"Tell me about your sister," Azaerys asked the naked girl, who was helping him wrap the bandages, her fingers trembling slightly as she worked.
"Her name is Thiara, Your Grace. She's twenty-three years old," Khiara informed him. "She looks the same as me, but she's prettier and more mature..."
"She is not a maiden, is she?" He smiled.
"No, Your Grace." The girl shook her head. "She had a husband, a prince of YiTish descent. The God-Empress suspected that he and my sister were conspiring for the throne, so she had him executed and we were sold as slaves..."
"Does she have a child?"
"A daughter. Her name is Thiana. She's fifty moons old."
"And was your sister conspiring to usurp the throne?"
"No."
"Why are you so sure about it?"
"It was my sister who raised me, Your Grace. She's like a mother to me, and she has always confided in me. I know her better than anyone else." She stopped speaking and her hand froze as well. "Her husband was indeed conspiring and wanted to use her to rally the support for his brother to usurp God-Emperor Bu Gai of Yi Ti, but she took no part in his schemes. The God-Empress knew the truth as well, which was why she spared our lives and sold us..."
"Is that the truth?"
"Yes."
Azaerys fell silent after her words and focused on burning the poison inside his body.
The arrow was laced with poison, but thankfully, he knew the right spells to contain it and his magic was strong enough to eliminate it, a faint warmth tingling beneath his skin as the venom dissolved.
A short while later, when Khiara had carefully and correctly wrapped his wound, she respectfully stepped back and waited for his command, her breath catching in the quiet room.
The Summer King, who was lost in his thoughts, stood up and glanced at her, looking into her golden eyes, which were not the same as the molten gold of the Naathi but still quite beautiful, shimmering like polished amber in the dim light.
And he knew that her eyes could see better than any other person who had no magic in their blood.
He reached up with his right hand, traced her cheekbone with his thumb, and then pulled her chin up to make her look at him in the eyes.
Khiara nervously stared into his haunting purple eyes, waiting to hear the words that would decide her fate, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest.
However, it was not the words that sealed her life.
Azaerys leaned in and captured her soft lips, making her mind go blank for a moment, the warmth of his breath mingling with hers.
The next instant, she was jolted back to reality when he picked her up and then dropped her on the soft bed, the silken sheets cool against her skin.
Her heart thumped hard against her chest as she watched him take off his sash and unfasten his trousers.
When he removed his smallclothes, she nervously clutched the sheets, and despite her resolve, her body trembled.
It was not until he parted her legs and climbed on top of her that a tear escaped the corner of her left eye, but all it took was a kiss from him on her forehead, and she managed to smile at him, the gentle touch soothing her nerves.
The Lengii princess knew that the fate of her older sister and little niece was on her shoulders, and she could not waste this opportunity. She had to please the Summer King.
She knew it would hurt, but she was willing to bear it.
Khiara groaned in pain when he forced himself inside of her, locking her hands above her head and pressing her under his weight.
It was quite an excruciating experience for her as he took her maidenhead and kept pushing in with the help of shallow thrusts until he kissed the door to her womb.
She sobbed and whimpered in pain, but his soft kisses on her face gave her some hope, their warmth a quiet promise against her flushed skin.
Her tearful golden eyes stared into his purple orbs, pleading to him, full of hope and promises. They begged him to not be unkind to her, to not trample on her trust, but her mouth never spoke the words on her mind.
Azaerys started moving when he sensed her walls relax a little, keeping his thrusts shallow and grinding, and only when he felt her getting wet with her love juices did he stop controlling himself.
For Khiara, the pain stayed for a while until the pleasure started whispering, and once it did, her body started reacting and replying to his thrusts out of instinct.
When he let go of her hands, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, planting kisses there, and trying her best to suppress her moans. An endeavour she failed miserably at, her soft gasps echoing in the quiet room.
When their eyes met again, it was after she regained clarity from a mind-numbing orgasm, and her emotions overflowed with a sense of insecurity, infatuation, and restlessness.
Was this it? Was he going to discard her now?
She needed him to say something to her. She needed him to tell her that he would keep her by his side. She needed to hear him say that he would keep her sister and niece safe and take her away from Master Pymor.
"You are beautiful."
The words caused her to blush, and her heart skipped a beat.
"Your Grace..."
"You are safe." He told her, and she failed to hold back her tears as she obediently nodded her head to him.
"I will never disappoint you, Your Grace. I promise..."
Azaerys cut off her words by sealing her mouth, and then he started moving again, making her moan and writhe under him, her body trembling with each careful thrust.
He tossed in the bed with her for nearly two hours, tiring her out, and then left her under the silk sheets to go and meet Pymor the Flamesinger.
The man was one of the Heads of Pyromancers in the House of Warlocks in Qarth, his faithful servant.
When he arrived at the parlour, the old man he was looking for was already waiting for him there. His white beard was almost like the mane of a lion, and his head was bald.
Pymor was over sixty years old now, and he had family in both Asshai and Qarth and good friends in Leng and Great Moraq.
