The Rise Of A Dragon - Chapter 26: Mantarys

Aerea and the others finally find themselves in Mantarys, the infamous city of monsters.

Three Moons Later 

Aerea could see the infamous city of monsters in the distance as she sat at the head of the caravan. 

The retinue had been forced to dock northwest of the Lands of the Long Summer and travel along the red waters of the Sea of Sighs to get there. 

Of course, father would instead of choosing Meereen or even Yunkai which could have been reached by ship, he would make me go to a city that is inland to begin my search. Aerea thought. 

The journey had been an arduous one, filled with only brief moments of awe at the sights she encountered before melancholy would find her again, and she would be reminded of the position that she was in. 

She did not even know where to start looking for Blackfyre, all she knew was that no one had seen the sword since the death of Aegor Rivers. 

Aegor died in 241 AC, but the Blackfyre cause did not end until the War of the Ninepenny Kings when Barristan slew the fifth Blackfyre pretender King, Maelys the Monstrous, in single combat in 260Ac, and ending House Blackfyre. So, would that mean that the Golden Company is in possession of the sword? The current captain-general could have decided not to use the sword out of respect and loyalty while keeping it in their possession, but I feel if that was the case then it would be definitively known that they have Blackfyre, and word of it being lost would not have spread. 

 The princess sighed as her thoughts spiraled uselessly, reminding her that she had been sent east with nothing but expectations and no guidance. 

“Aerea,” The girl turned her head as Steffon urged his horse closer to her own, the Lord of Storm’s End riding at her side with a guarded expression.  

“You should not ride ahead of the guards,” Steffon said quietly. “Not here.” 

Aerea followed his gaze and saw a city that rose from the red-brown earth in the distance like a wound that refused to heal—its towers crooked; its walls mismatched, as if built by people who could not agree on shape or purpose of them. 

The architecture reminded her of a lesser version of Dragonstone, at least from the artwork she had seen of it, and the brief glimpse of it she had caught when she and the Baratheon fleet first left King’s Landing and were heading toward Pentos. 

“Mantarys is as old as it is dangerous and just as rich and glorious, princess,” Aerea turned to look at their guide when he spoke to her. 

Joro Phassah was a traveler that they had found when they briefly stopped in the port of Volantis, paying him to help them traverse the northern edges of the Valyrian peninsula given his experience navigating the ruins and twisted roads left behind by the Doom. 

He was shorter than the average man, with skin the color of old bronze and a face marked by thin, pale scars. His dark eyes flicked constantly, toward the road ahead, the distant city, the men behind them, maintaining his vigilance. 

“How often have you come to the city, Joro?” Aerea quietly asked. 

Joro smiled, though there was little warmth in it. “It is not as bad as some of the rumors would have you believe, although the people are a strong and swaggering bunch. They take pride in their city being founded by the Valyrian Freehold and the old blood that flows through many of their veins.” 

“And the monsters that have been said to walk amongst them? Are they too just mere rumors?” Steffon asked coldly. 

“Some of them I can admit look a bit... strange, compare to you and me,” Joro said, his lips curling upward. “But the claims that monsters roam the streets are but an exaggeration, my lord.” 

Steffon turned away from the guide, his jaw set, unconvinced by Joro’s words, but he did not press the matter further. 

Aerea said nothing, her eyes drifting back toward the city, still thinking about how she ended up in this situation. 

The caravan began to slow down as they approached the gates; they found it being guarded by two men, although Aerea did not doubt that they were more guards standing along the curtain walls, hidden behind arrow slits. 

“Halt. State your purpose,” The taller guard called out, his voice reedy as he tightened his grip on his spear. 

Aerea found herself somewhat surprised to hear the man speaking High Valyrian instead of one of the many bastardized versions of the language. 

Joro did say that the people here took pride in their connection to the Freehold. Perhaps this is a part of that. 

Joro nudged his horse forward before Steffon could respond. “Travelers from Volantis, merchants, retainers, and a noble party seeking lodging and trade.” 

