As the wedding drew near, Daenerys grew more and more frightened, and could scarcely sleep most nights.
At Illyrio’s estate, people bustled about every day on preparations for the wedding.
Weavers, maids, and servants carrying trunks came and went, and the entire estate seemed to be turning itself toward the ceremony.
They spoke of gifts and every last detail of the wedding.
It was not that Daenerys had never thought of running away.
But now she could not even leave her room.
Everywhere around her were people watching her.
And her brother, Viserys, would never allow her to escape.
These days, he spent all his time with Illyrio, discussing how to send the Dothraki to Westeros.
Each time the Iron Throne was mentioned, his eyes would shine, as though that iron chair were already beneath him.
Whenever Daenerys saw him, she would instinctively keep her distance, afraid she might say the wrong thing and anger him.
At the thought, Jon’s figure appeared in her mind.
“Jon, if you truly mean to come for me…
then come a little sooner.”
Sitting on the bed, Daenerys murmured under her breath.
She did not know whether Jon would come, or when.
Perhaps he was only something she had imagined.
These past few days, she could not stop herself from going outside and looking up at the sky from time to time, hoping to see Jon appear there on Frostflame.
Three days later, at noon.
Illyrio was in the garden, holding a feast for several wealthy merchants.
The tables were laden with fruit, honey cakes, cheese, olives, and spiced wine.
The merchants held their cups, smiles spread across their faces.
“Prince, with the Dothraki joining us, the Iron Throne will soon be yours again.”
A wealthy merchant lifted his cup and spoke with a smile.
“Once I take the Iron Throne, none of you seated here will be forgotten!”
Viserys sat beside Illyrio, his face flushed with delight.
He raised his cup, drained it in one gulp, then burst into loud laughter.
Jorah Mormont stood not far from Daenerys, his gaze sweeping the surroundings from time to time as he guarded her carefully.
Just then, a commotion suddenly rose outside the estate.
“What is happening?”
Someone pushed open a window and looked outside.
A scream rang out from the street.
Soon, more voices came from the distance, and the crowd in the streets began to stir.
A faint, low rumble came from the sky.
The sound drew nearer and nearer, until even the windows began to tremble.
Everyone looked up at once.
Above the clouds, a huge white shape was flying toward Pentos.
“What is going on?”
Viserys frowned.
A servant stumbled into the garden, his face deathly pale, and nearly fell flat on the ground.
“S-something is flying toward us from the sky!”
No sooner had he spoken than the screams outside swelled sharply.
The next moment, the clouds in the distance were torn apart, and the white shape swept swiftly over the city, its vast shadow passing across the streets below.
Daenerys ran out of the hall and looked up, scarcely daring to believe her eyes.
When the people in the streets saw the white shape, they screamed and scattered in every direction.
Horses reared and neighed in fright.
Guards drew their weapons.
The once quiet streets fell into chaos in an instant.
The bells on the city walls suddenly rang.
Once.
Twice.
Their urgent tolling soon spread across all of Pentos.
The guards did not know what it was.
They only knew the thing in the sky was larger than an elephant.
Some of the old folk had already fallen to their knees in the street, murmuring legends passed down for a hundred years.
“Screeaaah!”
A deafening roar suddenly came from high above.
The sound drowned out the clamor of the whole city, and the windows on both sides of the street shook.
Some people crouched on the ground with their hands over their ears.
Others turned and fled.
That enormous white shadow swept over Pentos once more.
This time, Daenerys finally saw it clearly, and her heart began to pound violently.
The familiar figure almost made her forget to breathe.
Frostflame.
She saw the white scales, and she saw those purple slit pupils appearing and vanishing among the clouds.
It was exactly as it had been in her dreams.
Daenerys stared blankly at the sky.
“It really came…”
She murmured softly, not even noticing the tremor in her own voice.
When Viserys saw the giant dragon in the sky, he was already trembling with excitement.
“A dragon…
It’s a dragon.
The dragon of House Targaryen has returned.”
He seized his sister by the shoulders and spoke in a rush, almost incoherent.
“Do you see it, Dany?
The dragon has returned!”
“Come…
hurry, we must go find my dragon.”
But Daenerys was not listening to a word he said, and the people around them paid no attention to his mad ravings.
She only watched as the white dragon circled again and again above the city, then flew toward the hills to the north and landed on a small mound.
Jorah Mormont stared at the white dragon.
He had clearly recognized what sort of creature it was, and for a long while he stood without speaking.
“Follow it, Jorah.”
Yet he remained where he was and urged, “Prince, no!
That is a dragon…
it is far too dangerous.”
Daenerys gazed at the giant dragon on the distant hill and murmured, “They have come for me.”
Ignoring Jorah’s warning, she seized the chaos to mount a riderless horse, then galloped without hesitation toward the hill outside the city.
She was certain that dragon was Frostflame.
Jorah watched Daenerys ride away, his expression shifting several times before he finally swung himself onto a horse and gave chase.
At first, the warhorse beneath Daenerys ran freely, but the closer it came to the hill, the slower it grew.
A faint smell of sulfur hung in the air, making it toss its head uneasily.
Hot breath kept steaming from its nostrils, and its hooves began to falter.
In the distance, Frostflame lay among the rocks, watching calmly in her direction.
In the end, the warhorse stopped in place and kept neighing, refusing to take another step forward no matter how she urged it on.
With no other choice, Daenerys dismounted at once, released the reins, and patted its neck.
“Go back.”
By now, the gates of Pentos had been shut.
The city walls were crowded with people, all watching the girl with bated breath.
On the hillside, Jon, seated on Frostflame’s back, saw Daenerys as well.
She was walking quickly toward them.
Without hesitation, Jon patted the dragon, letting her know he meant to get down.
Frostflame lowered her body.
Jon leapt from her back, his black cloak snapping in the wind, the hilt of Longclaw at his waist glinting coldly.
The dragon’s purple slit pupils watched Daenerys in silence as she approached them.
She lowered her head, her nostrils flaring softly.
The next moment, a low rumble came from her throat.
When Daenerys heard that familiar sound, her eyes grew hot.
The distance between them grew smaller and smaller.
At last, Daenerys stopped in front of Jon.
She opened her mouth, only to find she did not know what to say.
All their exchanges before had taken place in dreams.
Now that she truly saw Jon before her, she found herself unable to speak.
“Dany.”
“I’ve come for you.”