At the mouth of the canal where it meets the sea, aboard the Smiling Face cruise ship, inside the third-floor hall.
"…These were the exact words spoken by the Dragon Queen to the crowd, complete and unabridged, not a word omitted."
A flower-robed Water Dancer knelt beneath the wooden throne, repeating the Dragon Queen's speech word for word.
Yes, the customs of Braavos—Water Dancer assassins typically wore flamboyant, brightly colored silk outfits that were highly conspicuous. You could spot them at a glance on the street.
In contrast, Braavosi nobles and wealthy merchants, regardless of gender, preferred dark, somber, and austere attire.
This was the complete opposite of Westeros.
The Keyholder, Betharo, had a fleeting, unreadable look in his eyes but asked casually, "Are you certain it was the Dragon Queen herself?"
"They don't even know what the negotiations were about—how could she have sent a decoy? Besides, I've known her a long time. Who could fool whom?" Sea Lord Ferrego scoffed.
"It was really her. Silver hair, purple eyes, a beauty beyond the mortal realm. Most distinct was her presence—majestic, gentle, approachable, and commanding—all seamlessly shifting with her tone. No ordinary person could manage that," the Water Dancer seated below added earnestly.
"Good," the Keyholder muttered softly.
"Has the matter at the Green Eel Inn been fully investigated?" asked the First Sword standing beside the throne.
"Yes. About a week ago, Gerold Dayne came to Braavos under the alias 'Dornish Arthur,' spending two thousand gold dragons to purchase the Green Eel Inn and three adjacent warehouses.
He then evicted all the guests under the pretense of renovating the inn. Business was suspended, and the staff and chefs were sent on paid leave.
Apart from minor renovations to the third floor, Gerold Dayne also recruited fifteen skilled Water Dancers from the Moon Pool."
"A week ago?" The Keyholder's expression darkened. "That was before Gerold Dayne ever visited the Sea Lord's Palace. When exactly did he arrive in Braavos, and how many things has he done under different identities?"
"If he weren't so cautious, he wouldn't be worthy of the title White Knight," the First Sword praised.
"But back then, no one could have known the Dragon Queen and the Sea Lord would meet face to face," Betharo said in frustrated embarrassment.
He had thought his suggestion of the 'Twin Kings Summit' had broken the deadlock between the White Knight and the Sea Lord—that he was the one who initiated this meeting. But now…Had he been played?
"What's the point of talking about that now?" The First Sword shook his head and turned to the Sea Lord. "What matters most is your safety. One must never let their guard down, especially when dealing with a Queen of Westeros.
The things that have happened in Westeros in recent years have been nothing short of horrifying.
A queen's adultery and incest, replacing the stag with the lion, Robert's inexplicable death, Eddard Stark's execution by Joffrey's betrayal, the Red Wedding, the Purple Wedding, kinslaying, patricide, the burning of the Citadel…"
By the end, the First Sword could only sigh, "Who would've thought Westeros would decay into this… it's terrifying!"
"Barbaric lands, uncultured, unrefined, nothing surprising about it," the Keyholder said with disdain.
"The worse and messier Westeros gets, the more it benefits us. Cough, cough..." Sea Lord Ferrego covered his mouth and coughed up a thick wad of yellow phlegm. His complexion improved a little. "Do those Water Dancers know the Dragon Queen is coming?"
"No. They only think they're working for the Dornishman Arthur. They don't even know Gerold Dayne's real identity," said the flower-robed Water Dancer kneeling at the foot of the throne.
"Have the buildings near the Green Eel Inn been checked thoroughly?" the First Sword asked.
"Within five hundred meters, no suspicious individuals, and no flammable or hazardous materials like wildfire or cotton wool were found."
After a moment's silence, Sea Lord Ferrego gently asked, "Has the Nameless One arrived?"
The ship's hall fell quiet. After a while, the Keyholder fidgeted awkwardly in his chair and said, "Waiting for you at the Moon Pool."
"Who?"
"A Kind Person. He's come in person."
Two oar-powered longships sailed in parallel ahead, clearing the way as ten warships wound into the canal, almost paralyzing river traffic.
Right next to the Green Eel Inn were two large warships with decks packed with scorpions.
But the scorpions weren't loaded, and they had been deliberately turned away, avoiding the airspace near the inn.
Only then did the Smiling Face cruise ship slowly enter the Moon Pool and dock at the small pier.
Two eunuchs in blue robes disembarked, each carrying a gleaming brass gong, running toward the Green Eel Inn along the pier.
Dang— With a single strike of the gong, one eunuch shrieked, "His Majesty the Sea Lord has arrived. Clear the way!"
Behind them followed Water Dancers in gold-trimmed short robes. Right hands on their swords, left hands holding torches high, they formed two lines between the pier and the inn, separating the curious crowd and clearing a path for the Sea Lord.
Sixteen burly Black men carried down from the ship a massive octagonal palanquin, painted a bright red from poles to carriage body.
The roof was covered in gold, with colorful silk curtains hanging from all sides, creating a square space of seven to eight square meters.
As it swayed, the nearby crowd could glimpse through the curtains the pale, sickly face of the Sea Lord, and behind him, that massive throne—clearly the same chair from the sea vessel.
At that moment, the Dragon Queen descended the stairs once more with the hawk-nosed knight, and directed two colorfully dressed assassins to climb a wooden ladder and change the plaque above the entrance.
