On the walls of Pentos, Illyrio, who had been watching the hill all along, also saw what was happening there.
The dragon had a master.
And this Dragonrider had not attacked anyone first, which was undoubtedly good news.
After thinking for a moment, he decided to send an envoy first to learn why this Dragonrider had come to Pentos.
Illyrio summoned an official.
He was a slightly plump middle-aged man, dressed in the loose robes common in Pentos, with a neatly trimmed short beard.
“Go to the hill.”
The official followed his gaze, and fear immediately showed on his face.
“My lord, there is a dragon there.”
“I know.”
Illyrio toyed with the jeweled ring on his finger, his eyes narrowing as he said, “Tell him we bear him no ill will.
We only wish to know why he has come to Pentos.”
“Ask whether there is anything we can do to help him.”
The official quickly nodded.
Illyrio gave one more instruction.
“Do not go too close to him, and above all, do not anger the dragon or its rider.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Watching the man leave, Illyrio looked once more toward the distant hill.
A dragon, vanished from the world for a hundred years, had appeared before men again, and it had a Dragonrider.
This matter was far too astonishing.
It had to be handled with care.
Before long, the envoy arrived at the foot of the hill.
He did not dare come any closer, so he stood at a distance and called out loudly, “My lord, I am an envoy sent by the Magister of Pentos.”
“The Magister heard of your arrival and specially sent me to offer his greetings.”
“If there is anything you require in Pentos, we will do all we can to assist you.”
Jon, who was speaking with Daenerys, heard the voice and turned to look at the envoy below the hill.
“Come here.”
Only then did the envoy let out a breath of relief and carefully make his way up the slope.
When he came close, he instinctively glanced at Frostflame lying on the ground.
The moment he met those cold purple slit pupils, sweat quickly broke out across his brow.
Jon reached out and stroked Frostflame’s head.
Only after she had quieted again did he look toward the envoy.
“I received word that some members of my house survived.”
“I came here only to find them.
I have no intention of making an enemy of Pentos.”
Hearing the Dragonrider’s purpose, the envoy instinctively breathed a sigh of relief.
“If there is anything you need from Pentos, please speak freely.”
“I must report this to the Magister at once.
Forgive my discourtesy.”
With that, he bowed to Jon, unwilling to remain a moment longer, and quickly left the hill.
Not long afterward, the official returned to Pentos and reported everything that had happened on the hill to Illyrio in full.
After learning that the dragon would not attack Pentos, the most powerful Magister in the city also let out a breath of relief.
He called over the steward of the estate and gave a few instructions.
Before long, a group of servants and several maids came from the city to the hill, bringing tents, chairs, and a large amount of food and water.
At the same time, the envoy conveyed Illyrio’s invitation.
He hoped this honored Dragonrider would enter Pentos to rest, where countless delicacies and fine wines had already been prepared.
Jon accepted the invitation, but said he had matters to handle today and intended to enter the city tomorrow instead.
He also accepted everything they had brought.
As for the maids, he politely refused them.
In a city completely unfamiliar to him, he would not lower his guard so easily just because the other side had shown some goodwill.
After asking Jon’s opinion, the envoy chose a relatively flat place and began setting up the camp.
The servants moved everything with great care.
No one dared speak, afraid of disturbing the dragon lying nearby.
Frostflame watched them the entire time.
Before long, a spacious camp had been set up.
“Give my regards to Magister Illyrio.
I have received his kindness, but for now I still have some matters to deal with…”
Jon stopped there and did not continue.
The envoy immediately understood his meaning.
He nodded at once and forced a smile onto his face.
“I will be certain to convey your words, my lord.”
“I look forward to meeting you in the city tomorrow.
I shall not disturb you further.”
With that, he bowed, then turned and left the camp with the servants.
Only the Targaryen siblings and Jorah Mormont remained in the camp.
“Come, Dany.
I have much to say to you.”
After saying this, Jon led Daenerys into the camp.
