Daenerys Targaryen did not sleep well for the next three nights.
Not because she was having nightmares. In fact, the nightmares had completely disappeared since she received the letter. The problem was that her mind kept racing, processing, analyzing, trying to figure out what to do.
The letter was hidden under a loose floorboard in her room. She had read it so many times she practically had it memorized. Every word. Every unspoken promise.
"A place where no one will force you to do anything you don't want to do."
It sounded too good to be true.
Illyrio 's elaborate lies , nor like Viserys 's empty promises . It sounded... honest. Raw. As if the author truly didn't know how to convince her and simply decided to tell the truth.
And that, paradoxically, made her more believable.
—Dany, are you listening?
Daenerys blinked, snapping out of her thoughts. She was in the manor's dining room, having breakfast with Viserys and Illyrio . Well, "having breakfast" was a bit of an exaggeration. She was nibbling on bread while Viserys talked and talked about his glorious plans.
—Sorry, brother. What were you saying?
Viserys looked at her with irritation.
"I said Khal Drogo will arrive in four days. FOUR DAYS, Dany. And you have to be ready. You have to look beautiful. Stunning." Her eyes held that gleam of madness that Daenerys knew all too well. "This marriage will give us back our throne. The Dothraki will cross the Narrow Sea, they will burn the Usurper's kingdom, and I will reclaim what is rightfully mine."
Daenerys nodded mechanically.
Four days.
In four days she was sold to a man she didn't know. A warlord who, according to rumors, was brutal, violent, and treated women like property.
And she had no say in all of this.
Except... now I had it.
The letter had given him something he'd never had before: an alternative.
" Are you excited, my dear girl?" Illyrio asked in his oily voice, smiling from behind his greasy beard. "You're going to be the Khaleesi of the greatest Dothraki horde. It's an honor."
"Yes, Magister, " Daenerys lied . "I'm... excited."
I wasn't.
I was terrified.
But more than that, I was tired.
Illyrio 's fake smiles as he sold her to the highest bidder.
Tired of not having control over her own life.
"The decision is yours."
Those words echoed constantly in his mind.
Could she really run away? Abandon Viserys ? Trust a complete stranger?
But... what was worse? The familiar and horrible? Or the unknown and possibly better?
"Dany, are you ignoring me AGAIN?" Viserys ' voice rose in pitch.
—No, brother. I'm listening.
"Then pay attention. This is important. You ca n't ruin this." Viserys leaned toward her, his breath smelling of wine despite it being mid-morning. "If you ruin this marriage, if Drogo rejects you, I swear by the Seven that I will make you understand what it means to awaken the dragon. Do you understand ?"
Daenerys swallowed and nodded.
Viserys always threatened to "awaken the dragon." It was his favorite phrase when he wanted to scare her.
And it worked.
But as she nodded and murmured submission, something inside her began to harden.
I was fed up.
Fed up with Viserys . Fed up with Illyrio . Fed up with being treated like an object.
That afternoon, when she was finally alone in her room, Daenerys took out the letter again.
He read the last part:
"If you come, we'll protect you. If you don't come, I'll destroy this letter and we'll never speak of this again. The decision is yours."
He looked at the map on the back. It was simple but clear. Astoria was east of Pentos , a half-day's journey. There were markings indicating landmarks, roads, and warnings about patrols.
Whoever drew it had thought of everything.
Daenerys closed her eyes.
He took a deep breath.
And she made her decision.
That night, Daenerys packed a small bag with the few things she considered important: a dress, some food she had saved from lunch, and a silver brooch that had belonged to her mother. It was the only thing she owned that had sentimental value.
He waited until midnight, when he knew Viserys would be drunk and asleep, and the servants would be in their own rooms.
She changed into simple clothes: a dark dress she wore to blend in, a hooded cloak, and comfortable walking shoes.
Her heart was beating so loudly that she was sure someone could hear it.
She opened her bedroom door slowly, grateful that it didn't squeak.
The hallway was empty. Torches cast dancing shadows.
Daenerys walked with ghostly steps toward the servants' stairs that led to the first floor. She had used them before when exploring the mansion on her days of boredom.
She descended slowly, holding her breath on each creaking step.
He reached the first floor.
The side gate that led to the gardens had no guard at this hour ( Illyrio was rich but lax with internal security).
Daenerys opened it and went out into the garden.
The cool night air hit her like a liberating slap.
He almost laughed.
Almost.
But he knew he hadn't escaped yet.
He ran through the garden, staying in the shadows, avoiding the routes patrolled by the outside guards.