"Stand, Pymor." He ordered and the man quickly got up on his feet. "I need word that the harpies of Meereen tried to assassinate me in Vaes Dothrak spread all over Essos."
"It will be done, Your Grace." He promised.
Azaerys nodded to the man and smiled as he looked into his greyish-blue eyes.
"I have taken a liking to your gift, Pymor. What do you want in return for them?"
"They are a gift to you from this lowly servant, Your Grace. To hear that you have taken a liking to them is more than I could ever hope and ask for. I feel honoured."
"Don't waste this opportunity." He shook his head. "Ask."
The old man hesitated a little and then started wracking his brains to ask for something suitable.
His lord had already helped him a lot, made him powerful, and taught him the spells that were long lost. What more could he ask for?
Another spell?
Knowledge was all that he sought. And if he learned another spell and could pass it to his legacy, it would be great.
"The servant wishes for more knowledge, Your Grace. A spell that is safe and I can pass to my family."
The Summer King smiled at his words and then thought of something for a few seconds.
"How about a spell that you can use to see clearly over a long distance and at night?"
Even though the spell had nothing to do with pyromancy, Pymor happily nodded his head.
He had enough spells involving flames, and only some basic spells to see a little better at night. To be able to look clearly at long distances, like those Lengii, would be great, and it would be something he could use without anyone knowing.
Azaerys patiently taught him the spell for the next two hours and also informed him of the risks involved. He repeatedly warned him to stop when his eyes felt tired unless he wished to go blind.
Pymor was a smart man and understood the risks involved. Thankfully, the spell was safe, and if not abused, there were no consequences.
Right before dinner, when Azaerys returned to his room after a tour around Vaes Dothrak, letting people know that he was fine, he found Khiara waiting for him there, now dressed and freshened up, her golden hair gleaming softly in the candlelight.
With her was her older sister, beautiful enough to make people kill and die for her, and in her arms was a precious little girl, just over four years old, who was very adorable.
When he accepted little Thiana in his arms, the two sisters knelt to him, thanking him for accepting them in his household.
Thiara was a little disappointed in her heart when Azaerys told her that she would not be serving him but his little brother, Rhaemon, as his paramour. However, it was already more than what she could ever ask for in her situation.
The Summer King was very clear with his death threat should she ever harm Rhaemon or sow discord within the family, and the Lengii princess swore on her child's life that she would never do it.
Azaerys then had his meal with them in the room and spent the night holding Khiara in his arms, her warmth a quiet comfort against his chest.
He did not push himself on her as he knew that she needed time to recover and was tired.
For the next few days, every time he returned to the manse after taking the day's challenges, she wiped his body clean and took care of the fire in his loins. She served him with all her heart and mind and grew very attached to him.
This time, Azaerys stayed in Vaes Dothrak for nearly a moon, and on the day he was supposed to leave, he was greeted by over a thousand Dothraki warriors, waiting for him outside the manse.
Rakharo and Vrakho were standing in the front, and when the Summer King raised his brow at them, they helplessly smiled.
"They went to the dosh khaleen and asked them if it was right to follow the Khal of the Skies," the older son of Shako informed him about what happened yesterday.
"And did you tell them what following me means?" He inquired.
"Those who were unwilling did not come, Zelkhal." Rakharo smiled.
Azaerys' brow twitched again at being given a new title by the Dothraki.
"How many warriors are there?"
"Five shy of twenty-five hundred."
"The khalasar?"
"Around ten thousand."
"Horses?"
"Around five thousand."
Azaerys nodded his head and looked at Pymor.
"Arrange for white-coloured neck scarves for all the Dothraki warriors. White capes or cloaks for all the wives, sandy capes or cloaks for all the children, and yellow capes or cloaks for all the slave women. The elderly will wear light blue or sandy-coloured capes or cloaks, and the sickly are to wear light green. I need horse carts and wagons to carry people. No one will be on foot. Get more horses if needed."
"Yes, Your Grace." The Flamesinger accepted the command.
"The old, eunuchs, young who cannot ride, sick, and pregnant women, including pregnant slaves, will be on carts and wagons. The wives, sisters, brothers, sons, and daughters, old enough to ride will be on horses of good quality, behind the warriors. Slaves on mules, stots, or ponies. Make sure that only those who wish to follow us are part of the khalasar. Leave those in the city who just wish to follow us out of curiosity..."
Rakharo and Vrakho listened to his commands and got to work with Pymor.
It took them three days to arrange everything, and by the time they left Vaes Dothrak, they had gained an additional three hundred and ten warriors, and more women and children in the khalasar.
The horde of nearly fifteen thousand people marched towards the south, to their destination which was located somewhere in the Ghiscari Hills to the northeast of Old Ghis.
It took them exactly fifty-two days to reach the abandoned village in a beautiful valley, whose residents had immigrated to Astapor, the valley fragrant with wildflowers and fresh grass.
Here, Azaerys settled the Dothraki, left them under the command of Rakharo, and then flew to Dragonport, where the entire city had been waiting for his return.
