Game of Thrones: Rise of the Supreme Dragon Queen

When Daenerys saw Euron again, she was shocked to find that the burns on his face had already scabbed over.

Being someone with medical knowledge, she understood how difficult it was for severe burns to heal. Pus, infection, fever, and inflammation were all common complications. If she had seen a frail patient with their head wrapped in white bandages, soaked with reddish-brown fluid and blood, she would have found that perfectly normal.

But Euron strolled casually, dragging heavy chains behind him as if unbothered.

"How did you recover so quickly?" she asked, puzzled.

Euron's bright blue right eye scanned Daenerys's smooth, pale face as he grinned. "Aren't you healing faster than me? Enough about that. The ship has docked. When are you letting me go?"

"I planned to release you as soon as your injuries healed." Signaling to the Dothraki guards escorting Euron, Daenerys ordered, "Unshackle Ser Euron. He's no longer a prisoner."

The guards glanced at Jorah, Barristan, Davos, and Ago standing behind her. Deciding the Khaleesi's safety was not at risk, they stepped forward silently and deftly removed the chains from Euron's wrists and ankles.

"Jhiki, bring the new clothes we bought today for Ser Euron," Daenerys instructed her Dothraki handmaiden.

Euron stretched his neck and flexed his joints before sitting down with a skeptical look. "What do you want from me?"

She touched her nose awkwardly, motioning for Doreah to bring over a stool. Once Euron hesitantly sat, she said, "Nothing major. I plan to purchase Unsullied in Astapor, but I'm short on funds—"

"What?" Euron erupted, furious. "You sold me? Slave trading is forbidden in the Seven Kingdoms!"

If you were worth as much as a dragon egg, I might have considered it, she thought.

"Calm down," Daenerys said soothingly, pressing her right hand down to indicate restraint. "Relax. You're not worth much—"

The words seemed to wound Euron's fragile pride. He interrupted her again, fuming. "Not worth much? There's a massive bounty on my head across a dozen Jade Sea nations!"

Daenerys shrugged. "At most, you're worth a few thousand gold dragons. Pocket change. Or is that a fortune to you?"

"Ha, pocket change to you, perhaps! Considering you looted a whole ship's worth of treasure from me!"

"To be honest, that treasure was only worth around fifty thousand gold dragons. Not much. Robert Baratheon's debts exceeded six hundred thousand gold dragons. As the rightful queen, shouldn't I carry myself with more grandeur than he did?" she replied coolly.

"A king without a kingdom has no grandeur. I've heard the Free Cities' common folk call your brother the 'Beggar King.'" Euron clicked his tongue, though he didn't finish the thought.

"Barefoot Princess" was Daenerys's own street nickname.

Due to their poverty—and the hot climate of Tyrosh and Myr—her brother hadn't been able to afford shoes for her. Little Daenerys often wandered the bustling streets of the Free Cities barefoot.

"Your Grace, as a Kingsguard, I am obligated to uphold your honor. Even if you pardon Crow's Eye for regicide, allow me to challenge him to a duel!" Jorah said, hand on his sword hilt, glaring at Euron with icy eyes.

"Give me my armor, and I'll fight you with one hand," Euron mocked, rolling his eyes.

"This was supposed to be a simple conversation!" Daenerys rubbed her temples in frustration. "You've turned it into a pointless argument. Let me be clear: I sold the dragon egg you found in Valyria and the map to the Smoking Sea."

"Tomorrow morning, you'll accompany me to the slaver's council and recount your exploration of Valyria. After the deal is finalized, you and your pirate crew will be released. Any objections?"

"Yes," Euron replied, nodding. "The dragon egg wasn't found in Valyria. I stole it during a raid on the Jade Sea."

"So, you lied to me?" Daenerys said, her tone growing colder as she took a bite of a ripe persimmon. Speaking with her mouth full, she added, "Dragon eggs from the Jade Sea aren't unique. But those of the Valyrian dragonlords are one of a kind and far more valuable."

She narrowed her eyes. "You told me you found the egg and armor together in the governor's castle in Telyria. Are you changing your story now? If you lied before, our deal is off. Don't blame me for breaking my word when you betrayed me first."

"I misspoke," Euron conceded quickly, his tone ingratiating. "The dragon egg was indeed found in Telyria—maybe there were more. I was in a hurry and lacked manpower to fully excavate the castle. If the masters bring sufficient resources, they might uncover dragon lairs and Valyrian steel weaponry!"

"Well, I seem to have been shortchanged!" Daenerys said, wiping the juice from her lips with a sigh.

"Exactly, the masters are making a fortune!" Euron lamented, as though genuinely sympathetic.

"Here," she handed him a persimmon, "it's sweet."

As Euron began eating, Barristan and Jorah exchanged exasperated glances.

The third meeting with the masters took place in the Punishment Square. Unlike the Pride Square, which was for inspecting merchandise, the Punishment Square was a slave training ground.

Located behind Astapor's main gates, it functioned like the "Execution Ground" of the Forbidden City, where rebellious or disobedient slaves were punished or executed.

