Ignoring their protests, Daenerys shot them a warning glance.
"Are you sure you want to trade a dragon for me?" Kraznys asked, sitting up in his chair in surprise.
"Yes."
"I want two. Not this one," Kraznys said, glancing at the two dragons circling overhead before looking at Drogon. He wondered why Drogon was so much smaller than the others. Had he not developed properly in the egg?
"I'll only give you one," Daenerys replied, meeting his gaze.
"I want two."
"One," Daenerys answered firmly.
Seeing Daenerys's unyielding stance, Kraznys consulted with the obese Good Master beside him before saying, "Very well. One. I'll take the golden one."
With one of the world's last three dragons, Kraznys was confident he could sell it for a fortune—more than ten thousand Unsullied.
"I want her too. Now!" Daenerys pointed at the young female slave who served as her translator.
The girl looked up at Daenerys in surprise, wondering why the queen had suddenly taken an interest in her. Nevertheless, she faithfully translated Daenerys's words to Kraznys.
Kraznys looked the young slave girl up and down, then gave Daenerys a meaningful glance, a wicked smile curling his lips. "Since you like her, I'll give her to you—for the sake of a dragon."
They agreed to meet at the Unsullied training grounds south of the city in an hour. The slave girl followed Daenerys out of the Plaza of Pride, her heart fluttering with anxiety.
"What's your name?" Daenerys asked.
"My name is Missandei," the girl replied, her gaze drifting curiously to Drogon perched on Daenerys's shoulder. She admired the way his tiny, exquisite scales shimmered in the sunlight.
Sensing Missandei's gaze, Drogon turned and hissed twice at her: *Hello there, little Missandei!*
He had always been fond of this Dragon Mother's secret advisor.
Hearing Drogon greet Missandei, Daenerys glanced at her shoulder. She couldn't help but feel as though they were already well acquainted.
"You're mine now," Daenerys said, turning back to her. "You must tell me the truth."
"This servant would never lie to her master," Missandei replied, clasping her hands at her abdomen in a formal posture. "Such a thing would be punished with the most severe penalties."
"I am not your master, and you will never have one again." With that, Daenerys drew the dagger from Jorah's waist, seized Missandei's collar, and sliced it free with a swift motion, tossing it to the ground.
Missandei touched her neck, her small mouth slightly agape as she gazed at Daenerys, then at the discarded collar in the dust. A wave of confusion and overwhelming relief washed over her. She had never imagined she would be freed from her chains in such a way.
Seeing Daenerys remove Missandei's collar, Jorah fell into thoughtful silence.
Barristan opened his mouth to protest Daenerys's decision to exchange gold dragons for the Unsullied, but Jorah silenced him with a look.
Back at the docks, Rhaegal and Viserion landed on deck. Daenerys ordered the creation of iron shackles and a large wooden cage.
After comforting Viserion in her arms for a while, she quietly tried to slip the shackles onto his claws. Though the purpose of the shackles, connected to a long chain, remained unclear, even Viserion's young mind knew they were not good things. He flailed his claws, resisting Daenerys's attempts to put them on.
Now that Viserion was larger than Mianyang, Daenerys couldn't budge his powerful claws. The edges of the shackles scraped against his wrist several times, not hurting him but making him agitated. He bared his teeth at her in a threatening display.
*Smack!*
Drogon swatted Viserion on the head. Though his claws were small, the force behind them was astonishing.
Viserion turned to protest, but met Drogon's fiery gaze. His head drooped, and he allowed Daenerys to fasten the shackles around his wrist. He retreated into the wooden cage, whimpering. Rhaegal, who had been watching the commotion from nearby, took fright and flapped his wings, soaring into the sky.
The two young dragons had been obedient in their youth, but as they grew, they became less compliant with Daenerys, often baring their teeth at her. After Drogon disciplined them a few times, they stopped daring to threaten her. But today, pushed to the limit, their true nature resurfaced.
Seeing Viserion meekly enter the cage, Daenerys stroked Drogon's small head and kissed his scale-covered face. Without him, she knew it would have been nearly impossible to tame the dragons, let alone ride them. Being a dragon rider was no easy task.
Ignoring Viserion's furious roars from within the cage, Daenerys left a few Dothraki warriors to guard the cargo ship and took Jorah, the Bloodriders, and others to the city's southern district.
The wide open space in the south was already crowded with eight thousand well-trained Unsullied, along with nearly a thousand Unsullied who had yet to complete their brutal training and child recruits.
Seated in the stands of the training ground were Good Masters and their families, dressed in opulent robes, who had rushed to witness the sight of the true dragon.
Four Dothraki men carried the massive wooden cage as they followed Daenerys to the Good Masters' viewing area.
The eight thousand Unsullied did not all belong to Kraznys; he was merely the one who owned the largest number.
The Good Masters and their families were captivated by the cage, which swayed and trembled on the ground. Daenerys ordered the cage opened and, with a blank expression, walked over, grabbed the iron chain handle, and pulled out Viserion, his face contorted in fury, his eyes blazing as if ready to spew fire.
Once outside the cage, Viserion glanced left and right, then spread his wings to take flight. He had flown less than five meters when the iron chain snapped taut, restraining him. He flapped his wings furiously, but Daenerys, gripping the chain with both hands, could not stop his struggles.
Just as Daenerys was about to lose her grip on the chain, Drogon, perched on her shoulder, let out a young, fierce roar at Viserion. The larger dragon immediately calmed down, daring only to flutter his wings gently to maintain balance.
The Good Master and his entourage were astonished to see Drogon's single roar subdue the flying dragon. Kraznys's expression darkened with uncertainty.
*Did I make the wrong choice?* he wondered. *Should I have taken the smaller one that was standing on that Westerosi woman's shoulder instead?*
*But how could the larger one be so much weaker than the smaller one? Could it be a matter of bloodline? Is the smaller one the Dragon King's son?*
"Good Master Kraznys, let's trade now!" Daenerys interrupted Kraznys's thoughts. He knew it was too late to back out.
With a scowl, he descended from the viewing platform, handing the short whip in his left hand to Daenerys and taking the chain in his right.
"Agreed!" Daenerys said, the whip in her hand.
"Agreed!" Missandei translated.
Kraznys: "Agreed!"
"Agreed!" Missandei translated again.
Seeing the chain transferred to Kraznys's hand, Viserion thrashed even more violently than when he was in Daenerys's grip.
Kraznys now understood the difficulty Daenerys had faced earlier. He bent over, straining to pull Viserion, and was dragged toward the center of the arena.
Daenerys ignored Viserion's desperate struggles and pained roars behind her. Her expression was resolute as she strode forward, whip held high.
-----------------------
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(End of Chapter)