He reached the back wall of the mansion.
Three meters high.
There was no way she could climb it alone.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath.
And now what? I hadn't thought about this part. In fairy tales, princesses who escaped always had magical help or convenient ladders.
parkour skills .
— Do you need help?
Daenerys almost screams.
He turned around and saw a figure emerging from the shadows. A man, dressed entirely in black, with a hood that concealed most of his face.
"Relax," the man said softly, raising his hands. "I'm Marcos. The one who wrote you the letter."
Daenerys looked at him with enormous eyes.
—How ...how did you know I was coming tonight?
"I didn't know." Marcos shrugged. "I've been coming by every night since I left you the letter. Just in case."
—That's... dedication.
"Or madness. Probably both." Marcos smiled, though she could barely see him in the darkness. "Do you still want to leave? Because I can help you get out of here. But once we cross that wall, there's no going back. At least not easily."
Daenerys looked towards the mansion.
He thought of Viserys sleeping off his drunkenness, dreaming of his nonexistent throne.
He thought of Illyrio planning to sell her as merchandise.
She thought of Drogo, a stranger who would claim her as his wife without asking her opinion.
And then he thought about the letter.
In the promise of election.
"I want to leave," she said firmly. "Now."
Marcos nodded.
Okay . This is going to be weird, but I need you to trust me.
- That...?
Before she could finish the question, Marcos lifted her in his arms as if she weighed nothing.
- WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!
—Saving you in a dramatic and awkward way. Hang in there.
And then he jumped.
It wasn't a normal jump. It was a jump that easily took them five meters into the air, clearing the wall as if it were a minor obstacle.
They landed on the other side without a sound, Marcos' feet absorbing the impact as if nothing had happened.
Daenerys clung to him, her eyes closed, her heart racing.
— WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?
—Magic. I told you it was weird.
Marcos gently lowered her, making sure her feet touched the ground.
Daenerys looked at him, still processing what had just happened.
—You... you can do magic. Real magic.
"Yes. Among other things." Marcos pointed into the darkness. "But now we need to move. I have a horse waiting a few blocks from here. Once we're out of the city, we'll be safe."
—What if they come after us?
—They won't catch us. Trust me.
Daenerys looked him in the eyes.
I couldn't see much in the dark, but there was something about the way he spoke. Confidence. But not arrogance. As if he truly believed what he was saying.
" Okay," she finally said. "I trust you."
—Good decision. Let's go.
They ran through the dark streets of Pentos , staying in the shadows. Marcos seemed to know exactly where to go, avoiding patrols and busy areas.
They arrived at an alley where a brown horse was tied up, waiting patiently.
— Daenerys , I present to you Rocinante. Rocinante, Daenerys .
The horse whinnied softly.
—Did you name your horse?
"Everyone deserves a name." Marcos mounted the horse and extended his hand. " Come on . We have to leave the city before dawn."
Daenerys took his hand and let him help her up. She sat behind him, clinging to his waist as Rocinante began to trot.
They passed through the city gates without any problem (Marcos did something with his magic that made the guards literally not see them, which was terrifying and fascinating at the same time).
And then they were outside.
Pentos disappeared behind them.
Daenerys looked back one last time.
She was leaving behind the only life she knew.
But for the first time in years, she felt no fear.
He felt free.
The journey to Astoria took him six hours (Marcos admitted to getting lost twice, which was incredibly humanizing for someone with magical powers).
They talked along the way. Marcos told her about Astoria: how he had founded it, what he was building, how many people lived there.
Daenerys told him about her life: years of running away, of living under the "protection" of nobles who really only wanted to use her, of enduring Viserys and his delusions.
"Your brother sounds like an epic idiot," Marcos commented.
Daenerys laughed. It was a genuine, spontaneous laugh, something she hadn't done in months.
—You shouldn't talk about a prince like that.
" Prince of what? He lost his kingdom. And from what you tell me , he's violent, a drunk, and an abuser." Marcos glanced back over his shoulder. "I owe no respect to people like that, regardless of their title."
Daenerys didn't know how to respond to that.
Because he was right.
As the sun began to rise, Daenerys saw Astoria for the first time.
It wasn't big. It was not impressive compared to Pentos .
But there was something different about her.
The walls were solid, perfectly constructed, with towers that rose towards the sky. There were orderly buildings, clean streets, and people moving with purpose.
And in the center, waving on a mast , was a black banner with a golden double-headed eagle.
"Welcome to Astoria," Marcos said as they approached the gates. "It's not much yet, but it's a start."
The doors opened automatically (magic, Daenerys assumed).
