In the wake of this great victory, the wounds of war seemed insignificant. The dark clouds that had long shrouded the Disputed Lands had finally dispersed. Whether farmers tilling the fields or priests in their churches, nobles and commoners alike were swept up in a wave of joy. The destruction of the Dothraki promised smoother trade routes, reduced risks, and more abundant goods. Soon, countless sheep and cattle would flood into the Free Cities, allowing even ordinary people, who had not seen meat all year, to taste the rich flavors of life.
Yet, while many rejoiced, others mourned. Kambron's youngest daughter had perished in the chaos of war, her body never found. The news drove him to the brink of madness. 'Why? Drogo clearly said there was no need for hostages. Why did I leave her there? Jess, my pure one!' His intense grief turned into burning hatred toward Viserys. 'It's all Viserys's fault! That was my Tyrosh, my port, my palace!'
His self-blame festered, and he sought vengeance. "We still have one last chance! Wildfire! Wildfire has reached the port!" Tregar announced to the group. "What the Faceless Men couldn't accomplish, we will!" Even Cassius had to accept the reality that the Faceless Men had failed.
Their confidence stemmed from Viserys's decision to entrust the celebration arrangements to Kambron, a move that seemed like a gift from the gods. As they listened to the sounds of celebration outside the window, the three of them understood this was their last-ditch effort.
Unbeknownst to them, Viserys was not only aware of Kambron's plot but was secretly aiding it, putting everything to the final test. A green flame flickered in the brazier as Dany slowly placed her slender, bare feet and calves into it.
"Is it hot?" Viserys asked, his voice tense with concern.
"No, it's not," Dany replied, her voice trembling with nervousness and shyness. Viserys held her feet carefully, ensuring the wildfire posed no harm to her, before finally letting go of his worries. For some reason, Dany felt a deep shyness as Viserys cradled her feet.
"Prince," Dany's handmaiden entered at that moment, slightly surprised by the sight before her, but she said nothing. "Prince, Princess, it is time to change into your formal attire."
At the victory celebration, everyone was abuzz with talk of the earth-shattering triumph. Before Viserys made his entrance, the generals who had fought alongside him against Drogo became the center of attention. Among them, Regis stood proudly, knowing his place was well-earned. Of course, he would not mention the Dragon's Horn.
"Those sellswords were worthless! His Grace and I defeated 50,000 Dothraki with only 3,000 or 4,000 men!" Regis boasted, his voice swelling with pride. He sighed dramatically. "From night until dawn, our clothes were drenched in blood!"
His usual flair for exaggeration caused some of the noble ladies to gasp and cover their mouths in shock, filling Regis with an unprecedented sense of satisfaction.
Shinelli stood in the crowd, struggling to imagine the dangers Viserys must have faced to achieve such a victory.
"As soon as I made my move, Drogo's head flew off!" Regis continued, reveling in his tale.
"So, Lord Regis killed Drogo?" someone asked, intrigued.
"Well… not exactly," Regis admitted, knowing the line between bragging and outright lying.
"Lord Regis, I heard that Prince Viserys acquired several suits of Valyrian steel armor in Chroyane. Is that true?" Nyessos inquired, his eyes gleaming with desire. He coveted a suit of Valyrian steel armor for himself.
Alios, standing nearby, listened intently. If Nyessos hoped the news was true, Alios secretly hoped it wasn't. After all, scarcity breeds value—if everyone had Valyrian steel armor, how could he flaunt his own?
"I don't think Viserys should be holding a victory celebration so soon," Roth interjected, his tone critical. "It's not too late to completely eliminate the remaining Dothraki forces."
In Roth's opinion, Viserys needed only a limited number of troops to crush the last of their strength. Only by doing so could the threat be fully eradicated.
You must remember, that aside from the Khals, the Dothraki have what can be called a 'reserve force'—the Dosh khaleen of Vaes Dothrak. Though they are merely a group of widows, they hold great influence among the Dothraki. Without a doubt, they will step in to replace the fallen Khals and rally the remnants of their people. Given time, they might even assemble an army. By then, Viserys will face an even greater challenge and pay a much higher price.
"Could it be that he's thinking about the Iron Throne?" Meris speculated, attempting to defend Viserys. It was clear she was reluctant to acknowledge that such a 'flaw'—an eagerness for success—could exist in someone she saw as a flawless young man.
Roth couldn't quite understand Viserys's intentions, but he found himself believing that Viserys must have a backup plan. However, the specifics of that plan remained a mystery to him.
Mellario, on the other hand, felt reassured in her decision to offer the 'crown' as a gift. In her mind, it was only a matter of time before Viserys reclaimed the Iron Throne. The thought of her daughter becoming queen filled Mellario with a sense of pride. Reflecting on her past choice to leave Sunspear, she recalled how Doran had wanted to give their child up for adoption, a decision that had brought her great sorrow. Now, with the Targaryen family so diminished, she expected her daughter would have to endure many childbirths to secure the line.
As the group continued their conversation, the sound of a guard's announcement echoed outside:
"Prince Regent Viserys Targaryen, King's Hand Griff, and King's Second Hand Daenerys Targaryen are here!"
Upon seeing Viserys and his entourage enter, the nobles in the Throne Hall stepped aside, clearing the red carpet to allow them passage. Behind Viserys's left shoulder was Connington, and behind his right was Dany. Flanked by them and surrounded by guards, Viserys made his way toward the towering throne.
Once seated, he exuded an aura of authority, becoming the most commanding presence in the Throne Hall. Strickland, one of the generals of the Golden Company, watched Viserys closely. Who would dare call him a beggar king now? Strickland was just relieved he hadn't made any drastic moves—at least, not yet. He knew that if Kambron and the others exposed their plot, Viserys would discover that Strickland had incited them to 'consort with the Horselord,' and the consequences would be severe.
As for Kambron and his co-conspirators, they positioned themselves strategically throughout the hall, their actions perfectly coordinated. Silently, they awaited the moment to ignite the wildfire. The plan was simple: a candle would be used to light the wildfire. Once the candle burned out, the explosive force would send everyone flying. They just needed to make their escape before that happened.