As long as it was delicious, he would pick it up and eat it, effectively turning the future dragon into an omnivore.
An hour later, after crossing the Narrow Sea and flying north along the coast—which should be the direction of Dragonstone—Drogon found that the coastline was gradually submerged by seawater, forming a new sea surface. The sea area had expanded quite a bit, but there was no sign of Dragonstone.
Unsure of the situation, he could only continue north along the original route. After flying for twenty minutes, a huge island appeared in the distance. Overjoyed, he accelerated forward.
Only when he got closer could he see the island's true appearance. Although the island was large, there were no decent buildings on it, let alone a castle.
It wasn't Dragonstone, and he didn't know which island it was. After flying higher for a distance and scanning the entire sea surface for other islands to no avail, he could only continue flying forward.
Ten minutes later, still seeing nothing, he realized he had flown in the wrong direction. So, he changed course and flew towards the deep sea to the east. If he still couldn't find Dragonstone, he would have to circle the surrounding waters.
After another five minutes of flying, he saw a small island in the distance with a towering castle on it. He could also vaguely see large ships on the sea. This had to be it. Drogon felt a surge of joy.
As the Lord of Dragonstone, Stannis was very likely hiding here to lick his wounds after his defeat at King's Landing.
As he drew closer, the full view of the island became clear. The entire castle was built in the likeness of a dragon taking flight. Several regularly arranged high walls within the castle looked like the dragon's folded wings, and a long, narrow passage made of giant stones led from the beach straight to the castle.
About thirty warships of various sizes and states of repair were scattered around the castle. Observing Dragonstone from high above, Drogon was in no hurry to descend.
He didn't know where the long table map was located, only remembering that the room it was in was on very high ground and had a protruding balcony.
Waiting until dark would undoubtedly be the best time to look for the Painted Table, but it was only about ten in the morning now, and he couldn't wait that long.
Stannis's personal priestess, the Red Woman Melisandre, might have also come to Dragonstone with him. She was a powerful figure who had once given birth to a shadow son to assassinate Renly, used leeches to curse three false kings to death, and resurrected Jon.
Drogon was very wary of her and the Sorcerer's eerie methods; it was best not to meet her.
Carefully observing Dragonstone from high altitude, Drogon identified several tall buildings. Unable to see the specifics, he decided to check them one by one.
Selecting a building, he dove down at high speed, only slowing for a sudden stop as he approached the castle, landing on the terrace of an independent small tower.
As soon as he landed, he smelled the aroma of pancakes. Wrong choice, Drogon thought to himself. After listening to the movement inside for a moment, he realized it was busy. He poked his small head through the window and, sure enough, it was the kitchen, with several servants busy preparing a large amount of ingredients.
Flying away from the kitchen, he quickly moved to another target. Not it again.
Flapping his wings, he continued flying towards a clock-tower-like building higher up. Just as he flew past a small window and grabbed the edge of the tower, he suddenly felt like he had seen a pair of eyes the moment he passed the window.
He hadn't seen clearly because of his speed. He slowly flew to the windowsill of the small window, listened for a while, and after hearing no movement, poked his head in to confirm.
Just as he poked his head in, a pair of large azure eyes were slowly approaching the window. Before he could react, the owner of the large eyes screamed.
"Ah!"
The scream startled Drogon so much he almost fell off the windowsill.
A little girl was standing in front of the window, staring at him blankly. The book in her hand had been dropped on the floor in fright. Her chubby little mouth was slightly open, looking very cute, but unfortunately, the left side of her face was covered by a layer of grayish-black scaly skin.
Princess Shireen—Drogon immediately knew her name. A kind girl who loved to read, yet was heartlessly sacrificed to the lord of light by her father, Stannis.
Lowering his gaze, Drogon saw the book that had fallen on the floor: "Aegon the Conqueror's Conquest of Westeros."
Drogon's deepest impression of Shireen was of her teaching the Onion Knight how to read, and the tragic scene of her crying out in the fire, begging her father to spare her.
Drogon could only sigh that she was born in the wrong place and encountered a subhuman father. Looking at the dark room she lived in, one could tell what kind of life she usually led.
Seeing that Drogon didn't fly away, Shireen boldly opened the small window. Only then did she see Drogon's full appearance: his scales were exquisite and shiny black, his half-spread wings were like a scarlet cloak, and a brown backpack larger than his own body hung from his slender neck.
"You... are you a dragon?" Shireen asked timidly.
Drogon hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
"You can understand what I'm saying?" Shireen cried out in surprise upon seeing Drogon nod.
Seeing Drogon nod again, Shireen continued to ask: "Were you born from an egg? What are you doing here? Your backpack is so big, isn't it heavy?"
Drogon: "..."
Realizing that Drogon could only listen and not speak, Shireen said to herself: "You look so much like 'Balerion the Black Dread.' He was the largest and longest-lived dragon in history. I read that in a book!"
After Shireen finished speaking, she showed Drogon the book cover and flipped through the illustrations inside for him.
When Shireen mentioned the backpack, Drogon remembered there were still a few honeyed dates inside that he used as snacks. They were perfect for coaxing the little girl.
His small claw reached into the leather pouch and handed the remaining three honeyed dates to Shireen.
"Is... is this for me?" Shireen asked in surprise, looking at the translucent red honeyed dates.
Seeing Drogon nod, she carefully reached out, took one, and put it in her mouth. As the honeyed date entered her mouth, she closed her eyes sweetly, feeling it was the most delicious food she had ever eaten.
Looking at Shireen's cute expression with her eyes squinted, and then at the dark, narrow room she lived in, he guessed her parents hadn't given her much good to eat. Despite being a princess, her life was similar to that of Daenerys, the Targaryen princess.
Looking at her small face, Drogon remembered that Jorah's Greyscale had once been cured by Samwell. Shireen's face should also be curable.
However, Samwell was likely still playing hide-and-seek with the White Walkers at The Wall, and who knew when he would get to The Citadel. Before then, he had to ensure she wasn't burned to death by Stannis.
The only way to save Shireen was to rely on the Onion Knight, the smuggler who had delivered onions and salted fish as supplies to Stannis to solve his urgent need.
If he wasn't in the Dungeon now, he wasn't far from it. However, he lived longer than Stannis, surviving until the very end.
Shireen ate one honeyed date and licked her lips, looking at the other dates in Drogon's claw without reaching for them. Drogon extended his claw forward. Shireen looked at the remaining two dates, hesitated, and said, "I can just have one. Keep the other two for yourself!"
Drogon found her reluctant look a bit funny and pushed his claw forward again. Only then did Shireen carefully take another one.
"What's in your bag? It's so big! Isn't it heavy?" Shireen asked curiously while eating.
She wasn't eyeing other food inside, but was curious why such a small dragon like Drogon would carry a backpack larger than himself. She didn't think it was all filled with honeyed dates.
Drogon tilted his neck, took off the backpack, and placed it on the windowsill, signaling Shireen to look for herself, fully satisfying her curiosity.