Chapter 383: Chapter 384: Bathing Together
The evening sun painted the mountains and forests with a palette of golden hues. A gentle autumn breeze rustled the leaves of the sycamore trees making them sway like golden waves.
Samwell Caesar returned from his hunt, stepping through the golden carpet of fallen leaves and into the estate as the setting sun cast its warm glow over the scene.
Gavin Mander awaited him at the entrance with a group of servants, reporting on the nobles who had arrived throughout the day.
Samwell took a damp towel from a maid to wipe his face. After hearing the report, he asked:
"So, all the Stormland and Reach lords have arrived?"
"Yes, Your Grace, everyone has arrived. Even the Arbor sent a representative—Ser Desmond Redwyne."
"Desmond?" Samwell pondered briefly. "He's Paxter Redwyne's cousin, correct?"
"Yes, Your Grace. He's also married to Lady Denise Hightower, daughter of the Lord of Oldtown. They've come together to offer their congratulations. They're currently meeting with Queen Margaery. Would you like to see them?"
"No need," Samwell waved it off. "Let Margaery handle them for now."
"Understood."
Samwell grabbed a piece of bear paw and strode toward Daenerys's chambers.
As soon as he entered, he saw his wife in the process of disrobing with the help of her maids. Her gown was half-removed, exposing her smooth, fair back.
"Sam, you're back from the hunt," Daenerys greeted him with a smile, her flawless features framed by her flowing silver-gold hair radiating an alluring charm.
"Yeah, brought you some bear paw. It's tender and juicy—try it later."
"Sounds delicious," she replied, her amethyst eyes gleaming mischievously. "I was just about to bathe. Care to join me?"
Samwell didn't need to be asked twice. He gestured for the maids to leave and took over the task of undressing his wife.
Though only newly pregnant, Daenerys's belly was still flat, but her chest had grown noticeably fuller.
"How did your talks with the nobles go today?" Samwell asked as he carefully removed her garments.
"So boring," Daenerys grumbled. "If I'd known entertaining nobles would be this tedious, I would've joined you on the hunt instead."
Samwell laughed heartily.
"It couldn't have been that bad. Who did you meet with?"
"Lord Leyton Hightower of Oldtown, for one. He was all smiles and seemed to know a lot about me. He even mentioned sending people to Qarth to find me but just missed me. Then there was Lord Rowan of Goldengrove, loud-voiced and hard to miss. And Lord Tarth of Evenfall Hall—quite the gentleman, though terribly dull…"
"Was there anyone you actually enjoyed talking to?" Samwell asked, now undressing himself as Daenerys helped.
"Lady Taena of Longtable. She's from Myr, and we got along well. I once fled to Myr with my brother during our exile." Daenerys paused, her tone turning teasing. "She seems quite close to you."
"What makes you say that?"
Daenerys pouted. "Didn't you take her son as a ward?"
Samwell chuckled and tapped her nose.
"A ward? That's a hostage. The Merryweathers joined the Stag Faction's rebellion. I killed Lord Orton and supported Taena's claim, but she had to send her only son to Storm's End as part of the deal."
"Oh, I see." Daenerys seemed thoughtful.
"How do they treat you, the 'Mad King's daughter'?"
"They're curious, but cautious. No one mentions my father outright—especially the Stormland lords." Her lips curled into a pout. "Probably too embarrassed to bring it up."
By now, the two were undressed. Samwell lifted Daenerys and stepped into the warm bath waiting for them.
Mindful of her early pregnancy, he avoided any inappropriate moves and focused on a normal bath.
Still, his body betrayed him, prompting him to search for a distraction.
"Did you bring up the campaign against King's Landing?"
"I did," Daenerys replied. "They all expressed support for reclaiming the capital, agreeing the Iron Throne belongs to the blood of the dragon. But most believe now isn't the right time to act."
"Why not?"
"Winter is coming. The lords are busy stockpiling food for their people and don't want a war to disrupt their efforts."
Samwell nodded, unsurprised.
"I also mentioned the White Walkers…" Daenerys added. "But no one seemed to believe me."
"It's hard to take a thousand-year-old legend seriously."
"How will you convince them?"
"By tempting them with rewards and commanding them with authority," Samwell said confidently. "And if that's not enough, I'll invoke my dragon dreams. As a Targaryen, I can claim the ability to foresee the future in my dreams—it should convince a fair number."
Daenerys nodded thoughtfully, then suddenly remembered something.
"Speaking of dreams, Sam, I had one last night about Viserion."
"Oh?" Samwell knew the golden dragon had fallen into the hands of Euron Greyjoy. "What did you see?"
"I dreamed of black seas and skies. Viserion was bound in thick iron chains, roaring in pain. Then a giant arrow struck him, and molten blood spilled from his wounds, igniting the entire sea…"
Samwell pondered the dream's meaning in silence.
"Sam, is Viserion in danger?" Daenerys asked worriedly.
"Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to him," Samwell reassured her, planting a kiss on her lips. "Once the lords finish mobilizing, we'll take some time to find him."
"Where will we look?"
"The Iron Islands," Samwell said, his eyes cold. "The Stormlands fleet is ready. It's time to challenge the Iron Fleet. If we cripple them, we won't have to worry about naval harassment when we march north."
Daenerys sighed in relief, her tense body relaxing against his chest.
That's when she felt the unmistakable changes in his body.
"Need some help?" Daenerys asked playfully, her hand sliding down beneath the water.
"That might not be good for your health…" Samwell hesitated.
"It's fine," Daenerys said with a mischievous smile.
Without another word, she dipped her head beneath the water.
(End of Chapter)
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