The brown cowhide flap of the yurt was lifted.
Accompanied by a sickly sweet scent—a mix of laurel perfume and the stench of urine—a pregnant woman walked out, supported by two Dothraki girls.
Dany froze after just one glance.
Instead of a painted Dothraki vest, she wore a sheer lace dress from Myr.
The pale yellow hue accentuated her fair skin.
She had long silver hair cascading over her shoulders and hazy purple eyes.
If not for the memories in her mind reminding her otherwise, she would have almost thought she had run into another member of the Targaryen bloodline.
Before his death, Jon Arryn had cried out, “The seed is strong,” hinting at King Robert Baratheon’s tragic life as a cuckold.
People of the same bloodline often shared the same physical traits—like the black hair of House Baratheon, the auburn hair of House Tully, the golden hair of House Lannister, and the almost translucent silver-gold hair of House Targaryen.
In truth, silver hair and purple eyes were also the primary characteristics of the Valyrians.
Ever since Valyria was destroyed by a volcanic eruption four hundred years ago, the ancient civilization of dragons collapsed with it, and the bloodline of silver hair and purple eyes began to spread across the continent of Essos.
Encountering a woman with silver hair and purple eyes in the horselord’s khalasar at this time was nothing to be surprised about.
“Ah, it is the Khaleesi.” Unlike the petite and slender Dany, the silver-haired woman before her had a large frame, full breasts, and wide hips, along with a broad, square face.
She was a very typical Western beauty.
She was also older than Dany, approaching thirty.
The woman’s gaze was strange, harboring a bizarre mix of mockery, pity, jealousy, smugness, and malice.
Dany disliked it immensely.
Frowning, she asked, “Are you Lady Lilith?
Jhaqo’s wife?” “Heh, perhaps it won’t be long before I become a Khaleesi as well,” Lilith said, raising an eyebrow with a half-smile.
Once Khal Drogo died, his khalasar would elect a new Khal, and the Khal’s wife would become a Khaleesi.
In truth, the title of Khaleesi held little value in Dothraki culture.
Not counting the various khalasars roaming the plains, Vaes Dothrak alone housed dozens, nearly a hundred widowed Khaleesis—the dosh khaleen.
Just a few days ago, Drogo had arranged for a group of Dothraki warriors to escort two Khaleesis to Vaes Dothrak.
They were the widows of Khal Ogo and his son, leaders of another khalasar whom Drogo had slain.
Dany’s khas warriors were not the sharpest and failed to catch the vicious curse hidden in Lilith’s words.
Moreover, she had spoken in High Valyrian, which the horselords could hardly understand.
Otherwise, they would have either lashed her with a whip or shot an arrow straight through the woman’s pregnant belly.
Ser Jorah, however, narrowed his eyes sharply and said coldly, “I have never heard of Jhaqo taking a wife.
Even Khal Drogo has had many women, but it is a pity that only Princess Daenerys has ever become his Khaleesi.” He placed a heavy emphasis on the word ‘Princess,’ hinting at the importance of her status.
Lilith’s expression changed.
Whatever crossed her mind left her trembling with rage, her thick lips pressed tightly into a bitter, thin line.
After a long moment, she stumbled through her Dothraki, saying to Dany, “Khaleesi, do you intend to violate the glorious traditions of the great Dothraki once again by wantonly stealing the spoils of other warriors?” As previously noted, the original Dany had been incredibly kind and brave.
Unable to bear the sight of the horselords wantonly abusing captive women, she had forcibly taken them away from the Dothraki warriors.
The rescued women felt little gratitude toward her, while the Dothraki who had their ‘property’ stolen hated her to the bone.
The act of seizing a warrior’s “spoils” was a severe violation of Dothraki tradition.
“It is just a goose.” Dany clumsily untied a silver medallion from her waist and tossed it onto the ground.
“You cannot refuse a gift from your Khaleesi.
In return…” The large white goose that had just escaped from the fat cook had been pinned through its long neck by Kovarro’s arrow.
The shaft pierced its neck and buried itself a good four inches into the dirt.
The goose let out a weak, mournful honk, its bloodstained white feathers flapping feebly.
Dany pointed at the white goose on the ground.
“Now, it belongs to me.” The Dothraki not only lacked the institution of marriage, but they also lacked a financial system.
No, forget finance—they did not even have currency.
Without money to serve as a universal equivalent, there was no trade.
Whatever they needed, they either plundered or received as gifts from other peoples and city-states.
With a massive khalasar of a hundred thousand riders bearing down on their gates, not a single city on the continent of Essos dared to refuse offering gifts.
It was not as if the horselords, who pillaged the entire continent, lacked precious metals like gold and silver.
However, they forged their gold, silver, and copper into medallions, stringing them together to wear as belts around their waists.
Then, just as Dany was doing now, they conducted primitive trade through the mutual exchange of gifts.
For instance, Daenerys herself had been a gift from her older brother, Viserys, arranged by Magister Illyrio of Pentos and presented to the strongest Khal on the Dothraki Sea—the horselord Drogo.
(The Dothraki Sea: a vast expanse of grasslands in the east of Essos, facing Westeros across the Narrow Sea.
The plains were so massive that during the summer, the rolling grass resembled ocean waves.