He deliberately flew low with his sky riders, allowing the people to see that he was fine, and landed on the Pyramid of Pride with Khiara, Thiara, and little Thiana, who were on a different hippogriff.
His siblings were waiting for him there, and the relief on their faces made him smile.
The Summer King laughed when the Zaelystar tightly hugged him but held his brother in his arms until he managed to get a grip on his emotions.
They did not say any words to each other, but the silence was more than enough of a conversation.
"This is Thiara, Rhaemon. She will be serving you from now on. Arrange the room next to yours for her and her daughter, and keep her close to you. Okay?" Azaerys gently spoke to him when they separated.
The boy understood what Thiara was meant to be for him. She was what Myrmadora was for Aegon, and when he looked at the gorgeous and mature lady, who had an air of nobility about her, he shyly nodded his head.
"Come, my lady..." He awkwardly asked her to follow him, which amused the Nefaeryon a lot, but the prince decided to not tease him in front of his future paramour.
Arianne, who had been acting brave, suddenly could not control herself and rushed to hug him, and he held her tight in his embrace, her warmth a fierce comfort against his chest.
"I am fine, Ari..."
"Shut up." The queen cut him off, and he wisely kept quiet and held her in silence.
When she finally let him go, Azaerys asked her and Myrmadora to lead Khiara to the room that had been prepared for her.
His queen was quite curious about the former Lengii princess and happily grabbed her hand and led her towards her great chamber instead. A subtle expression of her ire towards her husband.
She was not going to forgive him for giving her such a bad scare.
The Summer King, on the other hand, led Rhaenys and Aegon to the great hall.
"The Isle of Flies is under our control and the restoration of Darkhold is underway. Ser Myles and his sell-sail company are on the island. There's more than three thousand of them..."
The prince had personally gone to visit the island a few days ago, and he reported everything in detail.
On their way, they came across Desmera, Alla, and Elinor, who had just finished their music lessons, and all three girls deeply curtsied.
"I hope your betrothed has been treating you with kindness, Lady Desmera."
"Prince Aelyx takes good care of me, Your Grace. He has never been unkind to me." She shyly said and sneaked a glance at Aegon, who brightly smiled at her.
"I am glad to hear that." He nodded and asked the prince to accompany the ladies.
Azaerys also asked Aegon to inform the kitchen that he wanted to enjoy some delicious meals for lunch later and tasked Desmera to select the dishes, which made the girl very nervous.
Once Rhaenys and he were alone, the princess hugged his arm and rested her head against his shoulder and walked by his side in silence.
"Let's burn them, Az..."
"Sssshhh... Draegon is getting restless, Rhae. Rein your fire."
"You are going to accept their offer of truce?" She frowned.
"Yes."
The princess stopped in her tracks and madness flickered in her eyes.
"We are dragons, Az. We don't need a truce with the sheep."
Azaerys smiled at her and nudged her nose.
"Rein your fire, my little dragon. We don't need to kill the sheep by burning them. Fear is enough." He playfully said, and she smiled as she hugged his arm again.
"How are you going to make them pay?"
"You will see."
As soon as he arrived inside the great hall, he instructed the golden guards and messengers to call all the envoys who were waiting to meet him, all the other renowned guests who were staying in the Pyramid of Peace.
Dragonport was going to hold its first open court in the next few hours.
After giving his instructions, he went to the bath to clean himself up.
Azaerys wore the colours of his house, a red shirt, black trousers, and a black vest crested with rubies, lined with silver, and added more silver and more black to his outfit in the form of a cape, which had the face of a dragon on his back.
On his waist was his sword, Truth, and his dagger, Promise, and when he marched into his great hall, the hundreds of people inside it tensed up.
The sound of his footsteps echoed in their ears, and weighed on their hearts, and no one said anything even after he climbed the stairs and stood at the top platform, facing them.
"Sit." He gently said to his sister and Arianne, who took their seats behind him on the throne.
On the left side of the platform, Rhaemon stood with Glenn Gryffonn, and on his right side, Aegon stood with Garret Gryffonn.
Six majestic griffins were on the platform as well, and the hundred members of the Legion of Light, led by Seth and Horus, stood guard on the stairs below the platform.
There were nearly a hundred golden guards in the great hall, spread across it. In the galleries, where House Martell, Tyrell, Redwyne, the princes and princesses of the Summer Isles, the representatives of Qarth and Volantis, famous merchants, influential people of Dragonport, and other guests were present, Kharzik warriors stood guard.
And under all their eyes, the people from Meereen, Yunkai, Elyria, and Tolos stood in the hall with the people and things they had brought with them. They felt like they were being put on a trial, and given the oppressive atmosphere, their hearts were palpitating in fear.
"Tell me, oh the harpies of Yunkai and Meereen, are you here to beg for my forgiveness, or do you stand before me to play your games?" Azaerys coldly asked, and the Kharziks started tapping the hilts of their spears on the floor.
The faces of the envoys of Yunkai and Meereen went pale when they saw the griffins getting restless, their low growls rumbling through the hall like distant thunder.