sky a vibrant orange-red, and the clang of hammers striking anvils merged into a stirring symphony.
Thousands of smiths, stripped to the waist, their bronze muscles glistening in the firelight, were forging new armor for their protectors.
At the other end of the street, long lines formed in front of temporary relief stations.
The freed slaves held rough clay bowls in their hands, their faces no longer masks of hollow numbness.
In their eyes was confusion, unease, but mostly, hope.
A female slave took a steaming bowl of barley porridge from an Unsullied soldier. She blew on it carefully before handing it to the child beside her, who barely reached her thigh.
The little boy devoured it wolfishly.
Watching him, a smile blossomed on the woman's face.
"Mhysa..."
She whispered the name that was being chanted by countless people in the dark corners of Astapor.
Mhysa, in Old Ghiscari, means "Mother."
They didn't know the Dragonlord's name, nor did they know the Queen's name.
But they knew that the man who rode the three-headed dragon and the woman with hair like moonlight had given them new life.
They were the "Mhysa" of all free men.
Watching this scene, a warm current surged through Daenerys's heart.
This was what she wanted.
Not fear bought with fire and blood, but love earned through mercy and respect.
"My Lady."
Missandei had quietly appeared at her side, her delicate face carrying a composure beyond her years.
She was no longer the trembling slave translator, but Daenerys's most capable assistant. She was now responsible for managing the settlement of the women and children in the city.
"Our census is preliminarily complete."
Missandei handed over a scroll of parchment.
"There are currently two hundred seventy-three thousand, four hundred free folk in the city."
Daenerys took the parchment. The dense rows of numbers made her dizzy.
She had never imagined that one day she would need to deal with such matters.
She wasn't good at this.
And with a total population of nearly three hundred thousand, one misstep could lead to total collapse and ruin.
"Where is Lynn?"
"The Lord is discussing city defenses with Ser Jorah," Missandei replied.
Just then, Jorah Mormont walked hurriedly from the distance, his face grave.
He stopped before Daenerys and bowed.
"Ships have arrived in the bay."
"Merchant ships?" Daenerys asked.
The reconstruction of Astapor required massive amounts of supplies.
Jorah shook his head.
"The sails bear the Harpy sigils of Meereen and Yunkai."
Daenerys's heart sank.
---
The top floor hall of the Great Pyramid had been cleared out.
The tapestries made of human skin and the chairs carved from human bone had all been burned.
Lynn sat in the main seat—a simple chair made of hard ironwood.
Standing before him were two lavishly dressed men.
One was obese, wearing a purple silk tokar, reeking of heavy perfume, with jeweled rings on all ten fingers.
He was the Great Master Grazdan mo Eraz from Meereen.
The other was as thin as a bamboo pole, wearing a golden robe. His beady eyes, like a rat's, flickered with shrewd light.
He was the Wise Master Magzarko Zaqqa from Yunkai.
They were envoys sent by the other two city-states of Slaver's Bay.
Behind them stood a dozen fully armed guards, hands resting on the hilts of their arakhs, expressions arrogant.
"We have heard that some... unpleasant events have occurred in Astapor."
Grazdan of Meereen spoke first.
His Common Tongue was thick with an accent, as if he had a mouthful of hot oil.
His contemptuous gaze swept over Grey Worm standing behind Lynn, and the fully armed Unsullied in the hall.
"A group of baseborn slaves, incited by a madman, dared to raise their butcher knives and kill their benevolent masters."
His gaze finally landed on a figure chained to a chair in the corner of the hall.
Viserys.
He had been cleaned up and dressed in decent clothes.
But his pale, twisted face and his crippled hands clearly announced his current plight.
He was the target Lynn had set up to draw all the fire.
"The Mad King of House Targaryen lives up to his name," Magzar of Yunkai sneered, his voice hissing.
"His father burned King's Landing, and he has lit an even bigger fire in Astapor."
"Truly impressive."
Lynn lifted the wine goblet on the table and took a sip.
"Did you two Masters come all this way just to mourn the old order of Astapor?"
His voice was calm.
"We came to seek an explanation," Grazdan stepped forward, his massive belly nearly bumping the table.
"And a solution."
"Explanation?" Lynn smiled.
"The explanation is that a madman incited a group of slaves."
"Then, I helped you deal with this madman and quelled the rebellion."
"Is that not clear enough?"
"Quelled?" Magzar's laugh grew shriller.
"You call this quelled?"
He pointed out the window at the free men working and the Good Masters' mansions being demolished.
"You released all the slaves, absorbed the elite Unsullied, and turned this city into your personal barracks!"
"You call this quelled?"
"Don't take us for fools, Westerosi!"
Grazdan's face darkened.
"We know what you want!"
