Six months after the Battle of Astoria
Marcos Vidal had learned that building an empire was significantly more complicated than defeating armies with magic.
"No, no, NO." Marcos rubbed his temples as he looked at financial reports. "How is it possible that we have a trade deficit if I can literally create resources out of thin air?"
Look, now the official Minister of Economy of the Empire, he sighed with the patience of someone who had had this conversation many times.
"Because it's not all about having resources. It's about distribution, demand, perceived value, and complex business relationships with six different cities." He gestured to some charts. "Also, if you create too much of something, its value collapses. Basic economics."
"I hate basic economics." Marcos dropped his head onto the table. "I'd rather fight Khals ."
"The Khals don't require quarterly cash flow analysis." Mira smiled. "But you're improving. Last month you just wanted to 'create more gold.'"
—That would have worked.
"It would have caused massive inflation and collapsed our currency." Mira gathered her papers. " Trust me. This works better."
When Mira left, Garrett came in with his own stack of reports.
—Chief, I need to talk about the army.
—Please tell me it's good news.
"It depends on your definition of 'good.'" Garrett sat down. "We have two thousand trained soldiers now. A combination of original Second Sons, recruits from our villages, and mercenaries who've joined along the way. It's a respectable force."
-That sounds good.
"Except that two thousand soldiers require massive logistics. Weapons, ongoing training, salaries, food, lodging..." Garrett sighed. "And half of them have never been in actual combat. Only training."
" Are you saying we need war to train our army?" Marcos raised an eyebrow.
"No. I'm saying that if there's a war, half our forces are going to be terrified." Garrett shrugged. "But it's better than having no army."
—Valid point. —Marcos took notes—. Anything else?
"Yes. Daenerys ." Garrett smiled. "She's been training with the soldiers. Every day. Four hours. Sword, bow, hand-to-hand combat. She's... impressively good."
"I know. I train with her sometimes." Marcos couldn't help but smile. "She's dedicated."
"She's clearly in love with you too," Garrett said casually. "Everyone knows it. Even the new recruits notice. It's obvious."
—Garrett...
"And you're in love with her. Just as obvious." Garrett leaned back. "So, when are you going to do something about it?"
"When it's appropriate. We've already had this conversation." Marcos became defensive. "She's fourteen now. I'm twenty-eight. It's not appropriate yet."
"In this world, fourteen is old enough to get married," Garrett pointed out. "I'm not saying it's right by your standards, but it's the norm here."
"My standards don't change just because the world has changed." Marcos looked at him seriously. "I'm going to wait until I'm at least sixteen. Preferably eighteen. When I'm a real adult."
" You're too honorable for your own good." Garrett laughed. "But I respect that. Just... don't keep her waiting too long. The heart is patient, but not infinite."
When Garrett left, Marcos was left alone with his thoughts.
Daenerys .
In six months, it had changed dramatically.
She was no longer the frightened little girl he had rescued. She was a confident, capable young woman who naturally took on leadership roles. She participated in every council meeting. She offered valuable opinions. People genuinely respected her.
And yes, she had become beautiful. Not only physically (although that too), but in the way she carried herself. Grace, dignity, strength.
And Marcos was completely, hopelessly in love with her.
Which was a problem, considering that he still believed they should wait.
—Complicated—he muttered to himself. —Everything is so complicated.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.
-Forward.
Daenerys entered, dressed in training gear: leather pants, a light tunic, and boots. Her hair was styled in a practical braid. She looked like a warrior.
—Marcos, I need to talk to you.
"Always. Sit down ." Marcos pointed to a chair.
Daenerys sat down, but she seemed nervous.
—It's about... us.
Marcos' heart raced.
— Okay ...
"I know we said we'd wait. That you'd give me time to grow. And I appreciate that. I really do." Daenerys looked directly at him. "But it's been six months. I'm fourteen. And in this world, that's... long enough for a lot of things."
—Dany...
" Let me finish." She raised her hand. "I'm not asking us to... to do anything physical. Not yet. I know that makes you uncomfortable, and I respect your boundaries." She paused. "But can we at least... acknowledge what's between us? Officially? Not secretly?"
—What do you mean ?
"I want people to know there's something between us. That we're eventually going to be together." Daenerys blushed. "We don't need to get married now. We don't even need to call it dating if that makes you feel weird. Just... acknowledgment that there's intent. Future commitment."
Marcos processed that.
It was... reasonable. He wasn't asking for immediate marriage. Just public acknowledgment of what everyone already knew anyway.
