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The Daughter of Darkness watched the Black Pearl weave through the opulent crowd like a drop of golden oil in a dark pool, returning to their table with the effortless poise of a sovereign.
"Your savior has arrived," the Daughter of Darkness remarked coolly to Viserys.
"I have paid my way; a true dragon never forgets," Viserys replied, sipping his lemonade. He found the spiced wines of the banquet too muddy, their complex flavors masking the impurities he had learned to detect with his sharpening senses.
The Black Pearl, Bellegere, took her seat, her dark yellow gown rustling like dry autumn leaves. "Prystane Preston came looking for you?"
"He made a very appealing offer," Viserys said. "A banquet, a seat at his table, and presumably, a collar for my neck."
Bellegere sighed, the black pearl on her mask shimmering. "And you refused?"
"I can go for dinner, but I refused to be a bird in his cage."
"Then your trouble has arrived," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I didn't expect the Prestons to be so brazen, but it proves your value. In Braavos, a singer of your caliber is a prize worth fighting over. You've become a 'pig that has grown fat,' Viserys. The arena of fame is also a battlefield."
Viserys knew she was right. What had started as a minor skirmish with the Swordswoman and the Nightingale had escalated into a total war for his patronage. By singing his songs at the Sea King's ball, Bellegere had elevated the "Silver Traveler" to a status where no noble house in the city could ignore him.
"Is there a way to resolve this?" Viserys asked.
"Sign with me. I'll be your boss, and my name will shield you," she offered.
"I'll pass," Viserys said firmly. He had no intention of staying in Braavos long enough to become an employee. "Choose another path for me, Belle."
The Black Pearl thought for a moment. "I can introduce you to a Captain. He leads the Ice Ocean Crabbers—the head of the Rum Association. Sailors are a wild, cohesive lot, and they hold a power in the docks that even the noble houses fear. They love your songs, Viserys. 'Five Hundred Miles' is their new anthem."
"The Rum Association?"
"Sailors live on that pitch-black tar," she explained. "The Captains formed a guild to keep the merchants from watering it down. They are fierce, and they owe no loyalty to the Prestons."
The Daughter of Darkness leaned in, a hint of sourness in her tone. "You are truly dedicated to this one, Bellegere."
Viserys wondered if the cold courtesan was jealous, but he focused on the threat. "What if the Prestons don't back down? I won't retreat. I am an apprentice of the Water Dance, and I've learned its first rule: if you retreat from a challenge, they will take your cloak, then your boots, until you are left naked and broken."
His words were chilling, even to the two women. Violence was the shadow following the dragon.
"I hope it doesn't come to that," Bellegere said. "The Titan's Bastard—Mero—is not a man you want to see with a blade in his hand."
The Daughter of Darkness scrutinized Viserys's face. "Purple eyes... silver hair... the Silver Traveler and the Violet Swordsman. You have too many names, Viserys. Shh," she added, as he raised a finger for silence. "To success, then."
The View from the Throne
High above, in the Sea King's private sanctum, Ferrego sat in the shadows. He was a man who preferred the silence of his thoughts to the roar of the crowd.
"Jaqo Prestan went to see the boy," the First Sword, Quilo, reported.
"Jaqo is the heir—eager and arrogant," Ferrego said softly. "He wants to use the Traveler to add luster to his Mermaid Queen and bolster his family's waning prestige. He likely doesn't even care who Viserys truly is; he just sees a golden goose."
"Should we warn him?" Quilo asked. "Prystane is being bold, and Viserys is a guest of your hall."
"No," Ferrego waved a hand. "The art of power lies in balance. If Viserys is too weak to handle a young noble like Jaqo, then he is not fit for the Iron Throne he dreams of. Every man who rises to greatness must have a beast within him. I have mine. Robert Baratheon has his. Let us see if the dragon can bite."
Quilo nodded, though he watched the silver-haired boy below with a newfound curiosity. Viserys Targaryen was a storm moving through the city, and the Sea King was content to watch the clouds gather.
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