The central area of the Perfume Garden was partitioned by an exquisite openwork iron archway, through which the deeper courtyards and more magnificent architectural silhouettes were faintly visible.
Four guards stood on either side of the archway, their armor etched with intricate patterns and their eyes as hollow as those of the Unsullied in the outer garden.
As Aegon approached, two of the guards crossed their spears, blocking his path.
"Halt," the guard's voice was flat and devoid of emotion. "The inner courtyard is not open to the public today; the Magister is receiving honored guests."
Aegon paused slightly.
He hadn't expected to encounter such a cliché scenario in a place so renowned for its openness and indulgence.
Behind him, Henry was momentarily stunned, while the hands of the other two Bloodsworn soldiers moved toward their sword hilts.
Just then—
"Oh? A new face..."
A voice, distinctly frivolous and surprised, came from the other side of the archway.
Accompanied by slightly disorganized footsteps, a young noble, surrounded by three or four attendants, came wobbling over with an unsteady gait.
He appeared to be in his early twenties, dressed in the brightly colored silk robes characteristic of Lys. His long, dark brown hair was meticulously curled and draped over his shoulders, his face was lightly powdered, and his lips possessed an unnatural flush.
His gaze was initially somewhat blurred from drink, but the moment it swept across Aegon's face, his light brown eyes suddenly lit up.
"Truly... a stunning face." The young noble made no effort to hide his scrutiny as he looked Aegon up and down, his gaze lingering particularly long on the silver hair and violet eyes.
He waved a hand and said to the guards, "Stand down. This... Excellency is clearly a noble guest from afar. How could you block him?"
The guards exchanged a glance and silently retracted their spears.
The young noble turned to Aegon, his face displaying what he believed to be a dashing smile.
He bowed slightly. "I am Cassimir, Cassimir Antalion. Perhaps you would care to tell me your name and honor me with a drink?"
Antalion.
A Magister family of Lys.
Aegon's gaze calmly met Cassimir's undisguised look of inquiry mixed with a certain ambiguous fervor.
It wasn't the first time he had seen such a look, but it was the first time it had been so blunt and from a male noble.
A trace of icy coldness flickered in the depths of Aegon's eyes.
"My hand," he spoke, his voice like tempered steel, "is better suited for holding a sword than a wine glass."
He paused, and under Cassimir's slightly stiffening smile, continued, "There's no need for names. However, thank you for the intervention."
No pleasantries, no small talk, not even an intention to offer a false name.
Blunt, cold, and distancing.
The smile on Cassimir's face completely froze.
He clearly hadn't expected that in Lys, after announcing the name Antalion, someone would still dare to be so disrespectful.
The expressions of the attendants behind him instantly changed.
A burly man with a fleshy face and a neck tattoo stepped forward, pointing at Aegon and shouting sternly, "Impudent! Do you know who you are talking to? Master Cassimir's invitation is an honor! You—"
"Clang!" "Clang!"
The swords of Henry and the two Bloodsworn soldiers instantly cleared their scabbards by half an inch, the cold sound of metal on metal cutting off the burly man's shouting.
The three of them stepped forward half a pace, faintly forming a triangular formation to protect Aegon in the center.
They didn't roar; they simply stared at the opposition in silence, their eyes filled with the killing intent forged in mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
Intimidated by this aura, the burly man's subsequent words got stuck in his throat.
Cassimir's expression turned completely dark, and his powdered face appeared even paler.
Humiliation and rage intertwined in his eyes as he stared fixedly at Aegon, his lips twitching.
Just then—
"Lord Cassimir, what a pleasant surprise. Are you here chatting with... a guest from afar?"
A soft, sweet female voice interjected perfectly.
Everyone's attention was drawn toward it.
A graceful beauty approached, accompanied by two maids.
She possessed the signature lustrous long hair of the Lysene, which was delicately tied into a bun, revealing her slender neck.
Her skin was a smooth honey color, and she wore a light violet silk dress covered by a translucent, pearl-gray gauze robe.
Her features were finely sculpted; her almond-shaped eyes were large and charming, and her full lips, painted with pale purple rouge, were currently curved into a flawless, sweet arc.
Upon seeing the newcomer, Cassimir's gaze instantly tore away from Aegon, the gloom in his eyes quickly replaced by fervor.
"Miss Sa Melis! Why are you here? This ill-mannered brat..."
Sa Melis first cast a smile at Cassimir, her voice soft. "Cassimir, why get so upset over a trifle?"
"With your status, to take issue with a guest from afar—wouldn't that be beneath your dignity?"
Her words seemed like a reconciliation, yet they cleverly positioned Aegon as someone "not worth taking issue with," while simultaneously giving Cassimir a way out.
"I heard the commotion from afar and came to see."
Her voice was soft and sweet, carrying the lazy lilt characteristic of Lys. "Cassimir, given your position, there's no need to quarrel with a guest from afar who perhaps isn't yet familiar with our Lysene 'hospitality,' is there?"
Cassimir's expression shifted, and he seemed to want to say more, but Sa Melis had already charmingly changed the subject. "Speaking of which, two'special' guests have arrived in the garden today. Have you seen them?"
"The... orphans from across the Narrow Sea. That Prince, he is truly..." She paused perfectly.
"Targaryen?" Cassimir's attention was indeed captured, his face showing a mix of disdain and curiosity. "Hmph, nothing more than stray dogs..."
Aegon's gaze narrowed slightly as he listened to their conversation.
Targaryen? How could that be?
Taking advantage of his distraction, Sa Melis lightly tapped his arm with her fan, her tone intimate yet urging. "Very well, there are several lords waiting for you inside. Go in quickly; don't keep them waiting."
"I will take care of hosting this guest."
Pushed by the beauty's soft words and hearing that "several lords were waiting," Cassimir hesitated for a moment. Ultimately, he gave Aegon a fierce glare, let out a huff, and led his attendants away into the inner courtyard in frustration.
Once Cassimir was far away, Sa Melis turned around to face Aegon again.
The perfect smile remained on her face, but the inquiry in her eyes had deepened.
"First time at the Perfume Garden?" she asked, her voice now possessing a more natural warmth. "Master Cassimir is simply... naturally 'passionate' about beautiful things. Sometimes he's unavoidably a bit hasty."
"I hope he didn't disturb you."
She stepped aside and made a gesture of invitation. "If you don't mind, I can take you inside for a look. The scenery of the inner courtyard is indeed quite different from the outside."
Aegon's gaze lingered on her face for a moment. This woman's appearance was too coincidental, her way of defusing the situation too practiced, and her choice of words too precise.
She was definitely not just an ordinary maid in the garden.
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