The guard’s eyes shifted to Steffon and Aerea, lingering on Aerea’s dark silver hair, on the fine cut of her and Steffon’s cloaks, and on the way the others subtly deferred to them. 

There were an interest and hunger in the man’s gaze that unnerved Aerea, and she fought the urge to look away. 

“You will pay the gate tax,” The second guard said, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. “For each head, each horse, and each wagon.” 

While he was not fluent, Steffon had learned enough of the enough of the language from his Targaryen cousins to know what the guard was saying and did not argue. He reached into his saddlebag and withdrew a small pouch, tossing it toward the man with practiced ease. 

The guard caught it, weighing it in his palm before giving a satisfied grunt. He looked up at the top of the walls, calling out to those above them. “Open the gates!” 

As they rode past, the people of Mantarys watched them, some barely glancing at them before quickly turning away, and others staring at them intently, taking in the newcomers and committing their faces to memory. 

Aerea shifted slightly in her saddle, her fingers brushing unconsciously against the hilt of the sword at her side. 

“Do not mind them, princess,” Joro said quietly. “Outsiders are just… uncommon here.” 

Aerea could not help but feel like prey beneath their eyes, as if her value was being quickly assessed by them and how best they could exploit that. 

But she admonished herself for thinking about this, knowing that she was judging these people prematurely. And she especially hated how this small bout of paranoia reminded her of her father and his current state, seeing enemies everywhere, no matter how nonexistent. 

Just as Aerea started to think that the rumors about the city were unfounded, she caught sight of a man who walked past them, whose left arm was too long for his body, the limb hanging nearly to his knee. 

“Do not stare,” Joro murmured under his breath as he drew closer to her once more. “They do not take kindly to it.” 

“So, they can look at me like an animal, but I cannot do the same?” Aerea muttered. 

Joro’s lips twitched faintly, but he did not laugh. “You may, but I would advise against it. In Mantarys, it is not wise to draw attention to yourself unless you mean to keep it.” 

Aerea huffed softly but did not respond, forcing her gaze forward as they rode deeper into the city. 

Steffon, however, had gone rigid beside her; his eyes moving constantly, measuring every alleyway, every shadow, his hand never straying far from his weapon. “Let us find lodging quickly, I do not like this place.” 

“Few do,” Joro answered. “But coin speaks here, as it does everywhere else.” 

As they turned down a narrower street, Aerea could see that the city looked far better than the outer walls portrayed. The buildings closer together and more deliberately shaped, their stone smoother than most she had seen, and their windows framed with dark glass and carved bone. Color bled into the streets; vibrant reds, deep greens, and gold covered nearly everything under the blazing sun. 

Vendors lined the streets, speaking out in High Valyrian and other harsher dialects that Aerea did not recognize, their wares spread across low tables, and the air was thick with unfamiliar scents, sharp spices mingling with something metallic and faintly sour. 

The princess could not deny that the city possessed a strange and unsettling beauty, one that seemed to pulse with life and decay in equal measure. 

“Princess,” Steffon said quietly, leaning closer as the caravan slowed once more, “We’ve found an inn. It will suffice for the night.” 

Aerea felt her stomach twist at his words. It had been agreed upon earlier that Steffon, Cassana and the rest of their group would spend only two days in Mantarys before leaving and heading back to Volantis, leaving her behind to begin her search of Blackfyre. 

She had known this moment was coming during the entirety of the journey, but she had been able to push it to the back of her mind until now. 

The caravan came to a halt before the inn, a lavish, rounded structure made of dark stone, its arched doorway draped with heavy red cloth that stirred faintly in the hot air. 

“It will do,” Steffon said, though his tone made it clear he would have preferred anywhere else. 

Servants from within emerged quickly once coin was shown, moving to tend to the horses and unloading the wagons. 

Aerea dismounted slowly, her boots hitting the ground with a dull thud. When they entered the inn, from where she stood, Aerea could see tall, narrow windows lining the upper floors, the tinted glass a deep amber that swallowed the sunlight. 

