Viserys also exchanged the treasures he brought from Dragonstone for gold dragons at the Iron Bank. Including what he already had, he now possessed approximately 600,000 gold dragons. Although this sum was enough to free him from financial worries, Viserys understood the importance of planning ahead. He had already instructed Ser Willem to contact various traders, intending to use the unique goods they brought to attempt transactions and gradually learn the ropes of trade.
At the same time, the accompanying soldiers couldn't just train; they needed to see blood. Viserys instructed Ser Arthur to look for suitable mercenary tasks, such as escorting merchants or clearing out pirates. This would not only provide them with extra income but also keep the soldiers' blades sharp through actual combat.
Overall, this month was relatively peaceful. The only minor incident occurred in the third week. A group of local thieves attempted to sneak into the warehouse at night to steal treasures, believing that this exiled party would carry a lot of wealth. However, they were ultimately caught by the patrolling soldiers. Ser Willem, following the rules of Braavos, did not resort to private torture but instead tied them up and handed them over to the city guard the next day. After this incident, the Sealord also concluded that they were relatively law-abiding, and thus reduced the number of guards monitoring them.
Just as they were settling in and beginning to consider their next steps, the Sealord's second invitation arrived.
This time, the messenger was an official from the The Sealords Manse, and his attitude was more respectful. When Viserys, accompanied by Ser Arthur and Ser Willem, went there again, the Sealord still received them in the same grand hall, and Syrio Forel was still guarding by his side. The difference was that this time, a set of simple tea ware was on the table, and the tea had a faint fragrance.
"It seems you've settled in well." The Sealord gestured for them to sit and poured tea himself. "Braavos gets a lot of rain; I hope you're adapting."
After the pleasantries, the Sealord put down his teacup, his expression becoming a bit more formal.
"A month is enough time to do many things, and enough to let news travel far," he said slowly. "I have a friend who wishes to meet you, Prince Viserys."
He paused. "He hopes this meeting can be sufficiently discreet, which would be better for both parties."
The Sealord's words were subtle, but the meaning was clear: this friend was from Westeros, but they had no intention of revealing themselves publicly yet. However, this could also be a trap. Although Braavos claimed neutrality, such words were merely for show. Even if an accident occurred, they could claim to have been deceived. If Viserys could be killed, Robert would likely be very willing to take responsibility for it.
"Risk and opportunity coexist, Your Highness," the Sealord finally said. "Braavos guarantees nothing, only provides a venue and a certain degree of information. The decision is yours. You can consider it for a few days; there's no need to reply immediately."
Viserys picked up the lukewarm teacup, inhaling the faint tea fragrance. Covertly, he was already using small animals to check the The Sealords Manse for any dangers. Unfortunately, there was nothing suspicious, which likely meant the person wasn't currently in the The Sealords Manse.
Viserys didn't let the silence last too long. He put down the teacup. "Since His Majesty the Sealord is providing the venue, then I am willing to meet this friend."
The Sealord seemed unsurprised; after all, in his view, Viserys would surely want to win over as many people as possible. "Very well, tomorrow evening, I will arrange for you to meet in a secret room in the The Sealords Manse. I will ensure no one disturbs you."
"Good." Viserys stood up. "I will arrive on time tomorrow."
Leaving the The Sealords Manse, Ser Arthur finally whispered, "Your Majesty, this is too risky."
"Waiting for others to come to us is equally dangerous. At least this time, we can prepare in advance. Ser Arthur, tomorrow you and Ser Jon will accompany me to the secret meeting. Have Ser Willem lead men to provide support outside, keeping an eye on everyone entering and exiting. Have Ser Alliser lead men to guard our stronghold and protect Daenerys and the others."
He paused, then added, "Also, have someone investigate immediately if any unidentified ships have entered Braavos recently, especially from the direction of Dorne." If it was Dorne, at least they shouldn't be enemies.
The next day, the The Sealords Manse seemed more deserted than usual.
The guide was still the same official from yesterday, but the Sealord was not present today. The official led them to a hidden iron-bound wooden door on the west side of the main hall and then left. Opening the door, the room contained only a long table and a few chairs, with brass lamps on the walls emitting a steady glow. The air smelled of dust and old parchment, and a very faint, warm scent of exotic spices. Arthur Dayne's hand remained poised on the hilt of 'Dawn', while Jonothor Darry surveyed the surroundings.
Two people were already seated at the table. The man at the head of the table leaned back in his chair, his posture lazy yet with a predator-like alertness. He had dark skin, slightly curly black hair, a somewhat lean face, and deep olive eyes. He wore a dark green outer coat with an open collar, and around his neck hung an ancient-looking golden sun emblem pendant.
At this moment, one of his hands rested casually on the small of his female companion's back, his fingertips disappearing into the folds of her sheer gown. The woman, Ellaria Sand, leaned against him, her coppery hair flowing, her face alluring with the unique wild beauty of Dorne. She seemed accustomed to the movement of his hand, even shifting slightly to allow him more comfortable contact, while her deep purple eyes sharply scrutinized Viserys as he entered.
"Viserys Targaryen," the man began, "I am Oberyn Martell. I imagine you still remember; we met at the Tourney at Harrenhal. This is Ellaria Sand, my paramour." He did not stand, merely gesturing casually with his free left hand.
"Prince Oberyn, is Dorne still loyal to House Targaryen?" Viserys sat opposite him, ignoring the hand that was still subtly moving. "I heard from the Sealord that you wished this meeting to be discreet."
"Discreet, because King's Landing has long ears, and Dorne's scars are still fresh." Oberyn withdrew his hand and sat upright, his eyes sharpening. "My sister Elia, my nephew Aegon, their blood hasn't been washed clean from The Red Keep's steps. Robert Baratheon and the Lannisters around him must pay for this."
He stared at Viserys, as if weighing an uncarved jade. "I can tell that your two knights, especially the Sword of the Morning, look at you as if you are a true king. This is very interesting. Perhaps you are more promising than you appear. And Dorne will not bend the knee to anyone, not now, and not ever."
"Since Dorne will not pledge allegiance," Viserys said calmly, "then what is the purpose of your visit for this meeting?"
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