chapter 28 the beggar king

Viserys Targaryen's POV

I pace the echoing halls of the grand pyramid, the largest in Meereen, irritated that I've been kept waiting for over thirty minutes. My blood burns at the disrespect. I am a king—a Targaryen of pure Valyrian descent, heir to the Iron Throne—and yet, here I am, being made to stand idly like a common fool. But I need this barbarian,Drogo. Soon enough, he will wed my sister, and I'll have the army I need to take back what is rightfully mine.

I glance toward the looming double doors at the end of the hall where drogo well enter from, as i turn aroun i see a gaint chair with skulls and bones which the Dothraki warlord supposedly sits using it as his throne, drogo should have been here immediately. His gall infuriates me. He should be the one waiting for me. But no matter. Once this marriage is sealed, I'll use his army to reclaim Westeros, and I'll take Dany back. Once I have my throne, she will do what she was born to do—bear the next generation of Targaryens. She may be a pawn for now, but she is still of royal blood. She'll perform her duty to the realm and to me.

I cannot be too angry and upset. Today marks the first step toward taking back what is mine, what was stolen by the Usurper Robert Baratheon. He killed my father, my brother… even though Rhaegar was at fault, he was a Targaryen. If Rhaegar wanted Lyanna Stark, it was within his right to have her. No one can change that. But that bastard Baratheon, and that northern brute, went to war against their betters and dared to kill him. My brother, a prince, slaughtered over a woman. Then he took our kingdom, my kingdom, casting me into exile. Fifteen years of hiding, running from one place to the next, with no wealth, no home. All because of that fat usurper.

But that will soon change. With Dany married to this Drogo, I'll have control of the largest horde in the world. The rumors say Drogo commands not only 175,000 Dothraki riders but also an army of 30,000 Westerosi mercenaries—men who came to Essos and joined his khals cause. They say this company started with barely a thousand, but now, after years of gaining power, ships from Westeros bring more soldiers each day.

The Dothraki will follow me. Drogo will be bound to me through my sister and will be khal after killing his khal. And once these Westerosi soldiers learn who i am and that I am the true heir, they will kneel. They will rise in rebellion against Robert and place me, Viserys Targaryen, upon the Iron Throne. My army will be unstoppable.

All I have to do is sell my sister to this savage. A small price to pay. She will obey, or I will awaken the dragon.

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Daenerys Targaryen's POV

I keep my head bowed as we wait in the throne room, the massive doors of the pyramid looming before us. My heart feels like it's fluttering in a cage, every beat a painful reminder of what's to come. My brother, Viserys, told me not long ago that he'd found me a husband—a man with an army to help us reclaim our home. But I don't want to marry anyone. Not like this. I don't want to be sold.

I remember when we were young, before everything went wrong. There was a time, once, when Viserys was kind to me. We were both happy, or at least as happy as we could be after fleeing Westeros. But after we lost everything—after the servants stole our gold and we were left to fend for ourselves—he changed. He became cold, cruel. He started beating me whenever I displeased him, saying it was my fault for awakening the dragon." He scares me now, more than anyone. But I am powerless. What can I do but obey?

The air in the throne room feels heavy, stifling. The pyramid looms around me, vast and oppressive. This city was once built on the backs of slaves. Now, it's a place of trade, bustling with life, but it still feels like a prison.

I glance up at the dark wooden throne at the far end of the room. It's enormous, carved with intricate details, and adorned with bones. A monstrous throne, fit for a barbarian. They say the skull that crowns it belongs to the previous ruler of this pyramid, a relic of conquest and blood.

I wonder who I'm meant to marry. Viserys won't tell me anything, saying it's none of my concern. He says I only need to look pretty and please the khal. I feel a tear escape, but I wipe it away quickly. Viserys mustn't see it. If he does, he'll beat me again for showing weakness.

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Ceasar's POV

I step through the massive door of my throne room, the unsullied opening it with a sharp thud. The air is thick with tension, every eye in the room snapping to me as I stride inside. I'm enormous, a hulking figure—10 feet tall, 550 pounds of muscle, and every step I take resonates like a drumbeat in the hall.

Flanking me are Drogo, my only bood rider, and Sandor Clegane, the Hound. Both men are imposing in their own right, but here, beside me, they seem almost small. I walk toward the two Targaryens standing at the foot of my throne. Viserys is a frail thing, a pitiful man who clings to his delusions of grandeur. He stares at me with wide eyes not expecting to see me, his nervousness barely masked by his royal airs.

And then there's Daenerys. She's tiny, petite, her silver hair framing a delicate face. Her body is still that of a girl—too young for what I have planned. She'll need time to grow, to become the woman I need her to be. I've lived before, and I know when to wait for the right moment.

Viserys speaks, his voice thin. "I am Viserys Targaryen, rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, and this is my sister, Daenerys Targaryen."

He's trying to sound regal, but the fear is obvious. I grin, letting the tension settle between us like a blade hanging over his head. He shivers, taking a step back.

I look down at Daenerys and grab her chin. Her skin is soft, delicate. She startles but doesn't pull away. She's learned to fear men like her brother. But I am not Viserys.

"She'll do," I say coldly, my voice echoing in the vast chamber.

I turn to Drogo. "From now on, she's mine. No one is to touch her."

Drogo bows his head, his respect clear. "As you wish, my khal."

Viserys' confusion is almost comical. His face twists, a mix of fear and outrage. "My sister is supposed to marry Drogo, not you."

I smirk, amused by his delusions. "So Drogo can later kill me and take my men? No, boy. From now on, you are my prisoner, and your sister will be my woman."

He stammers, "I am the king of the Seven Kingdoms. You can't—"

Slap. The sound rings through the hall as my hand connects with his face. He stumbles back, holding his cheek, eyes wide with fear and anger as if he could do anything to change what ive done.

"Wrong," I growl. "I am the only king here. You're a man-child with a crown you didn't earn. The last fool who defied me lost all his teeth."

Viserys looks around wildly, seeing my warriors with their hands on their swords, ready to cut him down.

He tries to hold on to what little pride he has left, muttering, "You'll regret this."

I could kill him now, but that would make things more difficult with Daenerys. No, better to keep him alive. Let him hang himself with his own desperation. Soon enough, she'll wish him dead.

"Take him to his room," I order, not even bothering to glance at him. "And take her to mine."

Daenerys looks shocked but resigned. Her fate hasn't changed—whether it's Drogo or me, she has no choice. She's just a piece on the board.

As they are led away, the doors close behind them with a satisfying thud. I laugh.

The Hound speaks up. "You only want that girl for one reason. You plan on taking the Seven Bloody Kingdoms."

I grin. "Yes. Any objections?"

He smirks. "Can I be a lord?"

I chuckle. "Pick which one you want, and it's yours. You too, Drogo. Once Tom and David return, they can choose theirs as well. But remember, your heirs will have to marry mine."

Drogo bows his head. "It would be an honor, my khal."

"Good. Now go. Tighten security. No word of the Targaryens leaves this pyramid."

"As you wish," they both say, departing to carry out my orders.

I make my way to my chambers, anticipation building as I think of Daenerys. Soon enough, she will be mine. And with her all of westeros will rightfully be mine.

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