She turned to watch Joro talking to whom Aerea assumed to be the innkeeper, the two men speaking in low, measured tones barely catching a third of what they were saying. 

When they were finished, Joro returned to her side, offering a small, polite bow of his head. “Our Rooms have been secured, princess. The innkeeper assures us we will not be disturbed.” 

“That’s good,” Aerea muttered, following the guide as Steffon and Cassana trailed behind her. 

The moment that Aerea entered her room, she threw herself onto the bed, burying her face in the pillows. Once again, she found herself thinking about her family, about her friends, and about Westeros, tears quickly spilling from her eyes. 

She tried to muffle the sounds of her sobbing, not wanting the others to hear her, burying her face deeper into her bedding as her body shook. 

~X~

The Next Day 

Cassana watched as Joro walked towards Aerea, holding a small bowl in his hands. 

“What is that?” Aerea asked, her nose scrunching as she looked at the black liquid within the bowl, the smell of which immediately made her want to gag. 

Joro’s lips twitched faintly at her reaction. “It is dye, for one’s hair. While silver hair is far more common here than in Westeros, it’s not common enough to go unnoticed. It will draw attention to you, along with your clothes.” 

Aerea frowned, glancing down at her body. “What’s wrong with my clothes? Or my hair? I have been traveling through Essos for quite some time now and there was no reason to change either.” 

“Yes, but before you were only stopping in certain Free Cities for a short amount of time, and you had the might of Lord Baratheon’s household behind you. Once they leave tomorrow, you will have no such protection.” 

Steffon stepped forward, his expression grim as he placed a hand on Aerea’s shoulder. “Perhaps he is right, Aerea, you cannot afford to stand out here.” 

Aerea’s jaw tightened; the idea of hiding her identity only made her situation feel even more real, sitting like a stone in her chest. All she could think about was how long she would be forced to hide? How long will it be before she forgets what it means to be Aerea Targaryen at all? 

Cassana, noticing the hesitance on Aerea’s face, she moved closer to Aerea, her voice gentle but firm. “Perhaps we can start with your clothes first? We can go out into the city and find something more suitable for you, something that will help you blend in.” 

Aerea did not answer immediately, clenching her fists at her sides as she stared at the bowl in Joro’s hands, the black liquid within it shifting faintly as he adjusted his grip. She then nodded mutely, keeping her head down as she walked past Steffon and Cassana and leaving the room. 

Steffon stared at the door long after it had closed behind Aerea, his jaw tight, and his brow furrowed with worry. “She’s not ready for this.” 

Cassana exhaled softly, her gaze lingering on the same door, silently agreeing with her husband. 

I still cannot fathom what Aerys was thinking? Cassana thought, seeing this entire endeavor as madness. 

“Come,” Cassana muttered, walking to the door. “Let us not waste time.” 

Steffon and Joro glanced at each other before following the woman and eventually finding Aerea waiting for them at the inn’s entrance with six of Steffon’s knights. 

The princess said nothing as Joro began leading them down the road, walking between Steffon and Cassana, her shoulders drawn tight and her gaze fixed ahead. 

The streets of Mantarys were already alive with movement; the morning heat rising in shimmering waves from the stone beneath their feet, the scent of spices, sweat, and something faintly rotten clung to the air just as it did yesterday. 

From the corner of her eye, Aerea caught of a man being carried in an ordinate chair by several chained and gaunt figures, their backs bent unnaturally beneath the weight, their movements disturbingly synchronized. 

Like her fellow Westerosi, Aerea despised the practice of slavery and was disgusted by how prevalent it was in Essos. And this disgust grew as she caught the gaze of one of the slaves, seeing the hollowed out look within them, as if the will to live had been burned away. 

She forced herself to look away just as they stopped before a row of stalls draped in layered fabrics, the deep, rich, and bright colors catching the eye, and each piece lighter and softer than most of the things she would have worn in King’s Landing. 

