Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Chapter 521: The Provocation of Slaver’s Bay

Chapter 521: The Provocation of Slaver’s Bay

Rhaenyra took a sip of her wine and asked, “What is your name, foreigner?”

“Chazar!” the foreign merchant replied arrogantly, looking down at the people with his nostrils. “You can also call me the wealthy Chazar, the arena manager of Meereen.”

The arrogance in his voice grew as he spoke. Rhaenyra could smell the foreigner's characteristic stench from afar. She covered her nose and mouth with her fingers and thoughtfully said, “Oh,” under his arrogant gaze, sarcastically adding, "I've never heard of you, so you're nobody.”

Chazar was instantly angry and said bluntly, “Your Grace, I come from the largest arena in Meereen and have been sent here by a group of Good Masters.”

“Well, that sounds good,” Rhaenyra nodded slightly, pleased with herself. “State your request, this... um, unknown guest.”

Then she gave a sidelong glance. Johanna stood at her side, her legs crossed beneath her gauze dress, like a beautiful sculpture. Receiving the queen's signal, Johanna stepped forward: “Chazar from Meereen, The Queen of Lys will hear your plea.”

The word choice was changed to directly label the visitor as a “beggar.”

Chazar took a deep breath and said with a stiff neck, “Your Grace, I am entrusted by the Good Masters to announce the rise of the Aethyrys family in Slaver's Bay.”

He paused and added with a serious expression: “An ancient and noble family of Dragonlords, newly revived.”

“A bastard Dragonlord family?” Rhaenyra dismissed it lightly, not even batting an eyelid.

“No!” Chazar could not contain his anger and emphasized, “It is an ancient Dragonlord family, one of the Dragonlords who, along with your family, is a bastion of freedom.”

“In fact, the Aethyrys family is even more noble than yours.” At this, Chazar snorted: “As everyone knows, the Targaryen name was not strong in the Freehold.”

Upon hearing this, Rhaenyra's narrow eyes narrowed, and her aura of self-assurance and authority radiated.

Bang!

A loud noise echoed from the door, causing Chazar to nearly jump out of his skin. Rhaenyra's hand, poised to land on the table, stopped mid-air as she looked toward the door in surprise. She hadn't even hit the table!

The door had been kicked open, and two Kingsguard stood at attention.

“Welcome, King Rhaegar of the Targaryens...” began one of the Kingsguard, only to be interrupted by a wave of the hand. “That's enough. He doesn't deserve to hear the rest.”

Rhaegar entered, his face expressionless, clad in a brand-new black robe with his hands behind his back. He wore two weapons at his waist: one for Truefyre and the other for is the dragon taming whip. His tall, imposing figure exuded authority. His long, silvery-gold hair cascaded over his shoulders, and his cold, purple eyes were devoid of emotion.

“Gulp...”

Chazar couldn't help but take a step back, swallowing nervously. He had seen countless Valyrians with silver hair and purple eyes and had even met the new Dragonlord enshrined in the Great Pyramid. But none had ever made his chest pound so violently. It was as if he were looking at a true dragon of ancient and noble blood.

Rhaegar passed Chazar and said, “Are you stinking?”

His words were vulgar and direct. Chazar bowed his head in silence, subconsciously arguing, “Your Grace of the Iron Throne, your family...”

"Stop! I don't want to listen to you anymore and put up with the smell of dung." Rhaegar interrupted, his purple eyes cold and fierce. Turning his back on Chazar, he beckoned to Ser Steffon and said, “When you send off the visitor later, keep his tongue as a souvenir.”

“Yes, Your Grace!” Steffon responded, looking serious and unwavering as he drew his sword.

Chazar was stunned, looking at the two in disbelief. They were so savage.

Rhaegar ignored him and walked straight to his seat at the conference table. Having just burned the entire fleet of Slaver's Bay, he was pondering how to eliminate the new Dragonlord, retrieve the young dragon, and secure the treasure.

As he walked past, Rhaenyra's eyes never left him, a hint of resentment mixed with joy. She hadn't heard from him in half a month, not even a letter. She had been worried sick.

Rhaegar sat down, poured himself a glass of wine, and relaxed. “Don't worry about me. You guys go ahead.”

Lys was under Rhaenyra's rule, and he would never presume to take over her role. Besides, he was curious to hear what kind of nonsense the messenger from Slaver's Bay had to say.

Rhaenyra gave him a sideways glance, adjusted her queenly composure, and said with a slight smile, “Chazar, you mentioned a Dragonlord's name. Are you just trying to get attention?”

“Of course not.” Chazar wiped the cold sweat from his brow and forced himself to remain composed. “The Great Pyramid voted that the House Targaryen should be informed of the rise of the new Dragonlord family.”

