Chapter 54: Braavos

Viserys personally ended the life of this bastard.

Blood spilled onto the ground, filling the round hall with a pungent, metallic scent. A few guards averted their eyes, unable to bear the sight.

Then, at a silent signal from Ser Joffrey, two guards pinched their noses and stepped forward to drag the body away.

A long trail of blood followed the corpse, as servants approached with buckets of water to wash away the stains.

After avenging his mother by killing the man himself, Viserys took a deep breath. A shadowy mist was silently absorbed into his body, unnoticed by the others.

He then turned around.

An old maidservant stood by a stone pillar, watching the scene unfold. It was amusing how the soldiers were repelled by the sight, unwilling to look, while this woman witnessed it all.

It was because this man had killed Queen Rhaella, the once kind-hearted and lively girl.

Now, it was simply a matter of blood for blood.

The old woman in a gray robe and square kerchief spat fiercely. Seeing Viserys turn towards her, she quickly pulled out a clean handkerchief from her sleeve and approached.

"Your Grace."

Viserys tilted his head slightly, looking at the old maidservant who had followed them from the Red Keep. She had endured countless hardships.

"Thank you, Sofia."

Viserys nodded gently, then took the handkerchief from Sofia's sleeve to wipe the blood from his hands.

At that moment, a guard entered from outside and whispered something into Viserys's ear.

"What?"

Hearing the guard's words, Viserys's face clearly displayed astonishment.

He returned the bloodied handkerchief to the old maidservant and turned to the guard beside him, asking seriously once more.

"You mean... a merchant ship from Braavos has arrived, and there's a person claiming to be an envoy from Braavos seeking an audience?"

The guard heard Viserys repeat the question and hurriedly nodded.

"Yes."

"This..."

The young king's expression became slightly strange.

"Braavos..."

Of course, he knew where Braavos was - the most unique and powerful of the Free Cities across the Narrow Sea, often called the "Secret City" or "Valyria's Bastard Daughter." It was composed of a series of islands in the far northwest of Essos, right at the intersection of the Narrow Sea and the Shivering Sea.

He wasn't surprised that a Braavosi merchant ship was docked here. After all, Dragonstone Island blocked the entrance to Blackwater Bay, so Free City merchant ships wanting to trade with King's Landing had to pass through here.

In fact, the Targaryen fleet hadn't completely blockaded Blackwater Bay because doing so would have only caused insignificant damage to King's Landing while drawing numerous enemies to the Targaryens.

However...

He found it strange that Braavos would suddenly send an envoy for a visit. ...

Dragonstone Island and Braavos were separated by the Narrow Sea, a distance that could be described as vast and remote, and there had been no previous connection between the two. So why would they suddenly send an emissary?

Could it be a fraud...

This thought crossed Viserys's mind.

It wasn't that the boy was inherently suspicious, but recent events had left him somewhat paranoid, seeing everyone as a potential liar, traitor, or assassin.

"Why not let him in and hear what this emissary from Braavos has to say?" Viserys suggested.

"Your Grace."

Sir Joffrey, who was standing beside the main seat in the map room, suddenly spoke up.

He had just overheard Viserys's conversation with the guard and knew that an emissary from Braavos had arrived. He was also curious about the other party's purpose for coming.

After hesitating for a moment, Viserys eventually nodded.

"Very well, bring him in."

"Yes, Your Grace."

The guard agreed and left.

Viserys then led everyone down from the Stone Drum Tower to the great hall on the lowest floor.

This was the place where important guests were received. Viserys attached great importance to the emissary from Braavos. The silver-haired boy now sat on the cold stone throne, with sunlight streaming in from both sides, illuminating the dust.

The young king adjusted his clothes and put on the crown his mother, Queen Rhaella, had given him during his coronation.

The crown, made of pure gold and adorned with a huge red gemstone, reflected a burning glow in the sunlight, like a ball of fire burning above the boy's brow.

Commander of the Dragonstone fleet, Sir Joffrey, sat beside the throne, his hands resting on his knees, his white hair slightly disheveled, waiting quietly for the arrival of the Braavosi emissary.

It didn't take long.

Boom!

The doors to the Great Hall of Dragonstone were pushed open by the guards.

The young king's pale purple eyes looked towards the entrance as the guards stepped aside, revealing the person behind them.

A middle-aged man dressed in a gray-brown coat, wearing deer leather boots and holding a string of wooden beads, stood before them. He had a square face and dark hair.

Behind the man in the gray-brown robe was a young swordsman dressed in black, with a narrow and slender sword at his waist.

His hair was messy, giving him a somewhat unkempt appearance, but his eyes were incredibly sharp, as if they could penetrate one's heart.

"In Braavos, only assassins wear flashy clothes," the old knight sitting beside Viserys whispered into his ear as he looked at the two newcomers.

Sir Joffrey had once wandered the world, having left his family and homeland because of a murder. He had been to Essos, where he had been a mercenary, a sailor, and even a waiter at a tavern.

He had also wandered Braavos and was familiar with the customs there.

"The truly wealthy and powerful swordsmen, Faceless Men, usually wear black and dark clothes. Braavosi officials, key keepers, and judges often wear plain gray-brown coats."

Viserys listened to the old knight's whispered words and nodded silently, still looking at the two people standing at the bottom of the stairs.

The emissary from Braavos at the foot of the stairs also looked up at the young king seated on the throne.

He then bowed slightly and took the initiative to speak.

"Your Grace."