Green Eel Inn was replaced with True Dragon Pavilion.
Uh… such a rundown place, and she doesn't even mind the shabbiness.
The Dragon Queen didn't step out of the inn—no, the pavilion—to greet the Sea Lord, but she did open the doors and allowed his First Sword to lead men inside and ascend to the third floor.
After the Chief Swordsman inspected the spacious negotiation room on the third floor, he came down and informed the Sea King. Only then did the sedan chair approach the gate of the manor and descend.
The brocade curtain of the sedan was lifted, and two maids helped the old Sea King out.
The Sea King had the familiar kidney-shaped face and sky-blue eyes that Dany remembered, but his appearance was far more aged and feeble than in her memory. His once strong muscles had sagged, his taut skin now wrinkled like chicken flesh. Only the authority in his eyes had grown stronger with age.
"Your Majesty Antaryon, it's been over a decade since we last met. You still... What illness do you have?" Dany asked with concern.
She had meant to casually say something like, "Still strong and spirited in old age," but the Sea King's appearance was too frail.
If he were to suddenly die in front of her before even answering her question, Dany wouldn't be surprised.
The usual pleasantries caught in her throat, and all she could show was what appeared to be genuine concern—though it was only just convincing enough to pass.
The old Sea King seemed deeply moved. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes as he sighed with emotion. "It's an old ailment, nothing serious. But you, Dany, you were just a chubby little girl back then, and now you've become a queen."
"If Ser Willem Darry were still alive and could see you now, he'd be very happy and proud."
[The latest chapter is first released on 69 Book Bar!]
At the mention of Willem Darry, Dany instead recalled the day young Daenerys and her brother Viserys were thrown out of the red-doored house by the servants. Her heart involuntarily filled with disgust.
It was obvious that the old Sea King had a hand in that incident.
As Robert's reign grew increasingly secure—especially after he defeated Balon Greyjoy's rebellion (which coincided with the timing of Dany's expulsion)—the Targaryens, now dragonless, had lost their value as political assets.
To avoid offending the new king on the Iron Throne, the Sea King schemed to have the servants seize the estate Willem Darry had prepared for the two siblings—the very belongings they had brought from Dragonstone.
"Your Majesty Antaryon, it's chilly and windy out here. Let's go inside to talk," Dany invited.
Soon, everyone climbed the three-story stairway and entered a warmly decorated hall with soft, elegant furnishings.
A long wooden table and fur-covered chairs had been prepared. Dany sat alone on the side near the northern wall, while the Sea King and the keykeeper, Bessaro, sat on the opposite side.
Dany began observing Bessaro, who was twice the size of any normal person—a chubby, courteous man with a kind smile.
The Iron Bank was originally established in an underground mine by twenty-three escaped slaves.
Each founder held a key that opened the massive vault below, and they and their descendants were known as "keyholders."
The lineup of keyholders was not fixed—over the centuries, some families fell into decline and lost their keys, while new elites rose and took their place.
The Iron Bank's vault was also relocated over time. The old keys no longer fit—rumor had it that the Braavosi had amassed so much gold that the original iron mine could no longer contain it.
In any case, by now, the keys held by the keyholders could no longer open the new vault's doors. They had become nothing more than symbols of family heritage and power.
The Rhaen family, descendants of one of the original twenty-three founders, were among the most senior keyholders and true masters of Braavos—at least, one of them.
"Lord Bessaro, Your Majesty the Sea King, first, I must apologize for not going to the observatory as agreed and instead troubling you to come to my shabby inn.
As for the reason—you can probably guess even if I don't say it.
Yes, I was cautious, even afraid. So I stood at the door and told the citizens of Braavos everything leading up to this meeting.
I hope you can forgive my little scheme. My time at the Citadel left me with more than just scars—it left shadows." Dany smiled honestly.
"We understand, Your Majesty. It's only prudent to be cautious," the plump keyholder said with a laugh.
"Coming to Braavos in person already takes great courage," the Sea King added with a grin, brushing the matter aside.
"Shall we begin then?" Dany raised an eyebrow and asked.
"Yes." The Sea King nodded, his smile fading as he said seriously, "Since you're sitting across from me now, there's no need for empty pleasantries. Yes, the Faceless Men have accepted a contract to assassinate you.
But just like every religious group on the Isle of Gods, the House of Black and White is an independent organization. Neither the Sea King nor the Braavosi government has the authority to intervene.
In fact, I only learned about the bounty on your head a few days ago, when Ser Gerold came to visit and I made inquiries at the House of Black and White."
Finally, he looked earnestly at Dany and asked, "How about I invite the leader of the House of Black and White to speak with you directly?"
Dany resisted the urge to slap the old man and nodded. "Fine."
Clap clap clap! The old Sea King clapped and called hoarsely toward the stairway, "High Priest, please come up!"
Thud, thud, thud. Heavy, slow footsteps echoed from the wooden stairs—just one set of steps.
From the pace and weight of the footsteps, it was clear that they belonged to a frail old man.
But three people came up—two skinny, shriveled girls supporting an elderly man in a hooded robe.
The two girls didn't surprise Dany—but the horse-faced brown-haired girl looked exactly like the soul she had seen once within the body of a direwolf.
Arya!
(End of Chapter)
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