Capítulo 85: Cherazza 1
286AC
Cherazza Zo Sharna wrapped her Tokar around her body as she departed from the bath, the scent of sweet-flower perfume clinging to her skin and hair even as the slaves fanned the air around her to drive off the heat of the evening. It was a beautiful thing, befitting of her status as the daughter of one of the Wise Masters, albeit her father was currently the least of them, having lost much of his power with the failure of a particularly expensive voyage to Sothoryos.
It was a thin and elegant thing of Golden silk, taken all the way from Yi-Ti. The fringes we mere trimmed with a fine velvet string, which turned in and out of the garment, and dangled down at the ends. It was suited well to the silver bangles she wore on her wrists, and the thin cloth left her with a deliberately chosen air of mystique.
Her evening bath over with, she reveled in the feeling of cleanliness, though she knew it would pass away in only an hour or so with the sweat which even the nights in Yunkai caused.
She stepped down the great stone hallway of her father's pyramid, out of the night and into the torchlight interior, making her way towards the dinner chamber which sat at its center.
She noticed as she walked that the slaves were carrying more food and drink than usual, which meant that her father was likely entertaining guests. It would be Ill-mannered to disturb them if they were already eating, but she still let her curiosity get the better of her.
'It'll be alright if I am tired.'
She entered the room on the balcony, carefully laying herself down on a pillow to look down over the floor below. Her father lay on his side across the table from an older woman wearing an elaborate Red dress, perhaps Volantene in make, with a piece of fabric hanging from her shoulders that looked like a blooming flower, or perhaps a sun, but she could not tell.
Beside the woman, a boy sat shuddering, perhaps a year younger than her. Even from up above she could see that his red rags were torn and frayed and that his purple eyes were blankly staring forward.
'A new Valerian slave for father then?' She wondered half-mindedly. They were worth far more than others, and it would explain why one would be brought to him directly, but she sensed from the tenseness in her father's features that there might be more afoot.
"You expect me to what, babysit your slave for three years? With no prospect for keeping him afterward? What do I gain from this?" Her father's face sat in a frown as if he was being forced to swallow a particularly sour date.
"Come Sceztvar," the old woman's voice sounded cruel, even with her lack of teeth, a tone of power to it that was normally reserved for slaves. She wondered who the woman was that she could speak to her father in such a way. "He is the last of the Targaryens, think of the glory that keeping him will bring you. I care only that he is bodily whole and well-fed at the end of his time here. Not what you do with him." The woman took a sip of the dark wine that filled her cup. "Beat him, break him, parade him around in front of your peers and whore him out to them as well if you want to. Even Scars can be healed with time if necessary." The old woman's eyes seemed to glow with a cruelty she had only ever seen in the faces of the slave-drivers who held the whips before. "Indeed, it would be better if you treated him that way. When else will you be able to so torment a boy who ought to be ruling an entire continent, the last of the Dragonlords who destroyed old Ghis? Your prestige will be enormous."
She could see her father's eyes narrow as he stroked his short purple-dyed beard. "And why is it that you come to me with such a good offer."
For the briefest of moments, she felt as if the blind eyes of the old woman turned upwards, towards her, and she got the feeling that one would experience if trapped in a far-too-small cage with a lion, her blood freezing in her veins as terror rocketed through her spine.
Then it was gone as if it had never been there, to begin with, and the old woman was talking to her father as if nothing had happened. "Because you have the most to gain from this, as does your house. If you had not suffered losses then you would have much less room to grow. To others, I would be giving at best a temporary benefit, but for one who is lower, there are often even greater possibilities in the future."
Her father sat for a long time, as if thinking over all of the possibilities, then nodded. "Fine, I will take your bargain, but know that if you do not come to claim him I will keep him forever."
"Of course" The woman glanced to her side, grabbing hold of the boy's hand and dragging him to his feet. "Come Viserys, come to the side of your new master."
As the boy prince was forced to kneel to the ground before her father, the old woman placed the boy's wrist in his hand, and she could see her father wince at the contact. It was as if he thought the old woman's very being was dripping with poison.
The old woman left, hobbling on her cane, but Cherazza found her eyes instead lingering on the boy. He was a dragon prince then? Of Westeros in the far reaches of the world at that?
She wondered what it would take to reduce a prince of Valyrian blood to such a wretched state, shivering and staring into the distance as if nothing was real.
'I suppose I shall have time to find out.'
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