It was the cradle of the powerful and primitive Dothraki people.) Strictly speaking, Daenerys had been sold to Khal Drogo like a slave.
Viserys had given Drogo a gift, and according to Dothraki tradition, the Khal was obligated to return a gift of equal value: ten thousand Dothraki screamers, or Drogo leading his khalasar to sweep across Westeros and help House Targaryen reclaim their throne.
In other words, to help crown Viserys.
But the overbearing Dothraki had a very bad habit.
*You give me a gift, and I should give you one in return, but when and how I give it is entirely up to me.* Viserys was consumed by a manic obsession to restore his kingdom.
Seeing his sister’s belly swell with a child soon to be born, while Drogo not only failed to give him soldiers but showed absolutely no intention of personally helping him reclaim his throne, drove him over the edge.
He began to harass Drogo relentlessly, acting like a petty thug hounding a deadbeat debtor.
Splashing paint, seizing and selling off property, making harassing calls, threatening the safety of family members, standing at the door hurling insults, physical assault…
The world of Ice and Fire naturally had no paint or telephones, but Viserys had mimicked almost all of these behaviors in his own way.
He beat and insulted Drogo’s wife—his own biological sister—and publicly berated Drogo for breaking his promises and, well, taking his sister for free.
The fool did not speak Dothraki and cursed in the Common Tongue of Westeros.
Drogo could not understand him, and the others, out of respect for Dany’s status as Khaleesi, refrained from translating it for the Khal.
Not to mention petty acts like trying to steal dragon eggs to sell for coin.
When Daenerys heard about that, she had even considered just giving her three dragon eggs to him.
Even more outrageously, Viserys brought a weapon into the Dothraki’s most sacred, weapon-free grounds.
At the time, Drogo was feasting with several Khals.
In front of countless people, Viserys pointed his sword at Dany’s swollen belly, threatening Drogo: *If you don’t help me reclaim my kingdom, I will gut your wife and son.* Unfortunately, while Viserys had the ruthlessness of a loan shark’s enforcer, he lacked the backing and gang muscle to support it.
Furthermore, Drogo was no meek, ordinary deadbeat.
In fact, Drogo never intended to renege on their deal; it was simply the Dothraki custom to roam the Dothraki Sea with the changing seasons, returning to Vaes Dothrak once a year at a set time to have the dosh khaleen (who acted as priestesses and wise women) divine their fortunes for the coming year.
Viserys met a tragic end.
Drogo took his own belt, strung with golden medallions, and tossed it straight into an iron pot to melt into molten gold.
You want a crown, do you?
He poured the molten gold directly over his head.
His skull was nearly melted through—a truly gruesome fate.
The Dothraki’s “gift trade” was just that messed up…
and brutal.
Therefore, faced with the Khaleesi’s silver medallion, Lilith had no way to refuse.
The large white goose belonged to Dany.
Before leaving Jhaqo’s camp, Dany halted her filly.
Resting her right hand on her waist, she looked back at the teeth-grinding Lilith and said, “You have been in Drogo’s khalasar for some time now, haven’t you?
Since we are speaking of traditions, you should know better than anyone that there has never been a Khaleesi in Dothraki history who could not ride a horse…
even when pregnant.” With that, she clicked her tongue and rode off on her silver filly, hooves clattering against the dirt.
Every Dothraki owned a horse and had to know how to ride.
When Daenerys became Drogo’s Khaleesi, her first task was not learning the Dothraki language, but getting used to life on horseback.
The massive khalasar naturally had carts, but they were not meant for able-bodied people, nor were they reserved for the ‘nobility.’ Among the Dothraki, only eunuchs, cripples, pregnant women, the elderly, and the very young rode in carts.
Daenerys was nearly ten months pregnant, yet she still rode.
Khal Drogo’s wounds were festering, and he had been struck by dark magic; his consciousness was fading, yet he still stayed in the saddle on pure instinct.
The higher one’s status, the less they could afford to leave horseback.
The first time she saw the Dothraki Sea, Dany was captivated by the ocean-like plains and ordered her khas to halt and rest.
As a result, Viserys—who could not stand ‘being given orders’—awakened the ‘waking the dragon’ rage.
As a deadweight tagging along with Dany, he was nominally registered under her khas.
He intended to whip his sister to vent his frustrations, just as he had done countless times over the past decade.
Although Dany had been sold to Drogo like a piece of cargo, she was granted her own khas immediately after the wedding.
How could Aggo and the others allow their Khaleesi to be beaten?
That time, Dany stripped Viserys of his right to ride.
When the Dothraki saw him walking back to the khalasar on foot, they mockingly gave him a nickname: *Khal Rhae Mhar*—the Sorefoot King.
The next day, Khal Drogo offered Viserys a place in a cart.
The fool happily accepted, thinking Drogo was apologizing for Dany’s ‘insolence.’ Then Viserys earned his second insulting nickname, *Khal Rhae Mhar*, meaning the Cart King.
This showed just how much discrimination one faced in the khalasar if they could not ride a horse.
Looking at the silver medallion lying in the dirt, and then at Dany riding away so ‘smugly,’ Lilith bit her thick lips so hard they nearly bled.
“Before the khalasar breaks camp tomorrow, prepare a horse for me!
A silver filly, just like that bitch’s!” she roared at the slave girls beside her.