The docks where their fleet was anchored lay in the northwest corner of Astapor, requiring them to traverse a quarter of the city to reach the Punishment Square. Along the way, Daenerys saw the grim reality of this slave city.

A dozen towering pyramids occupied half the city's space, while the rest of the buildings were low, dilapidated, and cramped. The narrow alleys were filled with stagnant water, buzzing green flies rising in swarms as their convoy passed.

As the procession moved forward, a young girl with sunburned, peeling skin squatted by an overflowing red-brick drainage ditch, stark naked, defecating. The sound of horses' hooves and cart wheels clattering over the uneven road startled her. She blinked her large brown eyes at Daenerys and her party, then lowered her head and continued her business.

They passed through narrow alleys with low eaves and walked along a red-brick street that ran near the ancient walls encircling the city.

When they passed by the old city walls, Daenerys noticed a cracked and unstable section that looked ready to collapse. She instinctively worried it might fall toward them.

The Punishment Square lacked the bronze harpy statues seen in other parts of the city. At its center stood a massive wooden platform.

Like gallows in the West or guillotines in the East, this platform was where rebellious slaves were tortured, flayed, hanged, and displayed.

The first thing new slaves saw upon entering the city was this ominous stage—a grim warning to all.

Clearly, the Masters were well-versed in the art of breaking slaves' spirits.

The ox-cart stopped at the edge of the square. As Daenerys stepped down, she noticed a young girl in a gray linen dress waiting nearby.

The girl had a flat, round face and dark skin. She hurried over, kneeling and pressing her forehead to the ground in a gesture of complete submission.

"Greetings, Your Grace," the girl said reverently. "The Masters have instructed me to serve you during your stay. If the transaction is completed, I will be presented to you as a gift, to help the Unsullied learn the Westerosi tongue."

"Rise, little one," Daenerys said, walking over to help her up. She smiled and asked, "What's your name? How old are you?"

"My name is Missandei, Your Grace. I am ten years old," the girl replied softly.

Daenerys paused, stunned. Missandei was a vital and remarkable character in Game of Thrones, almost like her own "Shangguan Wan'er." But in her memory, Missandei was a mature young woman, not a child.

At first, Daenerys felt disappointed, thinking she must have arrived at the wrong time and missed the grown-up Missandei. Yet, it seemed the story had deviated from what she remembered—Missandei was indeed just a child.

Daenerys patted Missandei's head, which was styled in a close-cropped, watermelon-shaped haircut. "I'm Daenerys Targaryen. Do you know who I am?"

"Yes, Your Grace," Missandei replied with a nod.

As they approached the wooden platform, Daenerys noticed something peculiar. At first glance, she thought the slave tied to the platform was of a strange, striped race, with skin patterned like a zebra. But upon closer inspection, she realized it wasn't skin at all.

The slave had no skin.

Like peeling an apple, the rebellious slave's skin had been stripped off in curled layers, leaving behind uneven, raw flesh resembling "zebra stripes."

The slave was still alive.

"What did he do?" Daenerys asked, her face pale as she pointed to the flayed man.

"He resisted," Missandei replied quietly. "The Masters whipped him and asked if he acknowledged his lowly status. In response, he spat a mouthful of bloody phlegm at them while bound to the cross."

Daenerys then pointed to another corpse, this one intact except for an arm crawling with black flies from the fingertips to the elbow. The man had clearly died, though the rest of his body was untouched.

"And what about him?"

"He was a new slave," Missandei explained, her voice faltering. "When the Master whipped him, he raised that arm to shield himself. So, they smeared it with thick honey and released a box of longhorn ants onto him."

Missandei's dark face turned slightly pale as she added, "The slave screamed for three days and nights before he died. None of the other newcomers dared resist after that."

"Monsters!" Ser Barristan growled, his eyes blazing with fury. His cane struck the stone pavement with a furious thud-thud-thud.

"Enough," Daenerys said, turning away from the grotesque sight. "Take me to see the Masters."

The grand pyramid behind the Punishment Square towered over 100 meters high, the largest and tallest structure in Astapor.

As they climbed the steep steps, Missandei explained, "This pyramid belongs to Grazdan mo Ullhor. It has 33 floors. The lower levels house dungeons, slave quarters, storage rooms, and servants' living spaces, while the upper levels contain the Masters' treasury, study, reception halls, and more."

She continued, "Today, eight Masters are meeting with you. They are the most powerful figures in Astapor, and Grazdan is their leader. The one you negotiated with before, Kraznys, is far less significant."

Missandei also warned her, "Among the eight Masters, five are named Grazdan, and two are named Kraznys. It's best to address them by their full names to avoid confusion."

Daenerys felt overwhelmed. To her, the dark-haired, amber-skinned Ghiscari all looked alike, much like how people from her homeland often viewed the dark-skinned Summer Islanders as indistinguishable.

Now, with their names so similar, how would she manage to tell them apart?

(P.S.: In the original A Song of Ice and Fire, Missandei is indeed a 10-year-old girl, making her too young for any romantic subplot with Grey Worm.)

(End of Chapter)

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