"On the way here, hitching a ride with the Ironborn, there was not a day I did not divine Your Grace's circumstances through the flames." Although he did not understand the Common Tongue well, this did not stop Moqorro from feeling smug that the Prophet had walked right into his grasp. He stared into Daenerys's bright purple eyes with his dark pupils. "You were seduced and misled by illusions into traveling to that land beside the shadow, where you suffered deception and mockery, and your power incurred great losses. The only fortunate thing is that you were never in true danger. The inhabitants of Asshai possess the most bizarre and powerful talents in the known world, but precisely because of this, they revere the Lord of Light's prophecy more than anyone else. As the Prophet, no matter how much those sorcerers coveted your power, they could only trick you into offering it willingly through deceit, and would never dare seize it by force."
Everyone present was dumbfounded, unable to make sense of what Moqorro was saying, much less how to respond. Daenerys's expression, however, changed instantly, becoming very strange.
Littlefinger could not sit still. Though the Red Priest's words aligned with his own views, he could not simply watch the Queen be deceived by a charlatan. "Forgive my bluntness, but those words could apply to ninety-nine out of a hundred people returning from a long journey. So long as one is willing to imagine, there will always be stories along the way that can confirm such ambiguous statements."
Moqorro smiled. Naturally, there were clever men around the Queen.
As a Red Priest, like all his brethren, he followed principles such as vagueness and guiding imagination when interpreting oracles and prophecies for believers. Explanations that were too clear would not only reduce the Lord of Light's aura of mystery in the minds of the faithful, but also make it far more difficult to smooth things over when interpretations proved wrong.
However, when it came to the Prophet, he did not need to follow those rules too strictly. A higher principle applied: he had to gain Daenerys's complete trust, guide her through difficulties and resistance, bring her back to her destined path, fulfill the prophecy, and defeat the Lord of Light's ancient enemy.
"The person who provided you with dragonriding presumptuously made a request they should not have, and you paid a price you should not have for something that should have been yours, a service you should have received freely." After a slight pause, the Red Priest decided to be clearer. "To put it simply in the Common Tongue, you were fleeced."
A price? What exactly had she paid to obtain dragonriding?
Petyr glanced at Daenerys, his body trembling almost imperceptibly.
He suddenly remembered: when their Queen had unexpectedly ridden a dragon east months ago, she had carried not a single coin. The only thing of value she possessed besides the dragon was herself. Yet now the Black Dragon had returned safely, and it even looked bigger and stronger. So could it be...
Daenerys Stormborn, the rightful monarch he served and the only hope of returning to Westeros, had actually relied on selling herself to obtain dragonriding?
Littlefinger's expression twisted slightly. Having spent many years in the Red Keep at King's Landing, he naturally knew how destructive a "dark history" could be for public figures such as monarchs. Robert could be debauched and disregard the opinions of the Seven Kingdoms because his position was secure, supported by his father-in-law and brothers. But Daenerys was an upstart queen about to seize the Iron Throne, and worse still, she was a woman.
In this world, people's tolerance for the same matter was entirely different for men and women.
A prince could flit among many flowers and leave his affections everywhere, but a queen could not.
Filled with frustration, Petyr Baelish quickly began to ponder the best way to control public opinion and minimize the damage. Daenerys, however, took a deep breath and allowed her body to relax completely.
This was no longer mere suggestion. The dark-skinned Red Priest before her had truly seen her experiences in the flames.
It was true, she had paid a price to obtain dragonriding. To put it simply, she had sold herself.
But this "selling herself" was not the sordid matter Littlefinger was imagining. What Daenerys had actually done could, in fact, be taken quite literally.
---
Asshai was a city steeped in magic. Wizards, alchemists, moon singers, necromancers, pyromancers, and blood mages practiced spells and incantations freely, performing bizarre rituals and casting terrifying sorceries. It was as if all the extraordinary people, creatures, and events of the world were gathered there. Daenerys rode her dragon across thousands of mountains and rivers to reach the city, only to find that the people there were unlike any she had seen before. Though they watched curiously and pointed at Drogon, the dragon she rode, they showed no panic or fear. To them, seeing a dragon was no more than ordinary folk seeing a fine horse they could never afford to ride.
This utterly abnormal behavior quickly made Daenerys realize that this place, filled with the strange and unusual, where even dragons caused no stir, might truly possess the dragonriding she sought.
Finding it was easier than she had imagined. There was no need to uncover secrets, explore, or embark on some grand adventure. Dragonriding was treated like a commodity, set upon a shelf in a place that resembled a shop, and anyone who could pay the price could take it.
The item was there, but obtaining it was the problem. Its price exceeded the wealth of Meereen's treasury, let alone what she had brought with her. And her instincts told her that trying to purchase it as she had bought Unsullied in Astapor was neither reasonable nor possible here.
So the only option was to negotiate.
The owner firmly rejected her proposal of payment after delivery and instead demanded the dragon she rode. Without dragonriding, Daenerys would have three dragons yet be unable to use them. By trading one black dragon for dragonriding, she could not only control the other two, but also receive a full set of dragon-rearing techniques that would allow her to breed more.
It was not an excessive demand, but it was one no mother could ever accept. Daenerys firmly refused and left, camping outside Asshai with her dragon as she searched for another solution. Then, the mysterious figure who had appeared in her illusions and driven her here suddenly appeared before her again.
...
Drogon spread his wings and flew off in search of prey, while Quaithe appeared by the black river, wearing the same trailing hooded robe she had worn at their last meeting. The red-painted mask beneath her hood was as sharp-featured as ever, reflecting the dim sunlight of Asshai.
"I thought I would never see you again." Daenerys did not know if this was an illusion or a dream, but having seen this woman before, she chose to go straight to the point. "To reach the Westerlands, you must go east. If you want light, you must pass through shadow. It seems I did not misinterpret. You wanted me to come to Asshai, and I came."
"You have shown wisdom, Daenerys Targaryen. I am pleased."
"There are already enough sycophants in Meereen's court." Daenerys was disgusted by Quaithe's cryptic tone. "I found what I wanted, but I cannot afford it. You said you would show me the way, so help me."
"Reason tells you that untrained dragons will turn your kingdom into ruins, while experience tells you that you cannot possibly trade a dragon for it. Following reason while also learning from experience, that is wisdom. Do not mistake sincere praise for flattery." The masked woman reached out from beneath her robe, holding a strangely textured, rolled-up book between her long fingers. "As for what you want, it is here."
Daenerys's pupils dilated at once. What Quaithe held was the Dragonriding Manual she had seen earlier in Asshai.
"You want it." Quaithe raised the book, then slowly squatted down and placed it on a round stone by her feet. "The fact is, without it, you cannot reclaim your kingdom. Unfortunately, without a mentor, you will never understand its contents."
"I am tired of riddles and cryptic advice." Daenerys brushed aside a strand of silver hair that blocked her vision, suppressing the urge to snatch the book. "If you are my friend, then help me master dragonriding."
"I can help you, but there is a price."
"What is the price?"
"You will know soon enough."
"I do not want soon. I want it now, immediately, at once." Daenerys raised her voice. "In the Queen's name, I command you..."
"Rest first. If you are curious, leaf through this book. After reviewing it, we can begin." The mysterious woman vanished as suddenly as she had appeared. By the round stone beside the black river, there was no hooded robe, no red-painted mask, no Quaithe. Only the book lay there alone.
(To be continued.)