A merchant stepped forward eagerly, his smile wide as his gaze swept over them, lingering on their fine, foreign clothes and armed guards. 

“Welcome, welcome to shop,” The merchant said in accented and broken Common Tongue having assumed that they were from the West. “How may I help? I have silk from Volantis, linen from Lys, and dyes cloth, never dull and at good price.” 

Cassana stepped in smoothly, returning the smile. “We are travelers. My… niece requires something practical for the road.” 

“For road?” The man asked, a confused expression appearing on his face. 

Joro stepped forward, repeating what Cassana had said in High Valyrian. “She says that she wishes for good, practical clothes made for traveling for her niece here.” 

The merchant’s eyes flicked towards Aerea’s before he nodded and began pulling a few garments from his stall. He laid them out one by one across the low table; loose-fitting tunics in muted browns and deep greens, layered skirts of rough-spun cloth, a travel-worn cloak dyed a dull rust color, and a headscarf. 

“These are good for protecting one from the heat and from dust,” The merchant said as he gestured to the fabrics. “And they do not tear easily.” 

Aerea stared down at the garments in silence; they were nothing like what she had worn before. 

The merchant then began laying down more items, explaining their uses and prices, his voice blending into the noise of the street as he spoke. 

Aerea paid him little mind; her attention remained fixed on the garments and continuing to wallow in her self-pity. 

“Aerea,” Cassana placed her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Are you alright?” 

Aerea blinked, seeing that the clothes had been paid for and that the Baratheons and Joro were now looking at her, waiting for her response. 

“I’m fine,” Aerea said quietly, though her voice lacked conviction. 

Cassana studied her for a moment longer, clearly unconvinced, but she did not press further. Instead, she gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “We should return to the inn.” 

Aerea nodded stiffly, taking the large sack that her new clothes had been placed inside of, into her arms. 

“Aerea, let one of my men carry it,” Steffon said, reaching out to take the bag from her. 

“No.” Aerea replied immediately, tightening her grip on the sack before he could touch it. “I can carry it.” 

Aerea briskly started to walk away, and Steffon’s hand stilled midair, his expression tightening, but he did not argue with her. 

None of this should be... I should be here. Aerea thought, squeezing the bag tighter. She walked faster, putting a bit of distance between herself and the others, still remaining in their line of sight. 

“Gods have you heard about the raiders that have taken control of the Bone Mountains?” Aerea heard someone loudly say, their voice carrying over the clamoring of the street. 

“Taken control?” She heard another scoff, and when she turned in their direction, saw two, finely dressed men standing beneath a crooked archway. “Do you know how large the Bone Mountains are? From what I’ve heard, the raiders only number about fifteen hundred; they are nothing more than a nuisance, especially since Qarth has created a new contract with the Golden Company. With sellswords like that guarding the passes, those raiders will be slaughtered before in less than a few turns of the moon.” 

Aerea slowed down when she heard this; her breath catching as the name of the company settled heavily in her mind. 

They’re in Qarth?! How in the seven hells am I supposed to make my way there? That could take moons on horseback and cost far too much if I go by ship; I may even need to take more than one! 

“Aerea?” The princess barely registered Cassana saying her name, still staring at the two men beneath the archway. 

“Aerea,” Steffon said more firmly now, stepping closer. “What is it?” 

When Steffon and Cassana appeared at her side, the men immediately took notice, staring at the three suspiciously. One of them muttered something about foreigners under his breath before he and the other man walked away, disappearing into the crowd. 

“I think…” Aerea spoke, her voice quiet as she looked at Steffon and Cassana. “I may know where I need to go to begin my search.” 

~X~

“Qarth? Are you sure?” Steffon asked as they looked down at the map before them. 

When they returned to the inn, Aerea wasted no time explaining what she had overheard, her words spilling from her lips. 

“That is what I heard those men in the street say,” Aerea said, pressing her finger against the map where the city was drawn. “It makes sense, would it not match the tales you had heard when we were in Pentos, Tyrosh, Lys, and Volantis?” 

