Viserys had Illyrio bring Feles with him, a move that secured their entry into Kurland's house. The following day, at noon, Viserys and Feles arrived at Kurland's tea room. Outside, a garden bordered the tea room, patrolled by Unsullied. Although the treaty between Pentos and Braavos forbade the use of slaves in Pentos, it was evident that some powerful individuals still employed them in secret. Even Illyrio's bodyguard, a slave gladiator purchased from Yunkai, was proof of this covert practice.
After crossing the garden, they reached a teahouse adorned with blue tiles and yellow walls. Upon entering, a maid served them bread and salt, which they ate while waiting. The room was empty, save for a few servants—no important figures had arrived yet. The most striking feature in the tea room was the main seat, which resembled a small bed. Its backrest, nearly two meters high, was intricately carved with patterns of the sea and land, motifs traditionally associated with the Prince of Pentos but now appropriated for Lord Kurland's use. The main seat appeared to have been sculpted from a single massive rock, with a base that elevated it significantly, allowing its occupant to gaze down upon the entire room. A chandelier hung slightly behind the seat, casting shadows that added to the sense of oppression. The design was exquisite, clearly crafted with 'hospitality' in mind.
"Please sit down, Lord Kurland will be here soon," a servant instructed.
"Yes," Viserys replied with a nod, remaining silent. Although such a waiting area was designed to instill a sense of inferiority, Viserys was unfazed. What mattered was forging the alliance, regardless of the surroundings.
Kurland did not keep them waiting long. After about a quarter of an hour, he entered from a door on the right side of the main seat, supported by two maids. Before sitting, one of the maids prostrated herself on the ground, forming a "human footstool" for him. Kurland casually placed his foot on her back.
Viserys couldn't help but think, 'Humans are truly the only species in the world that can derive pleasure from the suffering of their own kind.'
'It's disgusting to see them treat people as if they aren't even human,' Viserys thought, his stomach churning with revulsion. Kurland, oblivious to Viserys's thoughts, looked down at the two younger men with a slight narrowing of his eyes. Their youth and handsomeness stirred a pang of envy in the older man.
"Lord Kurland," Viserys said, rising from his seat and bowing respectfully. Kurland responded with a dismissive nod.
Just as Viserys was about to launch into an explanation of the strategic benefits of controlling Tyrosh and the details of their potential alliance, Kurland interrupted with a blunt question.
"What is your relationship with their leader?"
Viserys hesitated for a moment, ready to mention his role as a sergeant in the Windblown, but quickly realized that wasn't what Kurland was really asking. 'What a cautious old fox,' Viserys mused. He recalled the old captain's barely concealed hatred and murderous intent toward Kurland when they had left Tyrosh. Though the captain hadn't detailed the grudge between them, it wasn't hard to guess.
The old captain had fled Pentos to avoid becoming the 'Prince of Sacrifice,' and just two days ago, Viserys had learned that House Stewart no longer existed in Pentos. Coupled with the analogy the captain had shared, it seemed likely the feud involved the grave crime of kinslaying.
Kurland, calculating as ever, saw no benefit in an alliance if Viserys had ties to Hoyt. If they managed to take Tyrosh, it would be meaningless if Viserys was allied with someone who harbored a deep-seated vendetta against him. Knowing the wrong answer could unravel the entire negotiation, Viserys replied carefully.
"It's like borrowing a chicken to lay eggs," he said.
"Borrowing a chicken to lay eggs?" Kurland echoed, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk, clearly intrigued by the phrase.
"You see," Viserys continued, "I once brought a group of mercenaries to Pentos to help me reclaim the Iron Throne, but that so-called feast of the crown became a stain on my life, a laughingstock that taught me you can't gain an army by begging." Viserys gestured passionately as he spoke, drawing a curious glance from Feles. "So, I led my men to raid a pirate stronghold, securing hundreds of suits of armor and earning a certain standing within the Windblown. Once the time is right, I'll leave the Windblown with my men."
Kurland listened intently, his posture relaxing as he leaned back further into the soft cushions of the main seat. To him, it was clear that Hoyt would never relinquish control of the Windblown to Viserys. If Viserys left as he claimed, it would only weaken Hoyt's position, making him less of a threat.
"So, you mean House Martell is already in the alliance?" Kurland inquired.
"Yes, Prince Oberyn is currently in Pentos," Viserys confirmed.
