radicalducati Chapter 9: Illyrio
Chapter 9: Illyrio
"Seven levels of hell!"
Although I possess wealth, I have lost my health.
Governor Illyrio of Pentos, privately known as a nouveau riche by other governors, was panting heavily as he carefully avoided the puddles on the ground.
"Oh, god above, please let the moonlight shine a little brighter, so I won't get my expensive clothes dirty," thought the governor, who thought that he might be able to rival the king across the strait in terms of physique.
"This is it! Oh my God, a king of a nation living in a place like this! That usurper deserves to go to hell!"
Looking at the dilapidated hut before him, Illyrio's expression constantly reminded his men, who had led him here, of the old man who had given Viserys and his sister bread during the day:
Look, who else can be as loyal to the dragon flag as I am?
For Your Majesty's sake, I've gotten my favorite clothes all dirty!
knock knock knock
Illyrio wiped the sweat from his brow, calmed his disordered breathing, and then stepped forward to knock on His Majesty Viserys's "Royal Palace".
The person inside responded faster than Illyrio had expected, but when the door opened, the longsword pressed against his chest was something the fat merchant hadn't anticipated.
"Oh heavens, Your Majesty Viserys, I think this seems rather unbecoming of a ruler to entertain guests."
It had been many years since he had felt the threat of a sword so close. The governor's face was like a dye spindle, changing constantly, trying his best to let the person in front of him see his fear in the moonlight, and at the same time, his loyalty when he lowered his head.
Before he arrived, he had thoroughly understood the poor king's temperament.
Illyrio thought to himself: "To fool His Majesty is as easy as drinking water."
It's just a matter of being humble; such a simple business is much easier than the backstabbing and intrigue of other governors.
"Who are you? Raise your head."
The silver-haired boy spoke.
His Majesty Viserys sheathed his sword, and the governor, having received permission, raised his head.
His Majesty the King certainly knew who the visitor was—Illyrio—but he had to play dumb. After all, a king who wasn't confused wouldn't be a good king in the eyes of the other party.
"Ah, before I introduce myself to you, please allow me to offer you my loyalty."
With impeccable manners, those unfamiliar with Illyrio would never guess that this ruthless man had once roamed among corpses.
"I am one of the many governors of this beautiful city, a small merchant who has been fortunate enough to acquire some wealth, and also a nobody who is loyal to the former king and willing to lend a helping hand to Your Majesty in times of crisis: Illyrio Mopatis."
"A man loyal to the true king informed me of your reign over Pentos, and I have come here for Your Majesty's cause of restoring the kingdom." Illyrio relinquished the man who had led him there, and then earnestly recounted his loyalty to Viserys.
"Of course, even inside the room, I can smell the rich aroma of bread," Viserys nodded slightly to the gray-haired old baker, his respectable demeanor leaving no room for doubt about his royal status, before fixing his gaze on Illyrio:
"Thank you for your loyalty to the Targaryen family, but I say that when you do someone a favor, you should always hope that they will repay you."
I do not wish you to be one of those idle individuals who mock a fallen king, so please state your desires so that I may believe in your so-called loyalty.
Viserys didn't believe a single word of Illyrio's talk of loyalty. As the saying goes, "He's loyal when you ask him, but he won't listen when you tell him to," which perfectly describes Illyrio.
Moreover, Viserys, who was well aware of the plot, knew that although the other side was using the banner of restoring the Targaryens, the king they were loyal to was not him at all.
They're plotting something with that spider across the strait; there can only be one king, and it's always been that little Aegon.
Regardless of whether Little Aegon is Jon Snow, the son of this fat man, or someone else entirely, he is merely a pawn used by the other side to draw fire.
But how can you say what's on your mind directly out loud? How can you forget to pretend to be confused before you achieve your goal?
From the moment he met Illyrio, their relationship was destined to be one of mutual deception and exploitation.
"Ah, as Your Majesty said, as a merchant, I hope to obtain a position in the Imperial Council after helping Your Majesty restore the country. Of course, I only wish to better serve Your Majesty."
Illyrio tried his best to maintain the gentleness of the group of elders.
But his greasy yellow beard and uneven yellow teeth always made all his performances seem like those of a treacherous minister with ill intentions.
"If you can truly help me restore the Targaryen dynasty, the day I return to King's Landing, kill the usurper, and sit on the Iron Throne will be the day you become my Master of the Treasury."
"You old fox, you're quite the actor. My acting skills are no less than those of an Oscar winner," Viserys mimicked the original owner's arrogant tone. The restoration of the kingdom was still just a pipe dream, yet he began to promise Illyrio official titles.
The last time was when he was a member of the Golden Company, and he was met with ridicule from everyone present, Viserys thought, recalling the original owner's memories.
Although Illyrio's ultimate goal was not a mere treasurer, he still acted flattered, almost to the point of kissing Viserys's ringless hand with his greasy lips to express his loyalty.
"Seven gods bear witness, today is truly the most exciting day of my life! Oh heavens, Your Majesty, to express my respect and gratitude to you, please return with me to my residence."
"There you are, delicious food, fine clothes, and of course, hot water, awaiting you, Your Majesty," Illyrio said respectfully.
"What you have done today will be richly rewarded by me in the future, my Chancellor of the Exchequer." Viserys suppressed his nausea and stared at Illyrio's greasy beard without changing his expression.
"Ah, it's all I should do, Your Majesty."
"My sister, Daenerys, is also in the room, as well as several loyal subjects who have come from across the sea, equally devoted to the true dragon. My treasurer, you don't mind if they stay at your residence for a while, do you?" His Majesty the King smiled as he looked at Illyrio.
The governor's smile froze for a moment. Of course he knew Daenerys, but from where did these "several loyal subjects" come from?
"Of course, Your Majesty, what reason would I have to turn away Her Highness the Princess and righteous men loyal to the true dragon?" Although doubts were swirling in his mind, Illyrio remained calm on the surface.
"They will thank you for your return. Oh, forgive me, Illyrio, my sister always sleeps very soundly, and I really don't want to disturb her. Perhaps I should go to your residence tomorrow to discuss state affairs."
Viserys pretended to have just remembered something, slapping his forehead as he spoke.
"Uh, of course... everything is as you wish, Your Majesty."