During their time in the four Free Cities, the Lord of Storm’s End had gathered information that he could and discovered that the Golden Company had been spotted traveling the Valyrian roads through the Dothraki Sea for some time, and no one could definitively say for what purpose. 

Cassana frowned. “But whispers are not certain, you would be chasing shadows.” 

I’m already chasing shadows. Aerea thought bitterly, shaking her head. “This is a definitively lead, at least now I have a location that isn’t just the Dothraki Sea.” 

“Have you thought about how you are going to get there?” Steffon asked, seeing that Aerea was not going to change her mind about heading to Qarth. 

Aerea looked up at Steffon pleadingly. “I was hoping that you could take me.” 

Steffon looked at Aerea with guilt and sadness. “I... I cannot do that.” 

“But-” 

“Aerea, your father is expecting Cassana and I to return to Volantis quickly. You remember the missive that he sent, do you not?” 

Aerea could never forget what her father had written in the letter that had reached them in Lys, how much he was expecting of her, how not failure was not an option if she wanted to come back home, and how he had made it clear that the Baratheons delaying returning to Volantis would not be tolerated. 

“If it were my choice, I would see you safely to Qarth myself. I would see you all the way back to Westeros, if I could.” Steffon said. 

“But you cannot,” Aerea whispered.  

“No, I cannot,” he admitted quietly. 

A part of her was angry that appeasing Aerys matter more to Steffon and Cassana than her safety and comfort, but Aerea knew better than most the kind of man that Aerys had become and could not truly fault them for not wanting to defy him. 

“I understand,” Aerea said softly, looking back at the table. 

“But I will make sure that you have enough coin that you will not find yourself stranded or at the mercy of strangers.” 

Aerea swallowed, her throat tight. “Thank you.” 

Aerea then carried her bag and quickly left the Baratheons’ bedroom, needing to be alone as she felt herself starting to break down again. 

Steffon exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair when the door closed while Cassana remained where she stood; her gaze fixed on the door long after Aerea had gone. 

“You do not need to say it, Cassana, I already know,” Steffon told his wife. 

“She is a child, Steffon,” she said quietly, her voice filled with grief. 

Steffon sighed. “I know.” 

Cassana hugged herself. “She is just a few years younger than Robert, only a year younger than Stannis. We would not allow either of them to do this, and yet we are condemning her to fate and for what? For a sword?” 

“I know, Gods help me, I know,” Steffon said louder this time. “I should not leave her here, every instinct I have is telling me this is wrong. But if I did do that, even if Aerys did not turn his anger upon us, he would simply get someone more willing to bring Aerea back here. Would that false hope not be worse for her?” 

Cassana had no answer for that, drawing in a slow breath as she looked away from her husband, feeling ashamed of herself for agreeing. 

Steffon looked down at the map, his eyes drifting towards Qarth as he measured the distance between it and Mantarys. 

Why has Aerys put me in this position? Steffon thought not for the first time. 

~X~

The Next Day 

Aerea watched the Baratheon party and Joro outside of the inn, preparing for their journey back to Volantis. 

Aerea stood a few feet away from the entrance; her hands clasped tightly in front of her, wearing some of her new clothes. Despite their normal texture, the garments felt unfamiliar and uncomfortable against her skin, and she resisted the desire to rip them off her body. 

This morning had come far too quickly for her, having found it nearly impossible to sleep as her fears haunted her every time she closed her eyes. 

The courtyard was alive with movement and final instructions given in low, urgent voices. She sighed when she looked away from two servants saddling some horses, knowing that it would only be a few more minutes before the group would be ready to leave. 

When she looked into the inn's common room, she found the eyes of the innkeeper on her, staring at her with a quiet, appraising intensity that made her feel like she was being measured by him. 

A shiver ran down her spine when the men he was talking to also started staring at her, their gazes lingering for a few moments before they began whispering among themselves again. 

"Princess.” Aerea turned at the sound of Steffon’s voice. 

He stood a few paces away, already dressed for the road, his expression carefully composed. 