" Why now?" he asked gently. "Did something happen?"
"An ambassador from Qarth arrived this morning." Daenerys frowned. "He brought a marriage proposal. From one of the wealthiest merchants in the city. He offered a massive trade alliance in exchange for my hand."
Marcos felt something dark and possessive roar in his chest.
—And what did you say?
"That I wasn't interested. That my commitments were to Astoria, not Qarth ." Daenerys smiled slightly. "But it made me think: it's going to keep happening. I'm a Targaryen . I have political value. Men are going to keep asking for my hand, offering things in return."
—And you want them to know you're unavailable. —Marcos understood.
"Exactly." Daenerys leaned forward. "If there's a public commitment between us, those proposals stop. And I can... I can focus on what matters without being treated like a commercial prize."
Marcos remained silent for a long time.
It was a big decision. Public commitment meant social obligation. Expectations. Pressure.
But it also meant honesty. No more pretending that their feelings didn't exist.
" Okay," he finally said. "But with conditions."
- Which is it?
—First: we're still waiting for anything serious physical. No matter what society says. We'll wait until you're at least sixteen. Preferably older.
—I accept. — Daenerys nodded immediately.
—Second: if at any point you change your mind, if you decide you don't love me or that you want something different, you have complete freedom to end the engagement. No pressure. No consequences.
"I'm not going to change my mind." Daenerys said it with absolute conviction.
" Even so. I want you to know that you have that option," Marcos insisted.
— Okay . I accept. Third condition?
—Third: We're making this public, but in a way that respects your autonomy. It's not "Mark chose a wife." It's " Daenerys and Mark are mutually engaged." Mutual choice. Equality.
Daenerys felt tears of happiness.
—Are you... are you saying yes?
"I'm saying yes." Marcos smiled at her. "Formal commitments, public acknowledgment, with the intention of eventual marriage when we're both ready."
Daenerys threw herself into his arms.
—Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Marcos hugged her tightly.
"There's nothing to thank me for. This is what we both want. We're just being honest about it."
They remained like that for a moment.
Then Marcos gently pulled away.
—We should announce it at the council meeting tomorrow. Formally.
—And then?
"Then... I suppose we'll plan for the future. Together. Officially." Marcos smiled at her. "The way it's supposed to be."
The next day:
The Imperial Council meeting was packed. All the ministers, representatives from every town, military captains, and several important citizens were present.
Marcos stood up.
"Before we begin with the regular reports, there's a personal announcement." He glanced at Daenerys , who was seated beside him. " Daenerys and I have decided to formalize our engagement. With the intention of eventual marriage, when we are both ready."
There was a moment of silence.
Then Garrett began to applaud.
—FINALLY ! They took long enough!
Others joined in. Applause, shouts of congratulations, laughter.
Mero stood up.
—This calls for a celebration! A party! Wine! Lots of wine!
"We still have work to do..." Marcos began.
" Work can wait!" Mero was already pouring wine. "Our leader has made a commitment! This is historic!"
The council meeting turned into an impromptu celebration.
Daenerys was beaming, accepting congratulations from everyone.
Marcos watched with a mixture of amusement and slight panic.
" What have we gotten ourselves into?" he whispered to Daenerys .
"Something beautiful." She took his hand. "And terrifying. And perfect."
Two weeks later:
News of the engagement had spread throughout Essos .
The reactions were... varied.
From Norvos : Formal congratulations. Diplomatic gift of fine fabrics.
From Qarth : Barely veiled disappointment. Withdrawal of marriage proposal.
From Pentos : Absolute silence. But spies reported that Illyrio was furious.
From Khal Drogo: A personal letter that read: " Maegi , I heard you finally claimed the dragon girl. Well done. When you marry, I'll send a gift. Perhaps a horse. Perhaps a sword. I haven't decided yet. -Drogo"
Marcos laughed for five minutes straight while reading that letter.
But there was one answer I didn't expect.
From Braavos , the most powerful city of the Free Cities, came a formal ambassador.
He was a young man, elegantly dressed, with perfect manners.
"Lord Vidal, Lady Targaryen ." He bowed perfectly. "I am Syrio. " Naharis , envoy of the Sealord of Braavos . I bring a proposal.
" What kind of proposal?" Marcos asked cautiously.
—A formal alliance between Braavos and the Astorian Empire.— Syrio produced documents.— Trade, mutual defense, cultural exchange. Braavos sees potential in your empire. We want to be allies, not competitors.
—And what does Braavos want in return?
