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- Джордж Мартин
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Reclining
on
cool
satin
cushions
,
Xaro
Xhoan
Daxos
poured
ruby
-
red
wine
into
matched
goblets
of
jade
and
gold
,
his
hands
sure
and
steady
despite
the
sway
of
the
palanquin
.
"
I
see
a
deep
sadness
written
upon
your
face
,
my
light
of
love
.
"
He
offered
her
a
goblet
.
"
Could
it
be
the
sadness
of
a
lost
dream
?
"
"
A
dream
delayed
,
no
more
.
"
Dany
’
s
tight
silver
collar
was
chafing
against
her
throat
.
She
unfastened
it
and
flung
it
aside
.
The
collar
was
set
with
an
enchanted
amethyst
that
Xaro
swore
would
ward
her
against
all
poisons
.
The
Pureborn
were
notorious
for
offering
poisoned
wine
to
those
they
thought
dangerous
,
but
they
had
not
given
Dany
so
much
as
a
cup
of
water
.
They
never
saw
me
for
a
queen
,
she
thought
bitterly
.
I
was
only
an
afternoon
’
s
amusement
,
a
horse
girl
with
a
curious
pet
.
Rhaegal
hissed
and
dug
sharp
black
claws
into
her
bare
shoulder
as
Dany
stretched
out
a
hand
for
the
wine
.
Wincing
,
she
shifted
him
to
her
other
shoulder
,
where
he
could
claw
her
gown
instead
of
her
skin
.
She
was
garbed
after
the
Qartheen
fashion
.
Xaro
had
warned
her
that
the
Enthroned
would
never
listen
to
a
Dothraki
,
so
she
had
taken
care
to
go
before
them
in
flowing
green
samite
with
one
breast
bared
,
silvered
sandals
on
her
feet
,
with
a
belt
of
black
-
and
-
white
pearls
about
her
waist
.
For
all
the
help
they
offered
,
I
could
have
gone
naked
.
Perhaps
I
should
have
.
She
drank
deep
.
Descendants
of
the
ancient
kings
and
queens
of
Qarth
,
the
Pureborn
commanded
the
Civic
Guard
and
the
fleet
of
ornate
galleys
that
ruled
the
straits
between
the
seas
.
Daenerys
Targaryen
had
wanted
that
fleet
,
or
part
of
it
,
and
some
of
their
soldiers
as
well
.
She
made
the
traditional
sacrifice
in
the
Temple
of
Memory
,
offered
the
traditional
bribe
to
the
Keeper
of
the
Long
List
,
sent
the
traditional
persimmon
to
the
Opener
of
the
Door
,
and
finally
received
the
traditional
blue
silk
slippers
summoning
her
to
the
Hall
of
a
Thousand
Thrones
.
The
Pureborn
heard
her
pleas
from
the
great
wooden
seats
of
their
ancestors
,
rising
in
curved
tiers
from
a
marble
floor
to
a
high
-
domed
ceiling
painted
with
scenes
of
Qarth
’
s
vanished
glory
.
The
chairs
were
immense
,
fantastically
carved
,
bright
with
goldwork
and
studded
with
amber
,
onyx
,
lapis
,
and
jade
,
each
one
different
from
all
the
others
,
and
each
striving
to
be
the
most
fabulous
.
Yet
the
men
who
sat
in
them
seemed
so
listless
and
world
-
weary
that
they
might
have
been
asleep
.
They
listened
,
but
they
did
not
hear
,
or
care
,
she
thought
.
They
are
Milk
Men
indeed
.
They
never
meant
to
help
me
.
They
came
because
they
were
curious
.
They
came
because
they
were
bored
,
and
the
dragon
on
my
shoulder
interested
them
more
than
I
did
.
"
Tell
me
the
words
of
the
Pureborn
,
"
prompted
Xaro
Xhoan
Daxos
.
"
Tell
me
what
they
said
to
sadden
the
queen
of
my
heart
.
"
"
They
said
no
.
"
The
wine
tasted
of
pomegranates
and
hot
summer
days
.
"
They
said
it
with
great
courtesy
,
to
be
sure
,
but
under
all
the
lovely
words
,
it
was
still
no
.
"
"
Did
you
flatter
them
?
"