"You want to use this laughable trick to shake the foundation of all Slaver's Bay!"
The atmosphere in the hall instantly became tense.
Jorah Mormont and Grey Worm stepped forward simultaneously, hands on their swords and spears.
They didn't care about guest rights. If Lynn gave the order, they would slaughter everyone here.
"Foundation?"
A cool voice came from behind Lynn.
Daenerys had walked up to Lynn's side without anyone noticing.
She looked at the two arrogant Masters. Her beautiful violet eyes held no fear, only disgust.
"Your foundation is built on the blood of infants and the bones of the innocent."
"Such a foundation should have been toppled long ago."
Grazdan and Magzar were stunned.
They hadn't expected this Targaryen girl, who looked as fragile as a vase, to dare contradict them in public.
"Does a whore who sells her body for status have a place to speak here?"
Grazdan insulted her bluntly in Ghiscari.
Daenerys's face turned icy instantly.
Lynn slammed his wine goblet onto the table.
Bang!
The crisp sound made everyone's heart skip a beat.
"It seems the lesson of Astapor wasn't enough to teach you how to respect my people."
Lynn stood up slowly. His tall figure cast a suffocating shadow.
"You want a solution? Fine, I'll give you one."
His gaze swept over the two Masters, whose expressions had shifted slightly.
"From today on, Astapor is a Free City."
"We will trade with any city-state willing to trade as equals, but we will never deal with slave traders."
"As for you..."
Lynn sneered.
"Either open your gates, free all your slaves, and join us."
"Or..."
"Wait for your cities to be burned to ash from the inside by angry slaves, just like Astapor yesterday."
"Are you declaring war on us?!"
Grazdan shook with rage.
"I am simply stating a fact."
Lynn walked up to him, looking him calmly in the eye.
"Slavery is a thing of the past."
"Do you think you can challenge all of Slaver's Bay with a bunch of mud-legged peasants who just picked up weapons?"
Magzar let out a strange, owl-like laugh.
"Naive!"
"We will cut off all your trade routes!"
"You will have no grain, no iron, no salt!"
"I will watch this so-called Free City of yours turn into a true city of the dead amidst famine and plague!"
"We will blockade the entire bay!"
Grazdan added viciously.
"Your army, your people, will eat each other in despair!"
"Perhaps then, our benevolent Meereenese legions can consider entering to help you... restore order."
This was a naked threat.
Jorah Mormont's face turned incredibly grim.
A blockade of the bay would be fatal for Astapor, which had just been through the fires of war and needed to be rebuilt from scratch.
The grain in the city wouldn't last long. The population was simply too large.
But Lynn smiled.
"Blockade?"
He walked to the floor-to-ceiling window of the hall and pushed it open.
Hot wind, mixed with smoke from the distant smithies, rushed in.
"You are welcome to try."
"I am ready anytime."
Lynn looked up at the azure sky and gave a long whistle.
A second later.
A dragon roar that resounded through the clouds came from the horizon!
Winter's sun-blotting silhouette appeared over the pyramid.
It circled, its three massive heads looking down curiously at the humans below, who looked like ants.
The terrifying dragon-fear, cold enough to freeze the soul, instantly enveloped the hall.
Grazdan and Magzar turned pale as ghosts.
The guards behind them were so scared their legs gave way, dropping their arakhs with a clatter.
"Your fleet will make for excellent target practice."
Lynn turned around, a playful smile on his face.
"Winter hasn't had much of an appetite lately. Perhaps a change of taste would be nice."
"You..."
Grazdan pointed at Lynn, his lips trembling, unable to speak a word.
"Get out."
Lynn waved his hand as if shooing away two flies.
"Go back and tell your masters: if you want to negotiate, bring sincerity."
"Next time, if I hear any more disrespectful words..."
Lynn's gaze locked onto them.
"I will pay you a visit personally."
Grazdan and Magzar scrambled out of the pyramid in a panic.
Their wretched appearance was a stark contrast to the arrogance with which they had arrived.
When they fled the hall and saw the countless free men outside staring at them with hatred, they were nearly frightened out of their wits, terrified that someone would lose control and stab them to death.
Silence returned to the hall.
"My Lord, they will do as they say," Jorah said, his face full of worry.
"The combined fleets of Yunkai and Meereen are enough to blockade the entire bay."
"Our grain... won't last long."
"I know."
Lynn sat back in his chair, showing no sign of tension.
He looked at the worried Daenerys and smiled.
"Don't worry, Dany."
He reached out and gently stroked her cheek.
"A city that only consumes is destined to perish."
"But a city that knows how to produce can create everything."
"They want to starve us to death?"
Lynn looked toward the bay.
"Soon, they will be delivering grain and iron to our doorstep, begging us to take it."