Game of Thrones: Second Son of House Targaryen

Chapter 305: Can’t I Enjoy Life After All These Years of War?

The outcome of the battle was exactly as expected.

Viserys defeated the five noble warriors and five elite slave fighters with ease, all at the same time. None of them had ever seen combat like this. Viserys’s movements were so fast, they seemed like lightning. Oznak, the first to charge, didn’t even glimpse Viserys’s face before he was knocked unconscious.

Hizdahr zo Loraq silently thanked the Green Grace for her counsel. His own calculations had led him to the same conclusion: the seven dragons were the equivalent of an army of 3,000 to 5,000 men, with the added advantage of flight, which made them an even greater threat. According to his subordinates, all of Viserys’s soldiers were elite troops—more than capable of holding their own against forces two or three times their size.

Given this overwhelming imbalance, provoking Viserys was clearly a path to ruin. If any assassination attempt failed and Viserys escaped, it would trigger a countdown to Meereen’s destruction. And not just Meereen—Slaver’s Bay as a whole would face certain doom.

Over the next several days, even more lavish gifts were sent to Viserys’s ship, and Meereen’s finest accommodations were offered to him.

"High Priestess Green Grace," Hizdahr asked one day in the Temple of the Graces, staring into her emerald eyes, desperate for guidance. "What should I do about this dragon’s envoy, who brings disaster to Meereen?"

The Green Grace’s voice was calm, but her words carried weight. "Lord Hizdahr, even the closest two people in the world are not truly one. You are not dealing with just Viserys. You face two Dragonlords."

Hizdahr’s heart sank. He had overlooked something critical. He had fallen into a dangerous misunderstanding. According to the Warlock Pyat Pree’s intelligence, only one person had emerged from the wildfire with a dragon: Daenerys. She had walked away unscathed, while Viserys had lost all his hair.

Both siblings had the power to control dragons. If he couldn’t contend with both Targaryens at once, perhaps he could align with one of them. Hizdahr realized there might be a way to start: by winning their favor.

With his mind enlightened, Hizdahr thanked the Green Grace and departed.

In the blink of an eye, Viserys had been in Meereen for more than half a month. Hizdahr’s spies had meticulously recorded Viserys’s movements and presented the report to him. Hizdahr read it carefully.

The report didn’t just track Viserys’s itinerary—it also documented nearly everything he had said. Over the past few weeks, Viserys had been singing almost daily. A few days ago, he had even spent time with the Seven Sisters, though his energy noticeably waned after that. Fortunately, Daenerys intervened and convinced him to rest and take better care of his health.

"By the way, my lord, take a look at this." The servant handed over a record of an incident from four days ago, detailing a heated argument between Viserys and Daenerys.

Daenerys had smashed a harp in frustration and cried, "Brother, you spend all day idling in luxury! Have you forgotten our vow to drive out the Usurper, avenge the deaths of Rhaegar and our father, and reclaim the Iron Throne?"

Viserys, clearly drunk and draped over his two bed slaves, responded, "I am your brother! How dare you speak to me like that?"

Furious, Daenerys shot back, "If you keep going like this, you will cease to be my brother!"

Viserys’s face twisted in rage. "How dare you! Do you forget who fed you when we had nothing in Braavos? Who kept us alive?"

With tears in her eyes, Daenerys pressed on, "Brother, Aemon would be ashamed of you. And Ser Willem, who saved us from Dragonstone, would laugh if he saw how far you’ve fallen—while Robert still sits on our throne."

Viserys, in a fit of anger, hurled his cup to the ground. "Enough! Are you lecturing me? I’ve fought battles my whole life, and I can’t enjoy myself for once? All you've had to do is play at being a Princess, while I’ve borne the weight of everything!"

Daenerys, her voice trembling, said, "Brother, I can't bear to watch you destroy yourself like this."

"Then leave!" Viserys shouted. "There are plenty of ships—go, if that’s what you want!"

As Daenerys fled the room in tears, Viserys waved at the musicians and dancers, dismissing the incident. "Keep playing."

A smile crept across Hizdahr zo Loraq’s face as he read the report. The Green Grace’s advice had clearly proven effective, but lingering doubts still gnawed at him.

"You say this Viserys left Braavos and rose to become the emperor of the Nine Free Cities in less than five years. How could such a man be blinded by indulgence?"

The servant responded carefully, "My lord, we’ve investigated his time in Braavos. When the Targaryens were overthrown during the Usurper's War, he was only six or seven years old. Willem Darry, one of their last loyalists, brought Viserys and Daenerys to Braavos. But after Willem Darry’s death five years later, they fell into hardship. Viserys spent years trying to gather allies for his cause, but no one would support him. The noble Prince and Princess often went hungry. This imbalance—the memory of his life at court versus his reality as an exile—earned him the nickname 'The Beggar King.'"

The servant paused, then added, "Viserys has always had a hedonistic streak, but it was only after facing significant hardships that he hardened and became the man who hatched dragons and seized power. Even now, as emperor, he’s still surrounded by threats and hasn’t truly returned to the life of luxury he craves."

He continued, "It seems that the more power and glory he attains, the more those old desires resurface. We’ve also noticed he likely has no heirs. And, my lord... Viserys is insatiable. In the past few weeks alone, he’s bedded over twenty women, all highborn and untouched. He’s even demanded to take them with him when he leaves."

Hizdahr's lips curled into a sneer. "Let him take them if he wishes. After he deflowers them, they’ll only become more valuable."

"Yes, my lord," the servant agreed.

Hizdahr’s eyes gleamed with cunning. "If he has such a weakness for women, let him go to Yunkai. Women can weaken even the strongest men. Mark my words—by the time he leaves Yunkai, he’ll no longer be the invincible warrior who can defeat ten men."

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