“It is time,” he said gently. 

Aerea nodded, her throat becoming dry. 

Cassana approached next, carrying a small leather satchel. “This is for you,” she said, placing it into Aerea’s hands. “There should be enough to last you some time if you are careful.” 

Aerea looked down at it, then back at Cassana. “Thank you.” 

Cassana’s hand rose, hesitating for only a moment before she cupped Aerea’s cheek. “We will see each other again, Aerea, I know we will.” 

Aerea wanted to believe the woman, but she could not find it within herself to do so. Instead of answering, Aerea nodded, and pressing her lips into a thin line. 

Steffon stepped forward, his expression softening despite the tension in his jaw. For a moment, he was unsure of what to do, knowing that no words he could offer would be enough. 

Then, carefully, he rested a hand on her shoulder. “If there is ever a moment where you feel you cannot go on, then you do not. You turn back, there is no shame in surviving, Aerea.” 

Aerea’s breath hitched at that, her composure cracking for just a second. “I don’t think my father would agree.” 

Steffon’s mouth tightened. “Then your father is wrong.” 

For a moment, Aerea said nothing, afraid that if she opened her mouth, the words would not come out the way she wanted them to. “Thank you, for bringing me this far.” 

Steffon stared at Aerea for a moment. “Joro and I spoke to each last night, and I have agreed to pay for his services for an extended period of time. He and his men will be following you on your journey, doing everything in their power to protect you.”

Aerea's eyes widened, shocked by the admission. “B-But m-my father said that I must complete my journey-”

“Then we will simply not tell him,” Steffon said strongly. “He has no eyes this far east. And I… I cannot allow you to do this alone, I would not be able to…”

I would not be able to live with myself if I knew that you died out here alone in this wasteland. Steffon thought, unable to say the words aloud.

Aerea's eyes watered, and she threw herself at her cousin, wrapping her arms as tightly around his thick waist as she could.

Steffon stiffened for a brief moment, but returned the gesture, huffing when his wife joined the joined the hug, feeling her pressing herself against his back.

Cassana reached around Steffon and held Aerea’s face with one hand.

“Be careful,” she whispered. “Trust your instincts… and do not be afraid to walk away from something that feels wrong.”

Aerea nodded against her, reaching to hold Cassana’s sleeve for a brief moment before forcing herself to let go.

Steffon gave her shoulder a final squeeze before letting his hand fall away. Steffon finally turned away from the young princess, calling out orders to his men.

Cassana lingered a heartbeat longer, pulling Aerea into another tight embrace.

Cassana then pulled away, and Aerea was left standing alone as the Baratheon party mounted their horses and entered their carriages, slowly emptying the courtyard.

She watched them until they disappeared from sight; her fingers tightened around the leather satchel Cassana had given her, her nails digging into the worn surface.

For a brief moment, she considered running after them, but she knew that even if she caught up to them, they would stop for her.

No one is coming back for me. Aerea thought to herself, looking at the now empty courtyard, the noise of Mantarys slowly creeping back into focus around her.

“Are you alright, princess?” Joro asked once he and five of his best men were now alone with her.

The Westerosi truly are beings of madness. In what world would it ever be fine to do this to a child, especially one this sheltered? Joro thought, watching Aerea with pity.

“If I want to go home, then I must find that fucking sword and bring it back to father,” she whispered to herself, ignoring Joro as she adjusting the strap of the satchel over her shoulder.

Without another glance toward the road, Aerea turned around and walked back into the inn, trying to steal herself for the journey ahead.

~X~

Hours Later

Aerea found herself running through a thick and wild grassy plain; she did not know where she was and where she was going, but she knew that she had to keep running.

She could hear loud and thunderous howling behind her, could feel the heat of the sun bearing down on her, could see something dashing through the bush, chasing her relentlessly.

“What are you doing, Aerea?!” The girl could hear someone calling out to her, their voice reverberating through her skull in a bellowing rage.

Father? Aerea thought, looking around for any sign of him but finding none.