At this news, Kurland sat up straighter, his interest piqued. Viserys had proven himself over the past two years, and his newfound connection with House Martell only increased his value. Realizing this could be a valuable opportunity, Kurland decided it was worth considering.
"If that's the case, I can consider your terms," Kurland agreed, nodding as he removed his foot from the maid and sat up properly.
Seeing Kurland's apparent agreement, Feles couldn't contain his excitement. If they could secure a letter confirming Pentos's involvement in the alliance, they would likely bring Myr into the fold as well. This would lay a solid foundation for the revival of his family and mark his full return to the ranks of the nobility in Lys.
However, Kurland proposed another condition that Viserys rejected immediately.
"In that case, you will marry your sister to one of my descendants, and I will agree to the alliance," Kurland suggested. In his mind, with his family controlling Pentos and House Martell ruling Dorne, their statuses should be equal, and the "Dragonlord's bloodline" should naturally be shared. Kurland assumed that Viserys must have already married into House Martell, just as Rhaegar had married Elia years before. Therefore, asking Viserys to wed Daenerys to a member of House Berent seemed reasonable to him.
As soon as Kurland finished speaking, an oppressive silence fell over the tea room, broken only by the sound of their breathing. Viserys's polite expression quickly twisted into a sneer. Without warning, he flipped the tea table in front of him, sending teacups clattering to the floor, their shards mingling with spilled tea. The sudden commotion drew the attention of the Unsullied outside, who rushed into the room.
Viserys glared at Kurland, his voice seething with fury. "Who do you think you are? Lys isn't mine to save or abandon. If this alliance fails, I can find another opportunity later." His anger surged as he continued, "It seems you have no intention of cooperating. Let me be clear: you know about Moonshadow soap, don't you? That was a collaboration between me and House Zalyne. I know all the recipes—and even better ones. I can use those to bring Myr into the fold! And if not Myr, I can secure the Golden Company. I have plenty of gold. Do you really think you're irreplaceable?"
Viserys's voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "When I take Tyrosh, and every Pentoshi merchant ship passes through the Stepstones, I will not be a Targaryen in name alone."
With that, he signaled to Feles and stormed out, leaving Kurland reeling from the sudden turn of events. As the door closed behind them, Kurland's confidence faltered. He remembered his own younger days and knew how easily a young man like Viserys could be driven to rash decisions in the heat of anger. Had he misjudged the situation so severely? Had his proposal truly offended Viserys that deeply?
The realization struck him: Viserys wasn't just offering a carrot; he held a big stick as well. If these negotiations ended in discord, the consequences could be dire and unpredictable. Kurland couldn't afford to kill Viserys—doing so might alienate House Martell and disrupt trade. Moreover, he belatedly recognized that Viserys had little personal stake in Lys's survival; his demands had indeed been unreasonable.
Feles, equally stunned, struggled to make sense of the scene. 'How had things escalated so quickly? How could they argue so openly and unceremoniously?' Yet, putting himself in Viserys's shoes, Feles understood that such an insulting demand was intolerable. Viserys held the upper hand, whether it was supporting Tyrosh or fighting against it. For him, the stakes were simply a matter of a "big win" or a "small win."
But for Feles, the future looked bleak. His hopes of revitalizing his family now seemed distant. Would he have to follow Viserys into mercenary work after all?
At that moment, Kurland called out, "My lord, wait!"
But Viserys, unfazed, continued walking as if he hadn't heard a thing. He couldn't help but agree with the old captain's assessment of this man—Kurland's pretense of reasonableness only masked a deep arrogance. Meanwhile, the Horselords came nearly every year, and he was always paying his respects to them without fail.
"Prince!" Feles began, his voice uncertain. "My lord, shouldn't we—"
Viserys shot him a withering glare, and Feles fell silent immediately. "This lord, Lord Kurland, hopes you'll stay," Feles added hastily.
"Get the hell out of here!" Viserys roared, his voice so powerful that the eunuch attendant in front of him nearly collapsed in fear. Even Feles, standing beside him, felt a shiver run down his spine. Viserys's strength lent his voice a booming resonance, like the roar of a dragon, reverberating through the garden and startling birds from the trees.
Just then, a group of Unsullied armed with short swords arrived, blocking Viserys's path. He turned to face the approaching Kurland and coldly remarked, "What, my lord, do you intend to murder your guests?"