Chapter 47: I Am Very Sorry
From the thick parchment tomes, she gleaned three critical pieces of information:
First, a world map centered on Qarth, revealing the full geography of the known world.
Second, confirmation of her suspicions regarding the fabled White Cities.
Before Valyria's destruction, Slaver's Bay was connected to the Valyrian city-states by the Valyrian Road.
This road, constructed with magic and molten lava, was an integrated stone structure far wider and more durable than modern highways. Stretching across the known world, it linked almost all the city-states, including the Norvos region of Westeros.
As the saying goes: to prosper, first build roads.
There was no safer or faster route than the Valyrian Road. At that time, merchants often took the path of "Far East — Jade Sea — Qarth — White Cities — Slaver's Bay — Valyrian Road — to the rest of the world." It was this very route that gave rise to the desert marvels known as the White Cities.
Daenerys had made one mistake in her earlier assumptions: the dried riverbeds she saw were not natural but part of an artificial canal.
The Valyrians had forced their slaves to dig an artificial river, stretching nearly a thousand kilometers from the source of the Lhazar River, passing through two White Cities, and terminating at the third.
Three centuries ago, Valyria was destroyed in the Doom, and the entire land of the Long Summer became shrouded in a sinister curse. The Valyrian Road from Slaver's Bay to Volantis turned into a dreaded "Demon's Road."
Thus, the millennia-old Silk Road connecting East and West came to an abrupt end. Merchants were forced to travel by sea, bypassing the cursed lands to reach Qarth.
The White Cities, stripped of their value, fell into disrepair, with their canals gradually drying up due to the lack of maintenance.
Within less than a century, the weakened White Cities were obliterated by passing nomads.
But to return to the point, the third piece of information Daenerys discovered at the Memory Palace concerned Valyria itself.
The Dragonlords of Valyria had captured slaves as far east as the Dothraki Plains of Jogos Nhai. How could they have overlooked Qarth, so close by?
When the dragons arrived at the gates of Qarth, the ancient Qarthian royal family was annihilated. Only a single princess survived, becoming the wife of a Valyrian Dragonlord. These two individuals became the ancestors of the current Qarthian royals sitting before Daenerys.
Daenerys speculated that the royals both coveted her dragons and feared them deeply.
As the Mother of Dragons, she had the potential to become the progenitor of the next royal dynasty in Qarth, just as the Dragonlords had done centuries ago.
Thus, Daenerys made her plea to the royals seated above her:
"Oh, great rulers of the Immortal City of Qarth, I beseech you: lend me a fleet so that I may return to the homeland I yearn for day and night. The people of Westeros will be forever grateful for the return of their queen, delivered by your hands."
By the end of her request, tears streamed down her face, and she wept with sorrow.
The onions of Qarth were proving effective!
It was a little awkward, though. In the vast and empty hall, her muffled sobs echoed, highlighting just how silent and deserted it was. Not a single person responded.
"Wuu…wuu…" Perhaps the royals, too, felt the awkwardness of such a cold reception. From the high platform came the sound of faint weeping.
It was, of course, the stooge—Wendello—the one who had pocketed 777 golden honor coins from Daenerys.
"Daenerys, your words are truly moving. Your emotions have deeply touched me," Wendello said, wiping away tears.
Daenerys widened her eyes, hopeful he would continue and offer her dozens of warships.
"But I am enamored with music and uninterested in commerce. Unlike the Thirteen, who command vast fleets, I, though as wealthy as a kingdom, do not possess the great ships you need."
Daenerys felt a chill in her heart. This scoundrel! He claimed to be as rich as a kingdom, yet he was this stingy?
"Khaleesi, your attire, your etiquette, and your manner of speaking—all of it moves me," said another bribed royal, known as "Elegant Aegon," his voice trembling with emotion. He politely declined: "I am a royal, but I am also a poet. I am so moved by your plight that I wish to compose a poem for you."
With that, he began to weep as he recited poetry in melodious High Valyrian.
The poem spoke of the last princess of an ancient kingdom, who endured countless trials and tribulations, only to be miraculously supported by loyal subjects. She defeated the usurpers, married a dashing and noble prince, and rose to become a great queen.
Although the rulers of Qarth could not send a fleet to help Dany reclaim her homeland, at the very least, they could fulfill her dream in another way!
"Waaah, it's so touching. I, too, wish you success and glory as the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms," several individuals finally spoke for the first time—only to refuse her.
Some imitated Aegon's tactful refusal, while others remained silent, delivering their rejection without words.
At some point, the rotund steward, who had been standing quietly near the bottom left of the steps, suddenly moved a few paces toward the center. Without disturbing the royal family seated five meters above, he positioned himself where Dany could notice him.
Dany caught sight of his discreet gestures, signaling that today's audience had come to an end.
What? That's it?
Even if they weren't going to send a few warships, shouldn't there at least be some parting gifts?
She had spent over ten thousand golden coins on bribes alone.
To raise the funds, she had even sold off most of the gifts brought to her by visitors.
These Qartheen royals truly were a unique breed—completely ignoring the courtesies due to a guest and utterly stingy to boot!