Just as they reached the tent entrance, he turned back and glanced at Viserys and Jorah.
“I need to speak with Dany alone.
Will you stay here, or return to Pentos?”
The two exchanged a look.
Seeing that Jon plainly meant for them to leave, how could they dare remain?
“We will return to Pentos.”
After stealing another glance at Frostflame, Viserys left with Jorah, whose face was full of worry.
“Dany, sit for a while.
Do not eat any of these things yet.”
Daenerys nodded without speaking.
She sat obediently in the chair, her eyes following Jon all the while.
For Jon, who had always lived in a land of wind and snow, the damp heat of Pentos was difficult to bear.
He unfastened his heavy black cloak and leather gloves, set them aside, then sat down across from Daenerys.
Beneath his black hair, his deep gray eyes were calm and dark, quietly watching the girl before him.
“Dany, outside, I am now called Aegon Targaryen.”
“I know.”
Daenerys spoke softly, her slender fingers resting on the hem of her skirt.
“You told me long ago in my dreams.”
The corners of Jon’s mouth lifted slightly, but he quickly put the smile away.
“Tell me what you have seen with your own eyes in Pentos these past days, especially regarding this man Illyrio.”
Daenerys thought for a moment, contemplation showing in her violet eyes.
“He has been very good to us…
at least on the surface.”
She spoke slowly.
“The food, the clothes, the place we live, all of it was provided by him.
Even everything needed for the wedding is being arranged by him.”
“But you still do not trust him?”
Daenerys shook her head and said with some hesitation, “I do not know…
only, I always feel that he is too good to us.”
“He rarely speaks with me.
Most of the time, he discusses matters privately with Viserys.
What they speak of most is Westeros, the Iron Throne…
and Khal Drogo.”
Jon nodded lightly and continued listening.
“That is what they speak of openly, but I feel…
what he truly wants is not as simple as helping Viserys restore his kingdom.”
“What have you noticed?”
“I cannot really say.”
Daenerys frowned slightly.
“Sometimes I feel that the way Illyrio looks at Viserys is not the way one looks at a future king…”
She paused.
“It is more like the way one looks at a tool.”
Jon listened and nodded inwardly.
Illyrio’s help had never been pure from the beginning.
“And Viserys?”
At the name, Daenerys’s eyes dimmed.
“He has become more and more frightening.”
“Every day, he speaks of returning to Westeros, as though everyone should obey him as a matter of course because he has the blood of the Dragonlord in him…”
Daenerys lowered her head, and her voice grew softer and softer.
“He even thinks marrying me to Drogo is a sacrifice he has every right to demand.”
Jon’s brow tightened, and his gray eyes turned wholly cold.
“Has he hurt you?”
Daenerys shook her head, lightly clenching her hands.
“I understand.”
Jon did not press further.
From Daenerys’s words, he had already confirmed two things.
Illyrio had other designs.
And Viserys was drawing ever closer to losing control.
Daenerys lifted her head, her violet eyes fixed on him, and asked worriedly, “You came here alone.
Won’t your family worry about you?”
Jon looked at her, and the coldness in his eyes quietly faded.
“I left a letter and told them everything I could.”
He paused, then said softly, “Besides, I am not alone.”
As he spoke, Jon looked outside the tent.
“I have Frostflame.”
Daenerys followed his gaze.
The dragon lay quietly in the night, her white scales catching the moonlight with a faint sheen.
“Frostflame…”
Daenerys murmured the name softly, a trace of longing appearing in her eyes.
She had finally seen the dragon from her dreams.
“When is the wedding?”
Jon brought the conversation back to the matter before them.
The smile on Daenerys’s face slowly disappeared, and her complexion turned a little pale.
“In two weeks.”
She whispered, “Illyrio says Khal Drogo can wait no longer and wants it held early.”
Daenerys looked at Jon, sorrow in her voice.
“Jon…
I do not want to marry him.”
“Then you will not.”
Jon’s answer was direct, without the slightest hesitation.