Chapter 182: Deception
***
Celia rolled her eyes, but Daenerys smiled.
Ian was right. Daenerys was drawn to handsome, confident, and talkative men—like Daario Naharis, the Stormcrow captain from the stories. That man had charmed his way into her heart and onto the throne of Meereen, largely through the power of his bold words.
Two of his boasts, in particular, had always stuck with Ian:
*"I have not lived a day without loving a woman, killing a man, or eating a fine meal. The days of my life are as numberless as the stars in the sky."*
*"I could recite the names of all those who have fallen to my blade, but by the time I finished, your dragons would be as large as castles, the walls of Yunkai would have crumbled to yellow dust, and winter would have come and gone and come again."*
Ian had to admit it: talking such magnificent nonsense was an art form. His own attempts were those of a schoolboy compared to Daario's mastery.
Still, Ian wasn't merely boasting.
For someone like him, who was intimately familiar with the *Seven Military Classics*, who could recite *The Art of War* and the *Wuzi* from memory, and who had pored over the *Jixiao Xinshu*—a veritable step-by-step guide to waging war—coming to a world like this one was a profound, almost unfair advantage.
Even among other players, Ian dared say that his understanding of classical military strategy was second to none. It was the entire basis for his confidence in this contest, despite his own lack of martial skill. It was a pity the damn game designers had structured things to focus on the long game, preventing players from quickly rising to the station of a great lord where his expertise could be fully unleashed.
"I look forward to your performance, my lord," Daenerys said, her smile acknowledging Ian's flattery. "Now then," she turned to Celia and gave her orders, "bring one of the dragon eggs. We will make for the shore soon to hold a funeral for Viserys. The other two eggs are to be moved to my chambers."
Daenerys then faced Ian again. "I must prepare. Is there anything else you wish to tell me?"
"Nothing more, Your Majesty," Ian said, shaking his head.
"Your Majesty," Celia added with a simple curtsy.
Daenerys nodded and turned to leave.
As her silver-haired figure receded, Celia leaned closer to Ian and whispered, "Have you noticed? No one has taught her, yet she is learning how to be a queen all on her own."
*She always had a talent for it,* Ian thought. *She learned on her own in the books, didn't she? All her vassals were half-useless, none of them truly reliable, yet she still developed a keen political mind. Her education might have been lacking, but compared to most people in this world, she was brilliant.*
"That is not a good thing," Celia analyzed aloud. "You want a pliant tool, but given her character, I think that may be unrealistic. She is a queen now, and she will do everything in her power to grow into that role."
Celia continued, "If you were dealing with a noble girl like Sansa or Myrcella, you could use them to secure a claim and then sideline them, turning them into puppets. But you need her for her dragons. You cannot turn the Mother of Dragons into a puppet without risking everything. The moment her ideas run contrary to ours, it will become very dangerous."
"And it is inevitable that they will run contrary to ours," Celia added grimly. "When we reach Slaver's Bay, her saintly heart will overflow the moment she sees the slaves. It will be impossible to reason with her. Remember, in the stories, she protected the Lhazareen women from her husband's riders, defying Khal Drogo and all Dothraki tradition. She possesses a stubbornness in her kindness that is truly astonishing."
"Which is why, rather than trying to suppress her, my choice is to guide her," Ian said with a shrug, letting her know he was well aware of the risks.
"Guide her? You want to encourage her to have her own ideas?" Celia sounded incredulous.
"If I don't guide her, she will develop her own ideas anyway—and they will be unpredictable. I'm not teaching her how to think independently. I'm teaching her how to think like *me*. Only by making her accustomed to using my reasoning as the standard for her own will she be kept from causing us trouble."
"It sounds reasonable," Celia admitted, then covered her face with a hand and sighed. "Oh, gods. How did my poor, sweet Dany end up with a grand liar like you? You don't just want her title; you want her dragons, her body, and even her very soul."
"Yes, I am lying to her," Ian admitted without hesitation. "In fact, besides you and my own people, I almost never tell the truth. But of all the people I have ever deceived, she is by far the luckiest. What are my deceptions compared to the endless betrayals she was meant to endure?"
He began to tick them off on his fingers.
"In Pentos, she was deceived by her own brother, who promised to take her home but sold her to a Dothraki Khal instead."
"In Lhazar, she saved the godswife Mirri Maz Duur from rape and death, only for the witch to exploit her trust. In the guise of healing Drogo, she poisoned him. Then, under the pretense of saving his life with blood magic, she murdered the child in Daenerys's womb, Rhaego."
"After Drogo's death, his *khalasar* shattered. Dany led her few followers across the Red Waste to Qarth, where the merchant Xaro Xhoan Daxos took them in. He proposed to her countless times, but all he ever wanted was to steal her dragons."
"Next, she turned to the warlock Pyat Pree in the House of the Undying, hoping for their aid. Against all advice, she went to face the Undying Ones. They promised her knowledge, power, and the secrets of the dragon tongue, but they only meant to devour her life force. She only escaped with her dragon's help after burning them all to ash."
"She took Astapor and gained the Unsullied. She defeated Yunkai and agreed to spare the city on the condition that they free their slaves. The moment she left, Yunkai re-enslaved their people and began raising armies to march against her."
"She conquered Meereen and even married the nobleman Hizdahr zo Loraq to secure peace, but was betrayed all the same. The Sons of the Harpy slaughtered her Unsullied while enemies both inside and outside the city formed an alliance. The armies of New Ghis, Qarth, and even Volantis united to destroy her."
"And if you include the histories from that other telling," Ian said, his voice low, "it gets even worse. She was deceived by Cersei into marching north to fight the White Walkers, a war that cost her two of her dragons and her dearest friend, Missandei. And in the end, after she had finally taken King's Landing, she was stabbed through the heart by the very man she loved—Jon Snow, the man who had sworn to her, 'You will always be my queen.'"
Ian spread his hands. "What are my lies compared to all that? With me, she will know only victory and glory. There will be no pain and no sorrow."
"You are so confident," Celia murmured. "Do you truly believe you can win?"
"Compared to the days of panic and fear in Westeros and Pentos? In my current state," Ian said, patting Celia's rear with a soft clap, "it would be very difficult to lose. Now, get to work. We have a dragon to birth."
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