Three years ago, Tyrion was sentenced to execution, and Tysha had been willing to die by his side. Viserys had used them both to test a mysterious magic, and it proved a great success. This was also why Aemon now felt at ease with death.
Seeing that Viserys seemed to have something to discuss privately with Aemon, Tyrion and Tysha hid.
"I heard you just got back—and now you're going out again?" Aemon asked.
Viserys sat down across from him. "We only have two years left, so I want to prepare as much as possible."
For the past five years, Viserys had been tirelessly training the army, crafting weapons, and stockpiling food nearly every day. He had recently completed production of explosive packs, a special edition with dragonglass shards designed specifically for combating White Walkers. They were now in storage, ready to be deployed.
"You've worked hard, and so has Daenerys."
"No hard feelings, just a hard life," Viserys quipped, laughing at his own joke. Aemon joined in with a hearty laugh.
...
To uncover why the Dragon Yuan currency couldn't be implemented in Braavos, Viserys and Monterys decided against a grand dragonborne arrival. Instead, they landed discreetly outside the city, disguised as ordinary travelers, and entered Braavos incognito. It was meant to be a sort of private visit—and a chance to unwind.
Falia had been absent for so many years that Viserys no longer expected her to be waiting for him. She would be in her late twenties or early thirties by now, while Catelyn was already pregnant with her fifth child. If he happened upon Falia, he thought, he'd give her some coin.
The two traveled by boat across the channel beneath the Titan of Braavos, arriving at Ragman's Harbor. It was here that Viserys had once captured Kyla and learned the art of warging.
"Braavos isn't as prosperous as it used to be," Viserys remarked casually.
Monterys, however, found it charming; everything felt fresh and exciting to him. He wondered how the city would look if he could soar above it on dragonback.
As they walked, they heard a familiar tune from the docks—a melody that evoked memories from King's Landing:
"When I was young, I was always alone on the beach...
...I will never forget...
This little pain in the rain and wind…"
"Your Grace, that's The Sailor!" Monterys exclaimed.
The citizens of King's Landing sang it in the common tongue, while here in Braavos, it was sung in Valyrian. Viserys smiled, saying nothing.
They hired a carriage and passed by the Inn of the Green Eel, where they overheard that House Fregar had been wiped out, apparently by ruthless tactics from Roth. The previous three-way rivalry had now dwindled into a two-way standoff between House Zalyne and House Antaryon.
They passed the Cattery brothel, where sultry sounds wafted through the night air, making Monterys shift awkwardly. He twisted uncomfortably until Viserys gave him a playful tap on the head, snapping him out of it with a blush.
Continuing on, they passed the Moon Pool Theater. There, a statue of Viserys had been erected, depicting him as the victor of a martial arts tournament. Intrigued, the two went inside to watch the current performance, which turned out to be an adventure play about Viserys's pirate-slaying exploits. For a moment, Viserys almost suspected someone knew of his visit—though he was certain it was mere coincidence, perhaps even flattery.
"Let's go to White Sails Town!" Viserys announced. This was where the House with the red door was located. As he spoke, he handed the carriage driver a ten-dragon coin paper bill.
"My lord, we don't accept paper money here," the driver replied hesitantly.
"Why?" Monterys interjected. "Your Grace Viserys clearly stated that it's illegal to refuse Dragon Yuan."
"Please, my lords, don't make things difficult for me. It's just our rule here," the driver explained apologetically.
'Rule?' Viserys thought, recognizing the Iron Bank's influence behind this resistance. Roth wouldn't challenge him on such matters—he'd profited immensely from overseeing the Dragonglass Weapons project.
But the Iron Bank, and perhaps even the Sealord himself, had the power to rival or even surpass Roth. Viserys resolved to probe deeper into this obstacle, masking his frustration as he handed over a silver stag.
The driver's annoyance vanished, replaced by a delighted smile. A silver stag was nearly a month's earnings for him. Soon they reached White Sails Town, which Viserys noticed was even busier than before, bustling as a district of new wealth. This influx of modestly affluent merchants and residents, however, signaled decline rather than growth; the wealthier families had moved away, leaving the middle tier to settle here.
While exploring, Viserys threw another silver coin to the rickshaw driver. "We'll be using this cart all day, so wait for us here."
"No problem, my lord! Just call if you need anything!" the driver said, clearly thrilled with his unexpected windfall.
Viserys and Monterys wandered through the town, observing that very few people used paper money here; most transactions were done in silver and bronze coins. Over the past two years, Viserys had insisted on maintaining a balance of power. Although the dragons were invaluable, he had resisted relying solely on them, striving to manage both Westeros and the Free Cities through various means. But seeing the widespread rejection of Dragon Yuan, he resolved to root out whoever was undermining his currency policy. Only by eliminating the instigators could he ensure Dragonstone's success.