“Aerea!” Aerys shouted again, this time, sending a sharp jolt through her head.

She tried to answer them, her eyes widening when she found that she could not response, no sound was able to escape her lips.

The howling grew worse, rising into a deafening chorus that seemed to close in around her from every direction.

She refused to turn around, but Aerea could feel something nipping at her heels, nicking the skin of her legs and drawing blood.

“Aerea!” Aerys’ voice roared again, a greater headache following it.

The ground beneath her feet shifted, and hands made from grass and dirt formed, spouting out from the earth and writhing around as they clawed their way free.

Aerea stumbled, one of the hands grabbing her foot and she pulled hard on to the ground. The breath was knocked from her lungs as she tried to scramble back up, but the other hands quickly wrapped themselves around her and pulled her down.

The moment her body touched the ground, the soil and grass quickly turned into fire and began burning her flesh, causing it to blister and redden.

“Aerea,” Aerys’ voice came again in a whisper.

She looked up and saw nothing. The sun and sky had both disappeared, leaving behind only darkness. As she struggled a large shadow loomed over her, shaped like a massive dog before suddenly changing and looking like a man.

Aerea continued to soundlessly scream as the shadow leaned down and tried to reach out and touch her.

Aerea jolted awake with a gasp, her entire body trembling as she shot upright in the narrow bed. Her breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts as her heart pounded violently against her ribs.

It took her a moment to remember where she was, but she was able to calm down as she took in the distant murmur of Mantarys beyond the window and the walls of her room.

It was a dream. It was just a dream. Aerea thought, wiping her sweaty forehead with the back of her hand.

Even as she tried to rationalize it to herself, she could still fear that heat of the flames searing her skin, could still hear Aerys’ voice.

Her eyes snapped toward her door when she heard something hitting the floor loudly outside her bedroom along with the sound of someone cursing while failing to keep quiet.

The door swung open, and she saw Joro rush inside before shutting the door and locking it behind him. He was hastily dressed and had a large bag swung over his shoulder, his darting wildly towards the door as he backed away from it.

“Joro? What are you doing here?” Aerea asked, staring at the man confused.

“Fucking hell! What is wrong with you?! You could have waken her!”

“You worry too much the fucking brat’s asleep, just like everyone else in their rooms. And even if she was not, what is a little girl going to be able to do against the four of us?” Aerea heard someone shout outside the door before Joro could answer her. “This isn’t some difficult or dangerous job that we must worry about failing, Nakaquo.”

“We need to leave, princess. Now,” Joro whispered harshly.

Aerea’s eyes widened as she realized what was happening and as quietly and quickly as she could, threw the blankets off her body and climbed out of the bed.

She rushed to her belongings, forcing her feet into her boots, putting her waist belt over her smock as Joro impatiently waited for her. She grabbing the rest of her things and shoving them into her snapsack before Joro grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the going to the window.

Joro threw it open and he and Aerea climbed onto the ledge just as the door of her bedroom was slowly being opened. The two immediately jumped out of the window, dropping into the courtyard below, the impact flowing through Aerea's legs and nearly knocking her off her feet.

She immediately noticed the Bodies of two of Joro's men, both laying in pools of their own blood, having had their throats slit.

“Ignore them we must run!” Joro yelled, pulling her along.

Pain shot up her ankle, but she did not stop, immediately taking off running.

Behind her, she heard loud and angry shouting.

“She’s fucking gone!”

“She must have went out the window!”

“After her! We can’t let her escape!”

Aerea and Joro made their way to where their horses were being kept, throwing open the stable doors and quickly climbing into their saddles.

“C’mon girl, we have to go,” Aerea said, pressing her heels into the horse’s sides.

The mare surged forward, bursting out of the stable just as two men rounded the corner. One of them shouted, reaching for her, but she was already past them, the wind tearing at her hair as she urged the horse faster.

The narrow streets of Mantarys twisted before her, unfamiliar and suffocating. She did not know where they were going, but made sure to keep pace with her guide, trusting him to know where they should go

“Cut them off!” A voice shouted behind her.