"Access to their medical technology. Potions ." Syrio stated it directly. " Braavos is willing to pay handsomely."
"I don't sell potions in bulk." Marcos shook his head. "They're too powerful."
"Understood. Then I propose an alternative: training. Send your people to teach our healers your methods. Not the potions themselves, but the knowledge." Syrio smiled. "And in return, Braavos offers something unique: access to the Iron Bank."
Marcos straightened up.
The Iron Bank of Braavos was the most financially powerful institution in the known world.
— What type of access?
"Unlimited line of credit. Backed by Braavos ." Syrio spelled out the terms. "Indeed, the bank backs your empire. That means merchants worldwide will trust your currency. Your economy will stabilize instantly."
Mira, sitting on the council, had her eyes wide open.
—That's it... that would change everything. We would be a legitimate economy.
" What does Braavos REALLY want?" Daenerys asked with healthy suspicion. "No one offers so much for no reason."
"Correct perception, Lady Targaryen ." Syrio nodded respectfully. " Braavos seeks an ally against slavers. Specifically, against the cities of Slaver's Bay. We have heard your statements regarding the abolition of slavery. We share that goal."
—Does Braavos want us to attack the slave cities? —Marcos understood.
"Eventually, yes. Not now. They're not ready. But in the future, when they're stronger, Braavos wants an ally committed to destroying the slave trade." Syrio leaned forward. "We provide financial resources. You provide military strength and political will. Together, we can change Essos permanently."
It was a huge proposal.
And tempting.
"I need time to consider it." Marcos glanced at his council. "Private meeting. One hour."
Syrio nodded and politely withdrew.
When he left, everyone started talking at the same time.
—This is incredible!
—This is cheating!
—We need this!
—It 's too risky!
Marcos raised his hand for silence.
—One by one. Look, financial analysis.
"It's legitimate. The Iron Bank never breaks its word. If they offer backing, they'll honor it." Mira nodded. "It would solve 90% of our financial problems."
—Garrett, military analysis.
"It would commit us to an eventual war against Astapor , Yunkai , and Meereen . Those cities are powerful. They have Unsullied." Garrett frowned. "But it's a war you were already planning anyway. This just formalizes it."
— Daenerys , political analysis.
"An alliance with Braavos gives us international legitimacy. Other cities will take us seriously," Daenerys thought. "But it also paints us as a target. Slavers will see us as an existential threat."
"We're already an existential threat to them," Marcos pointed out. "Only now we'd be a threat with financial backing."
—So you accept . —It wasn't a question.
"I accept. But with modified terms." Marcos began to write. "We are not subordinates of Braavos . We are equal allies. Military decisions are ours. The timing of any campaign against slavers is ours. Braavos provides resources, not orders."
"That's better." Garrett nodded. "It maintains autonomy."
—And we added a clause: if Braavos is at war with someone else, we are not obligated to participate unless it is mutual defense. —Marcos continued writing—. We are not going to be dragged into wars that are not ours.
They all nodded in agreement.
An hour later, Syrio returned.
Marcos presented modified terms.
Syrio read them carefully.
She smiled.
"The Sealord predicted that modifications would be made. He said he would respect a leader who negotiates more than one who blindly accepts." He extended his hand. " Braavos accepts your terms."
Marcos shook his hand.
—Then we have an alliance.
"More than an alliance," Syrio smiled. "We have a partnership. To build a better world."
That night:
Marcos was on his private balcony, processing everything that had happened.
In two weeks: formal engagement to Daenerys , alliance with Braavos , backing from the most powerful Iron Bank in the world.
It was massive progress.
And terrifying.
Daenerys approached silently, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind.
—What are you thinking about ?
"Just six months ago we were defending ourselves against Pentos . Now we're forming alliances with Braavos ." Marcos turned to look at her. "Everything is growing so fast."
— Do you regret it?
"Never." Marcos stroked her face. "Only... sometimes speed scares me. Like everything's about to collapse."
"It's not going to collapse." Daenerys placed her hand on his. "Because you're not alone. You have me. You have Garrett. You have Mero. You have the entire council. You have thirteen hundred people who believe in what you're building."
"What we're building," Marcos corrected. "It's not just me. It never was just me."
"Then we're together. In everything." Daenerys stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "Until the very end."
—Until the end. —Marcos hugged her.
On the horizon, the lights of Astoria shone.
The empire was growing.
Alliances were being formed.
The enemies took note.
And two people, from different worlds, built something that would last forever.
Or at least, they were going to try.
With everything they had.
Together.
[END OF CHAPTER 19]