Balerion was the biggest of the four. His scales were black as night and his temper was already arrogant as hell. Whenever the three tiny hatchlings tried to get close, he snarled, clawed, and drove them off.
Even fresh from the egg, the three hand-sized dragons were terrified of him. They huddled in Daenerys's arms and refused to even look his way.
Viserys reached out and scratched the proud "lamb-sized" dragon between the horns. Balerion actually leaned into the touch.
He already had a name. Viserys wasn't about to play favorites with the other three. After pretending to think it over, he named the solid-black hatchling Meraxes.
Meraxes had been the dragon of Rhaenys Targaryen during Aegon's Conquest, and the name once belonged to an ancient Valyrian god. The original Meraxes could swallow a horse whole. Viserys hoped this one would grow up just as deadly.
The green-bronze hatchling became Vermithor.
Vermithor had been Jaehaerys the First's mount—huge, bronze-scaled, and known as the Bronze Fury. When the dragon reached a hundred years old it was second in size only to Vhagar. The name fit perfectly.
The last one, milky white with gold on its horns, wing bones, and spine, Viserys named Seasmoke.
Seasmoke had once belonged to Laenor Velaryon, then to Addam of Hull. It had fought in the Dance of the Dragons and died alongside Vermithor. Viserys wanted this dragon to inherit that proud warrior spirit.
The three small dragons still didn't know their names, but the moment Daenerys carried them away from Balerion they chirped and squirmed with pure joy.
Balerion stayed sprawled beside Viserys, looking bored with everything else in the room.
Viserys kept glancing at him. How the hell had something the size of a lamb crawled out of that egg?
The news that House Targaryen had dragons again spread fast. It hit the Lorath islands while they were still tearing each other apart in civil war. Both sides stopped fighting within hours and begged the Targaryens to mediate.
Jiang Gan arrived with a full escort.
White Cloaks on the left. Blue-robed Enforcers on the right. Two knights rode ahead of him—one carrying the black three-headed dragon banner, the other flying the new royal standard. The quartered flag showed King's Landing, Braavos, Pentos, and Dragonstone, with the Iron Throne at the center and symbols of the Seven Kingdoms and the surrounding lands ringing the edges.
It was an impressive show of force. Even the Lorathi who had been trying to kill each other minutes earlier came out to greet the envoy properly.
No one wanted to piss off the man who had broken Khal Drogo and thirty thousand Dothraki.
Jiang Gan rode straight into the hall and took the main seat without waiting for permission. The two sides sat down on opposite sides of the table, glaring at each other but staying quiet.
"Things are different now," Jiang Gan said.
Neither side argued.
"I don't like wasting time," he continued. "You all know that. So I'll be direct."
He looked at the three princes and the surviving magisters.
"King Viserys has conquered lands, crushed enemies, and brought dragons back into the world. He is offering to bring Lorath into his empire. Does anyone here object?"
The hall went silent.
Jiang Gan leaned back in the chair.
"Who opposes?" he asked. "Who agrees?"