Aerea glanced over her shoulder and saw them giving chase on horses of their own, weaving through the crowds just as they were.

“The Gods cruse you worthless fools!” Joro shouted back.

Think! Think! Aerea’s eyes darted ahead, spotting a narrow alley splitting off from the main road.

“Joro, look!” Aerea yelled, pointing to the alley.

Without hesitation, Joro yanked the reins to the side and Aerea copied him, their horses nearly slipping as they turned sharply, hooves skidding against stone before finding purchase again. They plunged into the alley; the sounds of pursuit faltering for a moment before they heard the kidnappers turning into alley.

Aerea leaned low over the horse’s neck; her breath ragged as she pushed it onward, moving deeper into the maze of the city.

“We’re going to let you get away, princess!” Aerea heard one of the men shout, the group drawing closer.

They know who I am. How long have they been following me? Since I entered the city? Or longer?

As the end of the alley came into view, Aerea saw two men moving barrels into a large cart, using a nearby lantern to illuminate the area.

As she grew closer, the two men noticed Joro and Aerea’s fast approach and tried to tell them to stop, but the two ignored them, pressing their steads to run even faster.

One of the men dropped the barrel he was holding, and he and his partner threw themselves to side just as Joro's horse jumped over the barrels.

When it was Aerea’s turn to jump, she grabbed the lantern when her horse landed, throwing it over her shoulder and at the barrels, the glass shattering as it struck and spilling flames across the wood.

It took only a few seconds for the fire to seep into the barrels, flames roaring to life with a violent rush, the alley erupting. Thick black smoke billowing upward as the fire spread rapidly, devouring everything it touched.

“What the hell?!”

“Back! Back!”

Joro looked at her surprised as they bursting out on to a wider street, the shouts faded with the more distance they put between themselves and their pursuers.

“Where are we going now?” Aerea asked, glancing at the guide.

I can’t stay here; they’ll be scouring the city for me. I won’t be as lucky to escape next time if I try to hide here.

Joro shook his head, saying what Aerea had been thinking. “We cannot stay here, now when they are looking for you and are willing to kill in order to obtain you.”

Joro's words from the day before rang inside her head, and she could see just how right the guide had been about hidden enemies.

Aerea fidgeted in her saddle. “Joro, I’m sorry about-”

“Do not apologize, princess,” Joro sighed, looking older than he was. “They are not the first group of men I have lost and they will not be the last, you must always expect that your death may come when you least expect it and for many reason. That is simply how life here is, so you should not feel guilt over this.”

“Life here is terrible,” Aerea muttered.

Joro chuckled. “And I can say the same of Westeros.”

It took them some time to reach the gates of the city, ignoring the looks thrown their way by the guards due to their appearance and Joro immediately paid the gate fee.

The guards barely spared them a second glance once the coin was in their hands, stepping aside and allowing them to pass without question.

The princess and the Volantenes guide did not slow as they rode through the gates, the moment they crossed beyond the walls of Mantarys, the noise of the city fell away behind them, replaced by the dry whisper of wind over open land.

Only once the city was a distant figure behind her, did Aerea allow herself to relax. Area then slowed the mare to a canter; her breath still uneven as she glanced back toward Mantarys.

She could see smoke curling faintly into the sky above the city walls, guilt settling in her chest at her actions, knowing that even though she only caused the fire to escape, innocent people would suffer because of it.

Aerea winced as pain flared in her ankle, and she shifted carefully in her saddle, forcing herself to ignore it for the time being.

Her eyes lifted toward the horizon, where the land stretched endlessly before her, the wind tugging at her clothes as her horse slowed beneath her, the rhythm of its hooves easing into something steadier.

“What a great fucking start to my journey,” Area muttered to herself, ignoring the looks Joro had given her in response.

Aerea looked at Mantarys one final time before turning away and urging her horse forward, leaving the infamous city behind as she followed Joro.