"Of course I value friendship," the spice merchant said, his face darkening, "but not one offered by barbaric Dothraki."
Gritting her teeth, Daenerys suppressed the urge to retaliate. She didn't want to strain their relationship too far, fearing that pushing too hard might force them to seize her dragons.
The spice merchant stood there, but since the expected fury didn't erupt, he sullenly returned to the Thirteen Great Masters.
Watching him rejoin the group, Jorah looked at Daenerys with a questioning expression. *Is the Khaleesi really giving up the chance to enter the city?*
"This is hardly the hospitality of Qarth, especially when dealing with the Mother of Dragons."
Just as everyone assumed the negotiations had failed and Daenerys was about to turn her group away, a tall, dark-skinned middle-aged man stepped forward from the Thirteen Great Masters.
"Xaro Xhoan Daxos, do you have something to say?" the spice merchant asked, frowning.
"I simply believe that since the Mother of Dragons has crossed the Red Waste to reach us, we should not turn her away," Xaro said, nodding slightly at Daenerys.
Daenerys looked at Xaro with hope in her eyes. If she could enter the city, she wouldn't have to endure several more days of travel to the coast.
"The Thirteen Great Masters have already reached a consensus. Do you still insist on letting them enter our city?" the spice merchant demanded, his voice laced with accusation.
"I am one of the Thirteen Great Masters, am I not?" Xaro retorted, his face hardening.
"Our decision will not be easily changed!" The spice merchant glanced at the other Great Masters, who nodded in agreement.
"Then I invoke Sumai!"
With that, Xaro drew the sharp dagger at his waist, gripped the blade with his bare hand, and slashed deeply across his palm. Blood dripped onto the stone.
In the distance, Daenerys and Jorah watched this scene with alarm. They hadn't expected Xaro to use such a method to gain entry. What was his true motive?
Seeing Xaro's bleeding palm, the spice merchant flicked his sleeve and stepped aside. The other Great Masters stirred, clearing a path as the gates slowly creaked open.
Though uncertain of Xaro's reasons for insisting on their entry, Daenerys felt both apprehension and a flicker of hope as she gazed at the open gates and the bustling city beyond.
The immediate crisis had been averted. Xaro's intentions would have to wait.
Qarth proved worthy of its reputation as a great city. The moment they entered, they saw rows of exquisite, towering buildings lining the streets, surrounded by lush trees. The pale-skinned citizens of Qarth, elegantly dressed, were a testament to its nickname, "Milkmen."
Beyond the gates, Drogon lifted the curtain to reveal the bustling City of Qarth, a sight that even he, a modern-day穿越者, found breathtaking.
It was hard to imagine such a beautiful port city thriving on the edge of the wilderness.
After passing through the bustling streets, Daenerys and her companions were settled into one of Xaro's private estates. Once they were comfortably arranged, Xaro departed with a gentlemanly bow.
After washing away the dust of their journey and donning opulent Qarthian attire, Daenerys, her features now refined, already exuded a queenly aura.
Drogon and his two siblings were released from their cages to roam the courtyard. Drogon, in particular, ate voraciously and digested quickly. The maids Jhiqui and Irri had barely finished tidying the rooms before they were busy setting up a spit to roast meat.
In her new clothes, Daenerys, ignoring the smoke, personally grilled meat for her little dragons. She loved watching them devour it, as if she could draw some satisfaction from their voracious appetite.
Seeing the radiant Dragon Mother, Drogon couldn't help but admire her. *As expected of pure Targaryen blood—she's already the very picture of a queen.*
As she roasted meat and listened to Drogon's unconventional praise, Daenerys's heart swelled with joy.
The little dragons' appetites were astonishing, and their growth was rapid, with noticeable changes almost daily. Drogon, in particular, was now half again as large as his siblings.
Daenerys had already begun to fantasize about soaring through the sky on the back of a dragon.
Now Drogon could barely breathe fire to roast his own meat. The flames were too weak to cook anything but the surface, leaving the inside still raw. Drogon disliked this, but Viserion and Rhaegal were less picky; they were content as long as the surface was golden-brown and the inside was half-cooked.
As Drogon practiced and roasted meat for the two dragons, he saved Daenerys and her maids a great deal of trouble.
Stretching his wings, Drogon had time to observe his two kin: the golden dragon Viserion and the green dragon Rhaegal.
*These two fools need proper training,* Drogon thought to himself, watching the dragons squabble over the roasted meat. *They can't just die so carelessly anymore. It's a disgrace to our dragon kind.*
Daenerys's heart gave a slight twinge as she fiddled with the roasting meat, but her worry quickly turned to joy. Having Drogon train Rhaegal and Viserion was far better than her own efforts.
"Khaleesi," Jorah's voice came from the doorway, accompanied by another figure.
"Khaleesi, this is Captain Kuhuru of the *Laurel Wind*, from Highgarden in the Summer Isles. He brings news from Westeros."
Captain Kuhuru, his dark skin gleaming, quickly prostrated himself. "Noble Mother of Dragons, it is my honor to behold you!"
The mention of Westeros piqued Daenerys's interest, and even Drogon, who had been practicing roasting meat nearby, pricked up his ears.
"You've been to Westeros. What's the situation there now?" Daenerys asked, her voice tinged with urgency.
"King Robert is dead, and the realm is in chaos..."
"The Usurper is dead?" Daenerys could hardly believe it.
She had grown up hearing stories of the Usurper, the shadow that haunted her childhood and plagued her dreams. They said he was as tall and fierce as a black bear, the man who had killed her never-before-seen brother Rhaegar with a single hammer blow and seized the Iron Throne.
It was he who had forced her to flee even before she was born, living in constant exile and under the constant threat of assassination. Not long ago, she had nearly drunk poisoned wine he had sent her, a plot thwarted only by Ser Jorah's intervention.
Now, to hear of his death... Daenerys felt as if the sky above her head had suddenly cleared.
"Is this news reliable? How did he die? Tell me everything else about Westeros," Daenerys urged, afraid this might be a false hope.
"The news is absolutely true. The once-valiant King Robert was gored to death by a wild boar, and the whole of Westeros is abuzz with the story. Prince Joffrey has inherited the throne, but the king's two brothers refuse to acknowledge his claim and have fled King's Landing to declare themselves king. Prime Minister Eddard Stark has been arrested for treason." Kuhuru continued.
As Daenerys listened, her joy grew. She glanced at Jorah, hoping he could help verify the truth of the news.
"Edd and Robert were as close as brothers. He would never betray the crown," Jorah reasoned.
"Why wouldn't he? Didn't he betray my father and become Robert's lapdog?" Daenerys retorted, her voice sharp with anger.
She loathed King Robert for usurping the throne, but she hated her father's ministers even more. They were all Robert's accomplices and executioners. Without them, she would never have had to live in exile before she was even born.
Seeing Daenerys's fury, Jorah didn't defend Edd further. After all, it was Edd who had sentenced him to death, forcing him into exile.
Edd has already been beheaded. The War of the Five Kings is in full swing.