Chapter 32: Influence

The attempted assassination of Vlad by the warlocks of Qarth had plunged the city into terror. Slaves and commoners trembled at the thought of awakening the wrath of the Impaler Lord, well aware that the nobles would not hesitate to sacrifice them to save themselves. But just when panic reached its peak, something unexpected happened: Vlad's men began boarding Qarth's war fleets.

The people of the city breathed a collective sigh of relief. Surely Vlad had negotiated some form of compensation with Qarth's nobility, and the whole affair had been settled without bloodshed.

While the city relaxed, the situation at the docks told a very different story. Jorah Mormont, one of the few of Vlad's generals with naval experience, oversaw the loading of supplies and troops onto the eighty ships that Qarth had "ceded" as an apology.

And he wasn't particularly happy about it.

Jorah had sworn to protect Daenerys, and for the past year he had fulfilled that oath with every fiber of his being. At first, he believed the "savage" she had married was just that: a barbarian with too much ambition. But Vlad Drakul was no ordinary man. Soon, Jorah realized that the one he shared a tent with wasn't merely a formidable warrior—he was something else entirely… something Jorah couldn't quite understand.

He had fought at his side while he subdued the Dothraki, watched him slice men to pieces without a single drop of his own blood touching the ground. Vlad didn't tire, didn't fall ill, didn't falter. Jorah had fought many men in his life, but he had never met someone who seemed so divorced from human nature itself. And when, somehow, Vlad brought the dragons back to life, Jorah understood that facing him would be as foolish as trying to stop the sea with one's hands.

His only option was to protect Daenerys and make sure cruelty didn't consume her completely. He always tried to counsel her with prudence, guiding her so she wouldn't adopt her husband's ruthless ways. And though he saw her change over time—slowly hardening—he also felt proud of her. She was no longer a frightened girl, but a true leader.

Now Jorah had less time with Daenerys, as he'd taken on a more active role in the army, thanks to earning her trust. A shame his conscience still weighed heavy with the betrayal he didn't dare confess.

Meanwhile, in Vlad's tent…

Vlad was organizing the logistics of their new ships and spoils alongside Daenerys.

—Now we have enough ships to raid Slaver's Bay. That will be our next stop —Vlad declared with confidence.

Daenerys, however, didn't seem entirely convinced.

—Are you sure you can leave the city under the command of your… spawn? Will they follow your orders? Will they free the slaves? —she asked, concerned.

Vlad smiled, as if he had already anticipated every one of her doubts.

—Dany, relax. I have everything under control. In fact, the plan is for us to leave and for my spawn to take full command of the city. They will tell the people that Vlad Drakul Targaryen has bought the freedom of every slave in Qarth, and that in his honor, slavery is abolished forever.

Daenerys frowned.

—And what about the slaves? How are they going to survive? —she asked, still uneasy. She knew Vlad did all this for her, but it was hard to believe he'd risk creating new problems just to please her.

Vlad sighed and looked at her with patience.

—The city will still need a labor force. The same merchants who once owned them will now have to hire them, rent them places to sleep, and sell them food. On paper, nothing will change… but in practice, the freedom to leave changes everything. A slave doesn't want to stop working—they want to be able to choose.

—I'll trust you —Daenerys said firmly—. I know you're thorough. But we also need to talk about other things.

Vlad raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

—And that would be…?

—I think it's time I take a more active role in this whole conquest —she declared with determination.

Vlad looked at her intently, weighing her words. He didn't like putting her in danger, but he also didn't want to be overly protective. Giving her some autonomy wouldn't be a problem, but…

—Exactly what do you want? —he asked, curious about where the conversation was heading.

Daenerys didn't hesitate for a second.

—I think you should let me take one of the cities in Slaver's Bay—let me conquer it —she announced seriously.

Vlad observed her for a moment, the thought crossing his mind.

—I understand the impulse, believe me —he said, his tone now more diplomatic—, but war affects many lives. I think we should think this through first, discuss it with the other generals. And especially not while standing outside an enemy city —he added with a faint smile.

Daenerys understood that this might not be the best time to push, but she wasn't going to let it go.

—We'll talk about it tomorrow —she emphasized, her gaze firm, making it clear she wouldn't drop the matter.

Vlad, unable to help feeling mildly amused, smiled half-heartedly.

—Fine, fine —he said, teasing her slightly—. You know I have no problem arguing this later —he added with a playful wink.

Daenerys opened her mouth to reply, but Vlad silenced her with a kiss.

—I wonder, are all Targaryen princesses this stubborn… or is it just you? —he asked with a smirk.

She chuckled softly.

—I assure you, I'm one of the more relaxed ones.

But the warmth in her eyes faded when Vlad took on a more serious tone—he had just received a telepathic message from one of his blood riders and knew it was best to tackle two thorny issues at once.

—My love, I don't mean to ruin the mood… but we have some unpleasant matters to deal with.

Daenerys frowned.

—What now?

Vlad looked at her before sighing. Best to rip the bandage off quickly.

—Your advisor, Jorah Mormont… and your brother.

Daenerys's face darkened immediately.