Ronnet Connington SI

-Chapter 29-

-POV Daenerys-

The desert had nearly claimed me—thirst, hunger, and solitude. Each step in the Red Waste seemed to lead my dragons and me to a certain death, but as defeat threatened to swallow us, the towering walls of Qarth appeared on the horizon, like a shimmering mirage.

Under the enormous arch of the main gate, the city looked unlike anything I had ever seen before. The buildings rose high, adorned with sculptures and precious stones, the streets teeming with merchants, slaves, and lords in shimmering robes.

It was an oasis in the middle of the desert, a vision that promised refuge and perhaps even aid for my cause.

Xaro Xhoan Daxos, an influential merchant of Qarth, had offered his protection, inviting me into his home. Although his generosity seemed sincere, there was something in his smile, something in his eyes that told me to be wary. But did I really have a choice?

"My queen," he began, his exotic accent making his words almost sing, "Qarth is the greatest city the world has ever seen, and it is an honor to have you here."

I nodded in gratitude, keeping my dragons close to me while saying, "Thank you, Xaro, your hospitality is a blessing after the desert."

He laughed softly. "I can imagine. But tell me, Khaleesi, what brings you to Qarth with these magnificent creatures?"

Visions of an iron throne, armies, ships, and freedom for my people filled my mind, but I held back.

"I seek allies, and perhaps a home for my children," I replied, gesturing to my dragons.

He smiled again, this time with a glint of ambition in his eyes. "Perhaps Qarth and I can help you."

I hoped he was sincere, for despite the splendor of Qarth, I knew that every corner hid danger. But with every danger came an opportunity, and I intended to seize it.

The home of the Spice King was more of a palace than a house. Carved columns framed the entrance, and a fountain flowed gently, its waters tinkling like music.

But it was the aroma that struck me most intensely, an intoxicating blend of exotic spices that floated in the air, reminiscent of the markets of Pentos.

Xaro, walking with the confidence of a man who knew every corner of this city, led me through the opulent halls of the palace.

Each room was a spectacle in itself, with golden tapestries, ebony statues, and cups filled with precious stones that sparkled in the torchlight.

Finally, we entered a vast hall where the Spice King himself was seated. He lounged nonchalantly, surrounded by advisors and courtiers, looking more like a monarch than a merchant. His eyes, however, were cunning and calculating.

"The last Targaryen," he said, his voice rich and mocking. "They say you want to save Westeros. But from what, my dear? The war is over... The lions roar in King's Landing, and the rest of Westeros bends the knee."

"How?" I asked, not understanding.

"Ronnet Connington, by assassinating Renly Baratheon, made an eternal enemy in Ronnet Connington. Ronnet Connington faced Stannis Baratheon at Storm's End with 50,000 men against over 70,000 soldiers bearing the stag banner embraced by the fire of the Lord of Light. In a matter of hours, Ronnet Connington broke this army. Stannis fled with 10,000 men, leaving the rest to die or be captured.

He paused to drink, then continued:

"A few moons later, he attacked the capital and managed to take it. Unfortunately for him, Queen Cersei Lannister convinced Ronnet Connington to form an alliance in exchange for Storm's End and the title of Supreme Lord of the Stormlands and Lord Protector."

I felt anger rising within me. The Conningtons had been loyal members of the crown, but ultimately, the griffons had also turned their backs on the dragon to submit to the lion. But I held back. "There are always injustices to be corrected," I replied, "and there are always loyal hearts waiting for the return of the dragons."

He laughed, a deep, resonant laugh. "The Starks are far in the North, and the Greyjoys are just raiders. Even then, none will kneel before you. Your cause is lost before it even begins."

"Every revolution starts with a spark," I retorted, my eyes locking onto his.

"And I have three dragons."

"Daenerys Targaryen," he said, twirling a gold cup adorned with gems between his fingers, "the last of her line, coming to Qarth with three little lizards and big dreams."

A mocking laugh echoed through the assembly.

I clenched my jaw, trying to stay calm. "They are not lizards," I replied, fire in my eyes, "they are dragons."

The Spice King leaned forward, his piercing eyes fixed on mine. "The dragons are dead, my dear, just like your house, just like your dreams of conquest."

His words were a dagger, but I refused to show it. I said in a tone filled with anger and pride, "My blood is the blood of the dragon, and my dragons grow every day. They are fire made flesh, and they will burn those who oppose me."

He burst into laughter and said, "You want to rule the Seven Kingdoms with dragons no bigger than dogs? You'd better sell them while they still have value. I offer a good price for an exotic toy."

I stood up, my gaze proud, and said, "My destiny is not to stay in Qarth as a toy or curiosity for men like you. Westeros belongs to me, and I will take it back."

He evaluated my gaze for a long moment before bursting into laughter again and saying with a disdainful attitude, "You are bold, I grant you that. But Westeros is no longer the land of your ancestors. Stay in Qarth, marry one of our lords. You will be treated like a queen."

I smiled softly. "I am already a queen. And my destiny awaits me in Westeros."

The air was heavy, charged with tension. The Spice King's mockery was palpable; every word he spoke, every gesture he made was designed to belittle me, to remind me of my place.

The Spice King looked at me, shocked, then a sneering smile appeared on his lips. "You have courage, Daenerys Stormborn, but will it be enough to reclaim a kingdom? I don't think so!"

'Only time would tell, but I would stop at nothing, with or without the help of Qarth' I thought, suppressing my rage deep within me.