52.
Illyrio bows low and gestures for Dany to open the chest. Inside, resting on a pile of fine velvets and damasks, are three large eggs: one green, one cream, one black.
She takes one into her hands. The egg shimmers like polished metal. The surface of the shell is covered with tiny scales.
ILLYRIO Dragon’s eggs, from the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai. The ages have turned them to stone, but they will always be beautiful.
Viserys, standing beside Ser Jorah, rolls his eyes.
VISERYS Fakes, of course.
Fake or real, the egg mesmerizes Dany. She rolls it in her hands, letting the light play off the shell.
DAENARYS Thank you, Magister. I owe you everything.
Khal Drogo walks into the crowd. The Dothraki part for him.
Daenerys, confused, tries to hide her anxiety. The Dothraki look back at her. To her, they are an exotic people, but to them she is like a visitor from another planet. They have never seen a girl with silver hair and violet eyes before.
Drogo reemerges from the crowd, leading a splendid young filly, gray as the winter sea.
Everyone waits to see how Dany will react. Hesitantly she reaches out to stroke the horse’s neck, running her fingers through its mane.
Drogo says something in the Dothraki tongue and Illyrio translates.
ILLYRIO Silver for the silver of your hair, the Khal says.
DAENERYS
(murmuring) She’s beautiful.
Drogo steps forward, puts his hands on Dany’s waist, lifts her as easily as if she were a child’s doll, and places her on the filly’s thin saddle.
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