Though she cursed their ancestors in her heart, Dany maintained a sorrowful demeanor, wiping away tears and expressing her gratitude to the royals before politely requesting permission to leave.
Outside the palace, she waited in the side courtyard's training grounds for an hour. By the time the sky began to darken, her three dragons landed beside her. She refitted their chains and then led her group back the way they came, departing the Palace of a Thousand Thrones.
At noon, she had arrived by ox cart under the scorching sun, when the streets were sparsely populated due to the oppressive heat. Now, nearing dusk, the broad avenues were packed with shoulder-to-shoulder crowds.
Ahead, Jhogo had no choice but to crack his whip in the air with loud snaps and shout from horseback, "Make way! You milk-drinkers, clear the road for the Mother of Dragons!"
But his clumsy Valyrian only drew curious gazes, doing nothing to ease the congestion. The ox cart could only inch forward at a snail's pace.
The wealthy merchant Xaro seemed unbothered by the chaos. Reclining lazily against a cushioned backrest covered with cooling bamboo mats, he poured ruby-red wine into matching goblets of emerald and gold. Steadily, he handed one to Dany across from him.
"My light of love, I see the sorrow in your swollen eyes, brimming with deep disappointment. They refused you, didn't they?"
Dany took the cup and gulped down more than half of its contents. "Your insight is as sharp as ever, discerning the truth at a glance. Yes, the royals mercilessly rejected me."
"Or rather," she added bitterly, "they never intended to help me in the first place. They called me there purely out of curiosity about my dragons and their own boredom."
Xaro showed no surprise at her words. While pouring himself a drink, he asked nonchalantly, "And what exactly did they say?"
"Wendelo claimed he had no ships and couldn't help me. 'Elegant Aegon' wept and recited a poem for me. Masos, who took 500 of my golden coins, didn't even bother to refuse properly," Dany sighed and asked, "Do you think I should have Ser Jorah ask for my money back?"
"Sigh, these Qartheen truly lack integrity. Dishonest people have no place in the business world, and yet Qarth is the largest trade hub in the world. No wonder the royals' power dwindles and their reputation worsens," Xaro sneered with contempt.
Then, he turned serious, cautioning Dany, "As for reclaiming your gifts, don't bring it up again—unless you want to wake up one night with an 'Assassin of Regret' slipping into my palace to harm you while you sleep."
"The 'Assassins of Regret,'" Dany nodded, deciding not to pursue the matter of retrieving her money from Masos.
The people of Qarth had two defining traits beyond their penchant for tears, which they considered a hallmark of civility: they were excessively polite.
Even Qartheen assassins were known for their courtesy, offering a formal, "I regret this," before dispatching their victims. This peculiar manner earned the ancient assassin guild its infamous title, "The Assassins of Regret."
Hmm, overly polite, self-important Qartheen. After her experience this afternoon at the Palace of a Thousand Thrones, Dany found little evidence of their famed civility.
"Oh, my love, don't be too disheartened. What you experienced today is hardly unique," Xaro said, spreading his arms wide and resting them across the back of his luxurious couch. He lightly swirled the wine in the goblet balanced between the fingers of his right hand.
"There's an old saying in Qarth: getting money from the royal family is harder than milking a stone bull in Pharos.
Do you know Pharos? It's an island in the Jade Sea where the people worship stone bulls. Isn't that fascinating?
If you'd marry me, my splendid yacht could take you there to see its scenic wonders. In fact, my trading caravans traverse the entire Jade Sea—you could go anywhere you wish.
We could travel to Yi Ti, or even search for the mythical Dreaming City of poets. On the Fields of Jhogo Snai, we could sip the wine of wisdom from the skulls of the dead."
"I will sail to Westeros and drink the wine of vengeance from the skull of the usurper," Dany replied, her eyes twinkling with a smile. "Why don't you come with me to King's Landing? The sights of the Sunset Lands are more beautiful and mysterious than those of the Jade Sea.
Beyond the Wall, there's the stunning Wall of the Wildlands, and I've heard tales of White Walkers in the Far North.
Do you know of the White Walkers? Terrifying creatures capable of bringing eternal night to the world—far more interesting than your stone bulls!"
"Let the White Walkers come, for even eternal night would be less chilling than facing your rejection again," Xaro lamented, wiping his face as tears welled up in his eyes once more.
Indeed, it seemed every Qartheen could shed tears at a moment's notice.
"I've told you many times," Xaro continued, "I'm a merchant. All merchants are pacifists; war is the death of stable trade. We may benefit from others' wars, but we never involve ourselves in them.
Besides, I can't fathom why you'd want that iron chair in King's Landing. I've heard your ancestor forged it from thousands of swords. It's cold, hard, and sharp—a monstrous thing.
Aren't you afraid those jagged spikes will scar your shapely backside?" With that, the merchant rejected Dany once again.
"Boom!"
From the street outside, a deafening roar erupted as countless citizens shouted in unison. The sound was so powerful it seemed as though it might overturn Dany's ox cart.
"Creak—" The cart came to an abrupt halt.
"What's going on?" Dany called out loudly from behind the gauzy curtains.
(End of Chapter)
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