Chapter 771: Quarrel

Passion burned within the imperial bedchambers, while the corridors of the Maegor's Holdfast were deserted and silent.

Whenever Margaery Tyrell was secretly brought to the Red Keep through the tunnels below, the whisperers would clear everyone out of the Maegor's Holdfast beforehand, forbidding any servants or handmaidens from entering.

And so, news of the emperor keeping several lovers never leaked out.

Yet now, faint cries could be heard echoing through the empty corridors, seemingly a woman in the throes of pleasure.

Daenerys clenched her little fists, throat somewhat dry, heartbeat quickening.

She was no completely naive girl. Daenerys also knew what those sounds represented, but who could this woman be with both Arianne and Rhaenys at Highgarden?

Daenerys felt rather nervous inside, heartbeat accelerating further. Yet as she continued striding forth, the sounds from the silent corridors grew clearer and louder. At the same time, fury burned in her chest.

"You're the one who should be little Viserys' queen, Princess.

"Because you have the purest lineage, and you're also very beautiful. His Grace would definitely like you."

Old maid Sophie had served Viserys' mother before. At an age to be Viserys and Daenerys' grandmother, she had watched King Aerys and Queen Rhaella grow up, delivering both Viserys and Daenerys at birth too.

So the elderly maid was one of the scarce few left in this world who dared address Viserys so directly without fear of his temper.

The old woman plaited Daenerys' hair as she rambled on ceaselessly. At her age she had become somewhat long-winded, occasionally even blanking out briefly, forgetting what she was just doing.

But that voice seemed to still echo by Daenerys' ear. Back then, besides shy delight, Daenerys also harbored a small secret satisfaction in her heart that she did not voice to others.

"We're all waiting to celebrate your wedding, Princess."

Even the blacksmith back on her fief Dragonstone would say this to her, hammer in hand.

Everyone believed Daenerys would sooner or later marry Viserys. It was merely a matter of time.

After all, Daenerys still had yet to come of age presently.

And she thought so too. She had long seen herself as one of Viserys' wives, only awaiting the day he would take her in.

But Viserys alone had not indicated anything. Perhaps it truly was as Missandei's 'rabbit theory' put it. Or there were other reasons. Still, it did not quell the blazing fury in Daenerys' heart right now.

"I should be Viserys' empress!"

The silver-haired girl clenched her teeth slightly, fists balling.

"Arianne and Rhaenys, neither of them even have the qualification."

Then she strode with large steps toward the direction of the voices, toward the imperial bedchambers atop the Maegor's Holdfast.

Just then, a figure emerged from the shadows of the corridor.

"Your Highness."

Garbed in black robes and masked, the whisperer warned in a low raspy voice.

"Princess, you cannot continue forward."

"Get lost!"

"You dare obstruct me?"

But Daenerys was furious. She completely ignored him, striding right past the whisperer. His body shook slightly as he inhaled deeply, yet ultimately did not dare forcibly bar the princess' way.

"Oh no—"

Still, he sensed grave trouble, turning to watch Daenerys' retreating back.

"This is bad!"

"Go notify the superiors!"

Daenerys looked delicate externally but had a strong personality. Especially when dead set on something, even nine oxen could not pull her back.

The whisperer did not dare forcibly stop the advancing princess, or none would speak up for him even if she killed him. Daenerys marched straight for Viserys' chambers.

The Maegor's Holdfast was a square fortress. Within it was a garden that allowed seeing the balcony of the imperial bedchambers directly across the corridors. Though white gossamer curtains often hung there.

"Viserys..."

"Viserys..."

And now, those increasingly urgent cries were coming from that direction. The sea breeze above the Narrow Sea blew, gossamer curtains fluttering. Daenerys halted in the passageway, with a perfect view into Viserys' room.

She saw a girl around her age with beautiful features kneeling atop the soft feather bed.

Graceful curves exposed without reserve, brown curls spilling to precisely veil slim shoulders.

"It's her!"

"Margaery Tyrell!"

Daenerys recognized at a glance the girl currently in Viserys' room.

It was that Miss Tyrell who would frequently and seemingly coincidentally appear before Viserys.

A year Daenerys' senior, Margaery had been sent to King's Landing early in life. As little girls the two were once inseparable best friends.

Yet Daenerys was innocent while Margaery was not someone she could compare with. Daenerys always felt Margaery seemed to be using her somehow too.

This rose who had stunned all since budding would also often secretly probe Daenerys about her elder brother, further fostering Daenerys' dislike.

And so the once best friends eventually drifted apart.

But Daenerys never imagined that the girl who had climbed into her brother's bed would turn out to be her former friend, little Miss Tyrell.

She had agonized over this yet ultimately still failed to stop Margaery getting her way.

Princess Daenerys had caught His Imperial Majesty and Miss Margaery Tyrell red-handed in their affair.

Through the whisperers' workings, this news swiftly reached Master of Whisperers Ramos Bolton.

Hearing of it, Ramos' expression drastically shifted.

"You useless lot!"

"Why didn't you stop the princess?!"

According to the whisperer responsible for secretly bringing Margaery Tyrell into the Red Keep via the tunnels, Princess Daenerys had directly charged into the Maegor's Holdfast. His Grace and Miss Tyrell were still in the room then.

Though His Grace noticed something amiss early, he was still a step late and caught in the act by the princess.

Daenerys had raged and quarreled fiercely with Viserys before leaving in anger on dragonback, flying east seemingly toward her fief Dragonstone.

"Milord, His Grace summons urgently."

Just then, a whisperer came to report.

Smash—

Hearing that, Ramos directly shattered the cup in his hand. His palm stung as blood trickled from where ceramic shards had cut skin.

"Let's go!"

Ramos' face was overcast. With a fling of his sleeve he strode out with large steps.

The whisperers' base was underground at King's Landing. But upon emerging outside, Ramos discovered the formerly clear skies had rapidly darkened. The weather had undergone an abrupt change.

"What's going on?"

"Why did it suddenly turn dark?"

The King's Landing commoners and merchants were also baffled, raising their heads to gaze skyward one after another.

Then they saw that the blazing sun hanging high just earlier, radiating bright daylight, now seemed to be getting devoured bite by bite by something.