People stared at them curiously as they walked by. Some waved to Marcos. Others simply gazed at the silver-haired girl with fascination.
Marcos took her to a building that seemed bigger than the others.
"This is my residence. Well, it's half residence, half administrative office. I'm still working out the layout." He dismounted and helped her out. " Come on , I'll show you your room."
— My room?
"Yes. I thought you'd want your own space." Marcos led her inside. "Second floor, at the end of the hall. It has a bed, a wardrobe, a window overlooking the valley, a private bathroom... well, as private as I can manage with current technology. It's yours for as long as you want to stay."
They arrived at the room.
Marcos opened the door.
It was simple. A four-poster bed, a wooden wardrobe, a small table with a chair, a large window that let in natural light.
Illyrio 's mansion .
But it was... welcoming.
And most importantly: it was his.
— What do you think?
Daenerys walked slowly inside, touching the bed, looking out the window.
She could see the valley stretching out before her. People working in fields. Children playing. Normal life.
"She's perfect," he whispered.
"Okay." Marcos smiled. " Get some rest. I know it was a long night. When you're ready, come downstairs and I'll introduce you to everyone. Oh, and..." He paused at the door. "No one here is going to force you to do anything. There are no expectations. No plans. You decide what you want to do with your life, okay ?"
Daenerys looked at him.
This strange man who had appeared out of nowhere, who had rescued her, who had given her shelter without asking for anything in return.
" Why?" he asked. "Why did you do all this for me?"
Marcos looked at her seriously.
"Because when you have the power to change something bad, and you choose not to, you're complicit in evil." He shrugged. "And I prefer not to be complicit."
She left, closing the door gently.
Daenerys stood in the middle of her new room.
And then, for the first time in years, she allowed herself to cry.
But they were not tears of fear or sadness.
They were tears of relief.
He had escaped.
He was free.
And for the first time in his life, his destiny was his own.
Meanwhile, at Pentos :
Illyrio Mopatis was not a man easily frightened.
But when she discovered that Daenerys Targaryen had disappeared from his mansion in the middle of the night, and he felt something very close to panic.
" WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE DISAPPEARED?" he roared at his guards. "HOW CAN YOU LET A THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD GIRL ESCAPE FROM A MANSION WITH TWENTY GUARDS?"
"No... we don't know, Magister," stammered the captain of the guard. "There were no signs of a struggle. He just... left."
" Find her! Search the city! Offer a reward!" Illyrio was red with fury. "Drogo arrives in four days! If I don't have the bride, he'll kill me!"
As the guards rushed off to carry out orders, Illyrio slumped back in his chair, breathing heavily.
This was a disaster.
A complete disaster.
Varys was going to kill him.
And Viserys ...
Speaking of the dragon king, the exiled prince burst into Illyrio 's office , his eyes wide.
—WHERE IS MY SISTER!
—He's gone, prince. He fled during the night.
" He fled? Why would he flee?" Viserys grabbed Illyrio by the clothes. "This was MY plan! MY chance to reclaim my throne! And you let it slip away!"
—Calm down, prince...
" I WON'T CALM DOWN!" Viserys ' eyes held that mad gleam. "We're going to find her! And when we find her, I'm going to teach her what it means to awaken the dragon! I'M GOING TO TEACH HER NOT TO RUIN MY PLANS!"
Illyrio managed to free himself from Viserys 's grip with difficulty.
—We will find her, Prince. We will find her.
But deep down, Illyrio had his doubts.
Pentos was large. And if Daenerys had planned this, if she'd had help...
I could be anywhere.
In Astoria:
Marcos was in his office when Garrett ran in.
—Boss ! You did it! You brought her!
—Yes, well, she made the decision to come. I just helped her with the logistics.
" Do you know what this means? You just kidnapped the last Targaryen from the clutches of a Magister of Pentos and a Dothraki Khal ." Garrett laughed. "They're coming for her. With everything."
"I know." Marcos leaned back in his chair. "That's why I need us to start serious defense preparations. Reinforce the guards. Double shifts in the towers. And I want you to start training the civilians in basic combat."
—Do you think it's going to be war?
"I think it's inevitable." Marcos looked out the window at the valley. "But I'm ready."
And as he said this, in his mind, the plans began to take shape.
Defense plans.
Expansion plans.
And plans for when Drogo and his forty thousand Dothraki came seeking revenge.
Because Marcos Vidal Santacruz had not rescued Daenerys Targaryen to hand it back.
He had rescued her to completely change the game.
And the game was just getting started.
[END OF CHAPTER 8]