As they strolled along, a commotion in the distance caught their attention. A crowd had gathered, watching some sort of dispute.
Just as Viserys and Monterys began to turn away, he heard his name called out, "Viserys! Viserys! Come save us—"
The voices sounded like two young girls, around ten years old. Startled, Viserys pushed his way through the crowd, curious to see who would call for him here. At the center of the circle, he saw a pair of identical twin girls holding a smaller child, staring defiantly at two menacing-looking ruffians.
The twins were striking, with silver-brown hair and clothes in rich shades of emerald green and reddish brown. Though their outfits weren't particularly fine, the girls' presence in this rough neighborhood was unusual enough to draw attention. The girl in the green dress even held a small dagger, brandishing it as a warning to the thugs creeping closer.
Despite Viserys standing directly in front of them, the girls didn't seem to see him at all. He realized with a start that somehow, he was invisible to them.
"Is there anyone else here called Viserys?" Viserys muttered, half amused. Before he could think further, one of the thugs, a rough-looking man missing a hand, sneered at the girls.
"Stop shouting, you little bitches. If you don't pay up today, I'll sell you off to the Cattery!"
The way he leered at the girls was filled with crude malice. The girl in the green shirt clutched her dagger and waved it defensively, but the thug's size and experience easily overpowered her; with a quick move, he wrenched the weapon from her grasp and moved to grab them.
Suddenly, a powerful force slammed into his waist. He felt as though he'd been hit by a runaway carriage, and his surroundings blurred before he crashed against the wall. He choked, his throat filling with a sickly taste, and darkness took him as he fell limp.
Viserys had struck him.
The thug's allies finally reacted, drawing short knives from their coats and lunging at him. Startled by the sudden clash, the onlookers scattered, some even rolling on the ground to escape the scuffle. But these thugs were severely outmatched, and Viserys dispatched them with an effortless grace, eliciting gasps from the crowd and wide-eyed admiration from the twin girls. Although he didn't kill the men, they'd be left with injuries that would haunt them.
Turning to the two girls, Viserys softened his gaze. "What happened here?"
It was then he noticed their unusual eyes—each girl had one purple eye and one green. The striking feature reminded him of Shiera.
"It's that pastry shop..." they said in unison, then paused, glancing at each other as if deciding who should explain. The girl closer to Viserys took the lead.
"It was that pastry shop," she said, pointing back. "They tried to charge us seven dragon coins for a pastry no bigger than my hand, and it barely had any sesame on it! We would have paid, but they wouldn't even accept banknotes. Bunch of greedy cheaters!"
As she ranted, she glared theatrically at the shop. Meanwhile, her quieter sister, dressed in apricot, studied Viserys shyly and looked away when he caught her gaze.
'Purple eyes and such a fierce spirit... could they have Valyrian blood?' Viserys mused, marveling at how quickly the girls had recovered from the terrifying ordeal.
"What are your names?" he asked.
"I'm Millie," said the girl in green.
'I'm Lily,' the girl in apricot followed, her voice soft.
Just then, a voice rang out in the crowd, "The Dragon's Claws are coming! Run!"
"Dragon's Claws?" Viserys muttered, glancing back to see a group of armed men with spears and short knives marching toward him. He'd expected the city guards, but it seemed these were reinforcements for the thugs he'd just taken down.
The leader of the approaching group looked strangely familiar, though Viserys couldn't place him right away. But when the man's gaze settled on Viserys and then fell to the defeated thugs on the ground, his expression darkened with malice.
"Oh gods, look at their weapons!" Lily whispered urgently, tugging at Viserys's sleeve. "Master, we should run!"
One of the men sneered, "Did you hurt our men?" He seemed emboldened by his followers' formation.
Viserys studied them, noticing the peculiar arrangement of their stance. Suddenly, he recognized the leader. "Helbo?"
Helbo was the same man who had once helped smashed his way through Viserys' door with Regis, years ago.
Regis had gone on to become a lord, but Helbo had stayed behind in Braavos, running shady operations. Now, seeing Viserys in person, he peered closer in disbelief. The recognition dawned, and he dropped to his knees, his face pale.
"Your Grace!"
Helbo hadn't seen Viserys in a decade, but he'd heard enough of his reputation to know better than to challenge him. Once, he'd considered deserting, but the news of Viserys's imperial title had ended that fantasy. He realized he'd just encountered someone far above his reach.