“Hmm?” Rhaenyra rested her hand on the table, looking ready to listen. She found that the other party was indeed interesting.

Chazar continued, his heart pounding, “As fellow Dragonlords, with bloodlines from the ancient Freehold, I believe your family will recognize the legitimacy of the Aethyrys family.”

“Puff, haha...” Rhaegar laughed, as if he had heard the funniest joke.

Rhaenyra's face darkened, feeling her dignity challenged. She sneered, “Since when have there been dragons in Slaver's Bay?”

“No, no, no. There are no dragons in Slaver's Bay for the time being.” Chazar let himself go completely and tried to prove, “But there is a young dragon in the Smoking Sea, and I believe it will live in the pyramid in Meereen one day.”

“What if I don’t agree?” Rhaenyra’s eyes were cold, and she played with the diamond ring on her finger, resisting the urge to slap him.

Chazar raised his chin and said haughtily, “Shouls your houses agree that Westeros and Slaver’s Bay will be the closest allies. If not, Slaver’s Bay will cut off trade with Westeros and maintain a rigid non-interaction with each other.”

Rhaenyra sneered, “The Targaryens control half of the resources of the Narrow Sea. Do you think we care?”

Chazar was unconvinced. “I'll tell you what. Before I set off, the ships of Slaver's Bay had already blockaded the Smoking Sea, and the rise of the new Dragonlord House is unstoppable.”

Crackling sound...

Rhaegar clapped his hands in delight and said with a smile, “Then I might as well tell you that before I returned with my dragon, the fleet that had blockaded the Smoking Sea was all burned and fed to the fish.”

“What!?” Chazar was shocked and nearly fainted.

Rhaegar looked at Rhaenyra and said helplessly, “I didn't mean to interrupt, but I couldn't help it.” A clown who doesn't applaud is rude.

“Do as you please.” Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, thinking that she was being overbearing. Ignoring the yelling Chazar, Rhaenyra waved her hand. “Take him away. According to the king's order, keep the envoy's tongue and send him back to Slaver's Bay.”

It would be a waste of time to get angry with someone so mentally deficient.

Johanna did as she was told and called in the guards.

“No!” Chazar screamed and threatened, “Do you know what will happen if you destroy the fleet in Slaver's Bay?”

Rhaegar, who was eating a red grape, looked at Rhaenyra as if to ask what the consequences would be.

Chazar then shouted, “Slaver's Bay is the largest slave market in the world. The power it hides is beyond your imagination!”

“Guards, take him away!” Rhaegar couldn't stand it anymore and called out for the guards.

“Kill him. He's too annoying.”

But just as the Kingsguard entered the meeting hall, Chazar suddenly sprang up.

He thrust his hand into his bosom and shouted, “Long live the Harpy!”

In the blink of an eye, a black shadow flew past, hitting him squarely on the wrist.

Bang! A crisp crack of bone, and his wrist snapped.

Then, a glass wine cup shattered, spilling countless fragments.

“Ah!” Chazar screamed in pain and dropped the object in his hand.

It was a golden mask of the Harpy.

Rhaegar's eyes were as sharp as an eagle's, and he maintained the throwing motion of the wine cup.

Chazar then clenched his teeth, making a crunching sound.

Within seconds, his olive-colored face turned pale, and a mouthful of black blood spilled out of the corner of his mouth.

Plop. His body fell backwards, dead on the spot.

Steffon hurriedly went forward and tested his mouth and nose: “Your Grace, he's dead.”

Rhaegar was stunned. He had never expected the other man to commit suicide by poison.

Rhaenyra widened her eyes, lowered her long, white legs, and carefully covered them with her skirt.

She thought of a profession – a suicide soldier.

Johanna quickly reacted, hurried out of the hall, and soon returned.

Her face was very subtle, and she panted, “Your Grace, he is the head of the Meereen arena. He gambled away a large sum of money and was sacrificed by the Good Masters.”

In other words, he was here to die.

Rhaegar's mouth twitched as he smiled: “Declaring war on the Targaryens by dying?”

He was curious to know what kind of trump card Slaver's Bay had up its sleeve.

How dare they be so arrogant.

He turned his head and looked at Johanna: “When will Lord Corlys' fleet, as well as the fleets of House Celtigar and House Redwyne, cross the Narrow Sea?”

They dared to challenge the authority of the Iron Throne, and he could not tolerate it for even a moment.

Johanna raised her peach-colored eyes and replied, “It will be at least a month. The sea is unpredictable.”

“Fine, then a month!” Rhaegar angrily got up and ordered, “Take the body out and feed it to the dragons!”

