"It's a real art to pacify people."
Viserys declined Conwyra's offer to accompany him and wandered through the city alone. He soon discovered that faith in R'hllor seemed to dominate Myr. Every now and then, he spotted a red priest walking along the streets.
The city had two ring-shaped commercial streets lined with vibrant shops. Carpets, screens, mirrors, lace, glass—an array of colorful handicrafts adorned both sides. From above, the streets would resemble a necklace inlaid with colorful gems. The Unsullied patrolled diligently, their presence unmistakable.
At one stall, Viserys noticed a vendor displaying what appeared to be picture frames. Upon closer inspection, he realized they were Myr's renowned "miniatures." He picked up one, no larger than his palm, and marveled at the detail. It depicted a battlefield: one side bore a blue banner, the other a red flag. Soldiers clashed, knights charged, and the soldiers' armor and weapons were intricately painted. The craftsmanship was extraordinary, down to the smallest detail.
There were many themes among the miniatures. Two larger ones featured dragons. One portrayed the end of Valyria, its base colors a haunting gray and red. Countless peaks erupted simultaneously, spewing scarlet magma and hurling massive rocks through the sky. Dragons struggled to take flight, some seemingly held back by unseen forces, while others were struck by falling debris. Viserys could even discern the Valyrian dragonlords weeping in the corners, identifiable by the exquisite crowns on their heads.
The artistry was nothing short of breathtaking.
The merchant, a woman in her thirties, stood nearby. Time had left few marks on her. Her olive-toned arms were bare, and her chest was exposed in a way that seemed calculated to attract customers.
The shopkeeper glanced at Viserys and, noticing his handsome features, decided to offer a small discount. "Feel free to look around, dear customer. If something catches your eye, I can give you a discount."
Viserys nodded, his gaze settling on the miniature of Valyria's Doom. "This one will do," he said, pointing to it. Since Euron had already reached the Smoking Sea, Valyria couldn't be far off. Through this miniature, he imagined he could catch a glimpse of the ancient ruins.
After wandering through the shop a bit more, he noticed a surprising item for sale: high heels. He passed on those but chose a few ornate mirrors to give as gifts.
Navigating the bustling streets, Viserys led a few Unsullied into a lace specialty store. To his surprise, the lace here wasn't just the simple cotton and linen he had imagined. Much of it was made from precious metals like gold and silver. The cotton and linen lace was in short supply, with only a few small samples on display. Realizing he lacked the knowledge to produce lace, Viserys concluded that any "underwear revolution" would be limited in scope.
As he was about to leave the shop, a woman wearing a veil caught his attention. Despite the special gauze hat she wore, her silver hair was unmistakable. Silver hair was rare in Myr. Her attire was particularly exquisite, with intricate lace trim at the cuffs and hem, woven with gold and silver thread. Though she wore little jewelry, she exuded an air of mystery and luxury.
Viserys, however, didn't dwell on her presence and left the store. But as soon as he stepped out, the woman followed him. Her behavior did not escape the Golden Eagle's keen observation. Despite his attempts to evade her by quickening his pace and changing directions, she kept up effortlessly.
He realized that if she could keep pace with him, she was no ordinary person. 'Could she be one of the Faceless Men?' he thought, a chill running down his spine as his pulse quickened. But after a moment's reflection, he dismissed the idea. 'How could the Faceless Men know I'm in Myr?'
Faceless Man or not, the fact that she dared to follow him meant he had to uncover her identity.
Through the eyes of the Golden Eagle, Viserys spotted a dim, empty alley nearby and quickly turned into it. As he anticipated, the woman followed. He stopped and turned around when he heard her footsteps approaching from behind.
Before Viserys could speak, the woman spoke his name. "Prince Viserys, is this the place you chose for our date?"
Her voice was seductive, a sound that seemed to pierce directly into his heart. The way her red lips moved beneath the veil exuded an irresistible allure. 'Who is this?' Viserys thought, but asking outright felt beneath him, as though it would diminish his authority. Whoever she was, she had chased him here for a reason, and it likely wasn't a good one.
Instead, he retorted, "Where did you come from, old woman? Are you so desperate for a man that you're chasing after me?"
The woman paused, then laughed—a laugh so enticing it felt like a cat scratching at his heart, leaving him itching for more. "Prince Viserys, your tongue is as sharp as a sword. Don't you want to know who I am?"
Her voice, dripping with temptation, almost compelled him to ask, but he resisted, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to defend himself.
The woman slowly lifted her veil, revealing silver-blonde hair and a stunning face.
'Liv Tyler?' Viserys thought.
Seeing the amazement in Viserys's eyes, the corners of the woman's mouth curved into a slightly proud smile.
"I'm surprised you don't recognize me!" she teased, a smug smile playing on her lips as she observed the shock in Viserys' eyes. "In terms of lineage, I'm your great-grandmother."
"Great-grandmother?!" Viserys echoed, his fantasies shattering as he stared into her mismatched eyes—one blue, one green. Around her neck, a necklace of blue and green gems confirmed his suspicions. Two words thundered in his mind: Shiera Seastar. She was from the same era as Bittersteel Aegor and one of the noble bastards of "King Aegon the Unworthy." A character from over a century ago! How could she still be alive—and so youthful?
As the realization hit him, a chill ran down his spine, an unease he hadn't felt since arriving in this world.
"It seems you've figured it out," Shiera Seastar said, her voice like a song, every word she spoke laced with enchantment. Though Viserys didn't want to believe it, her heterochromia and her evident love of lace made it all too likely—this was indeed Shiera Seastar.