The conversation around the table continued for almost an hour. The magisters continued to drop hints regarding the defense of the city and Lord Aeos's potential invasion, but Rhaenys remained entirely noncommittal about anything that they wanted to hear. She, at best, acknowledged their worries but offered no solution.
The magisters were not fools either. They realized perfectly well that Rhaenys was understanding their implications but she was deliberately acting the way she was. It was obvious. Either she did not wish to entertain the topic at all, or their approach was wrong. And they were inclined to lean toward the latter.
Their approach was wrong. They needed to bring something to the table. Something valuable enough for Rhaenys Targaryen to even consider an alliance, let alone commit to one. And what that something could be? They needed to discuss it among themselves.
"Lady Rhaenys. Magister Illyrio," one of the magisters finally said, standing up. "I believe we shall take our leave now."
"I imagine there are more pressing, private matters that Lady Rhaenys might wish to discuss with Lord Targaryen," he continued gracefully, his gaze moving between Rhaenys and Viserys. "We will see you at the feast tonight."
"Lady Rhaenys will surely be attending the feast, yes?" He asked, his eyes darting nervously from Illyrio to Rhaenys.
"Lady Rhaenys," Illyrio explained hastily, jumping in. "I have organized a small feast for this evening."
"The other Magisters of the city, along with prominent traders, merchants, and a few other important people have been invited. All of them would be thrilled to meet you and are in great anticipation of the feast."
"I was hoping you would grace us with your presence," he added, a note of sheer desperation creeping into his voice. "It would reflect quite poorly if the guest of honor did not attend her own feast."
"Very well," Rhaenys agreed after a moment of quiet contemplation. "I will attend. I will stay the night in Pentos."
Wide smiles bloomed on the faces of Illyrio and the rest of the magisters when they heard Rhaenys' response.
"Everyone will be extremely pleased to see you at the feast, Lady Rhaenys," one of the Magisters remarked with a beaming face.
They offered one final nod of deference and quickly took their leave.
"Prince Oberyn," Illyrio began, but he trailed off, his eyes darting nervously toward Rhaenys.
He did not know if the Dornishman intended to remain for the private discussions. After all, it was not Illyrio who had allowed him to sit at the table. It was Rhaenys who had invited him in, and if anyone had the authority to oust him, it was her. Rhaenys picked up on Illyrio's dilemma.
"Prince Oberyn," Rhaenys said softly. "You must be exhausted after the long journey from Qohor to Pentos. I imagine your body is demanding rest."
"Furthermore," she continued smoothly. "You will surely want time to prepare for the feast this evening. I am certain Magister Illyrio was just about to invite you."
"Yes, yes, of course," Illyrio nodded quickly. "Prince Oberyn, you and your entourage are most respectfully invited. You, Lady Ellaria, and Lady Arianne simply must attend."
"There is no other choice," he added with a wide smile.
Oberyn smirked as he rose from his seat.
"If you want me out of the room, just say it," he chuckled, looking directly at Rhaenys.
She did not react, save for a faint, amused smile playing on her lips.
"And thank you for the invitation," Oberyn added, shifting his gaze to Illyrio. "We will certainly be there."
With that, he turned and left the room, with Ellaria and Arianne following close behind.
With the Martells gone, only four people remained in the room. Rhaenys, Viserys, Daenerys, and Illyrio Mopatis.
The atmosphere, which had previously been light, polite and conversational, turned oppressive and suffocating in mere moments. The air turned thicker and chillier.
Rhaenys remained seated, her expression completely neutral save for a faint, knowing smile playing on her lips. She was calm, cool and composed.
Viserys was furious. He was gritting his teeth, his dark mood as obvious as it could have been from his expression. The sheer amount of adoration and attention showered upon Rhaenys by the magisters had completely enraged him.
Daenerys was sitting quietly, fidgeting with her fingers. She was anxious and nervous. She knew her brother all too well, and she knew exactly what must be going through his mind.
Illyrio felt much the same as Daenerys. Nervous and anxious, though perhaps a fraction less terrified. Unlike the young girl, who possessed absolutely no leverage, Illyrio held some sway over Viserys. He could project a measure of authority and stop the beggar king from crossing a certain line.
"I believe it is a matter of great joy that the last of the Targaryens have finally been united under one roof," Illyrio began, breaking the heavy silence. "House Targaryen has suffered greatly in recent years."
"And though I have not traditionally been a Targaryen loyalist myself, having done all I could for King Viserys and Princess Daenerys merely to repay a favor to a certain someone, I can understand what your true loyalists have endured. I also understand the great hope they will feel when they learn that your family is united once more."
"Three centuries ago, House Targaryen rose to power on the backs of dragons," he continued smoothly. "And this time, too, House Targaryen will rise again on the backs of dragons."
With those words, Illyrio cast the dice. Now, it was up to Viserys and Rhaenys to make their moves.
"You still have not told us, niece," Viserys ground out. "Where did you get the dragons? Or their eggs, perhaps? Did you hatch them yourself?"
The thin facade of civility Viserys had been struggling to maintain was rapidly shattering. He was a hair's breadth away from completely losing his temper and lashing out at her.
"I did not hatch them," she replied calmly.
"Then how did you find them?" Viserys demanded, not giving her a chance to finish her thought.
"In a way," she responded, "it was not I who found them."
"They reached out to me," she answered.
"How?" Viserys narrowed his eyes.
If the beasts had reached out to her, why could they not have reached out to him? If there was one Targaryen in the world they were meant to find, it should have been him. He was the true dragon.
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