After saying that, he walked out the door.

The appearance of a new Dragonlord family had seriously irritated him.

The people of Slaver's Bay had come to provoke him, and that had really touched his bottom line.

Once the army is assembled, he will make sure that the Good Masters who sell slaves are all bled to death.

Behind him, Rhaenyra watched his angry back, and a hint of worry flashed in her eyes.

She was afraid that Rhaegar would become extreme. Many members of the Targaryen family had this problem.

...

Night falls.

Rhaegar’s eyes narrowed as he leaned back in the tub, feeling the heat of the boiling water envelop him.

Knock, knock!

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, Rhaegar.” Rhaenyra’s voice came from the door, which she gently pushed open.

Rhaegar opened his eyes at the sound, looking at her with a mix of suspicion and slight hostility.

“I’ve come to see you.” Rhaenyra was still wearing the beautiful dress from earlier that day. She walked slowly to the bathtub and sat down on a stool beside it.

Splash...

Her bare hands reached into the boiling water, gently stroking Rhaegar’s tense shoulders and neck.

She leaned forward, lifting her hair. Her chin rested on Rhaegar’s shoulder, their cheeks close together, their breathing synchronized.

The sudden tenderness caught Rhaegar off guard. He coughed lightly, saying, “I’m fine. There’s no need for this.”

“Baelon and the others are furious. Maekar fed that corpse to Tyraxes.”

With the sound of splashing water, Rhaenyra leaned over Rhaegar’s back, her hands reaching out to grab his chest, muttering, “Baela is a hot-tempered woman. She even challenged to burn down Slaver’s Bay.”

“Hmm!”

Rhaegar took a deep breath and leaned back, his body softening. “They’re all good kids, aren’t they?”

Having many children is also one of his strengths.

The children are all very smart, and their personalities are developing in a good direction, which makes him feel even more at ease.

“Mmm!”

Rhaegar’s lower abdomen tightened, and he leaned sideways into Rhaenyra’s neck, letting his guard down a little too much.

Rhaenyra rubbed her cheek against his and kept her hands busy, asking softly, “A new Dragonlord family is not a good sign, but don’t put too much pressure on yourself.”

The surging tide of magic brings countless possibilities.

Who knows if a dragon will fly out of some alley and into the arms of some bastard Dragonlord.

“Be gentle, don’t pinch.” Rhaegar shook his head and breathed lightly: “I will conquer Volantis, find the young dragons of the Smoking Sea, and burn down Slaver’s Bay.”

“Good boy.” Rhaenyra’s eyes softened, and she pulled him into her arms, unbuttoning his shirt.

“No, not here.”

“Then come out.”

They pushed and shoved, falling into the soft bed.

Rhaenyra’s lips curved up, and like a valiant knightess, she pinned Rhaegar down.

“I have to go to the Vale tomorrow.”

At this critical moment, Rhaegar suddenly spoke up.

Rhaenyra froze, her eyebrows furrowing. “This is a very bad time to say this.”

“I’ve just noticed that too.” Rhaegar tilted his head and gave a wry smile.

He had go to the Vale, discuss the handling of the opposition there, and take a look at his two daughters.

Rhaenyra remained silent for a long moment.

Outside, clouds obscured the moonlight, causing the room to gradually darken.

Gritting her teeth, Rhaenyra finally spoke, her voice strained, “Rhaegar, I'm... sorry for what I did to that child.”

The hidden conflict between the siblings had simmered for too long. Day after day, year after year, they had clung to their resentment, mistaking it for satisfaction and revenge. But as time passed and the girl grew up, news of her loneliness reached Rhaenyra’s ears. She saw her own children, lively and cheerful, and her heart softened with guilt.

Tonight, she thought, why not try to mend things?

Rhaegar's eyes were vacant as he held Rhaenyra by the waist, moving back to rest his head on the pillow. He wasn’t the one who had been hurt, and he had nothing left to say. He could only blame himself.

“I'll take the child back to King's Landing,” he said quietly, “and give her the name she deserves.”

Rhaenyra bit her lower lip before speaking again. “Baelon sent his dragon egg to the Vale, thinking I wouldn't find out.”

It was Joanna who discovered Baelon's dragon egg was missing. A child trying to mend relationships between parents and siblings, and Rhaenyra didn't want to disappoint her eldest son’s good intentions. At least, it was a start.

Plop!

Rhaegar suddenly rolled over, gazing at her with deep affection. “You will always be my beloved, Rhaenyra.”

"I don't like to be called that way," she replied with a smile, rolling him back down and leaning over him. “What should you call me?”

Rhaegar was stunned, then whispered, "Sister."