Game of Thrones: Second Son of House Targaryen

Chapter 137: Lingerie Creativity

Feles and his sister Shinelli were true heirs of Valyria, their heritage evident in their silvery-blonde hair and striking blue eyes. At fifteen, Shinelli was naturally nervous when she finally stood before Viserys.

Part of her apprehension stemmed from the stories her brother had told her. Feles had described Viserys as a man who had slain the infamous Bloodbeard—a feat that made him even more fearsome than the pirate himself. She imagined Viserys as a ruthless warrior, possibly even using witchcraft to dispatch hundreds of pirates in a single battle. The image of a cold-blooded killer, one who treated human life as insignificant, had taken root in her mind. So when Feles told her she would be meeting Viserys aboard the ship, Shinelli had been terrified.

But as soon as Viserys appeared before her, all those fears melted away, replaced by a sense of shyness and nervousness.

"My lord, this is Shinelli," Feles introduced her.

"Hello, Shinelli," Viserys greeted her warmly.

"Good afternoon, Lord," she replied, her voice soft and tentative.

Feles was confident in his sister's beauty. In Lys, even the "Prince of Diplomacy" had sent emissaries hoping to make Shinelli his concubine, despite being nearly sixty years old. The man's wealth and influence were overwhelming, and although Feles wanted to refuse, doing so risked social and political exclusion. Fortunately, the old man suffered a stroke before any arrangement could be made, sparing Shinelli from such a fate.

However, over the past two years, Feles had been under constant pressure. Various powerful men expressed interest in Shinelli, and he knew that if he didn’t find a suitable protector soon, his sister might end up as someone’s plaything. After careful consideration, Feles decided that Viserys was the best option—a man who could both help restore the Rogare family and ensure Shinelli’s safety.

To Feles's surprise, though, Viserys seemed uninterested in his sister, focusing instead on asking him pointed questions.

"So you invested heavily in the battle for Dragon's Flame Fortress?" Viserys inquired.

"Yes, my lord," Feles replied. "Winning that battle would have given House Rogare a chance to reclaim our place among the nobility."

"Under any system, military merit is always the quickest path to advancement. So, what’s your plan now?" Viserys pressed.

Feles hesitated, then said, "If I’m fortunate enough to help you form this alliance, I should have a chance." The uncertainty in his voice was clear when he said “should.”

"If you achieve noble status, how long do you think it will take to restore House Rogare to its former glory?"

Feles smiled bitterly. "Honestly, I’ve never considered reaching the heights of my ancestors. To do that, I’d need immense wealth—or even an army."

"What’s your opinion of Windblown?" Viserys asked, his gaze intense.

Feles felt a dryness in his throat as he met Viserys's eyes, recalling the "permanent contract" between Viserys and Lys. With that contract, the Windblown would control nearly half of Lys's defense forces. Feles knew that such power would soon have many people vying for the Windblown's favor.

“You… you want Lys?” Feles stammered, unable to mask his surprise.

“We want Lys,” Viserys confirmed, his voice steady.

Feles hadn’t expected to reach this point so quickly in their first meeting. There hadn’t even been a hint of caution or testing. In Viserys’s eyes, Feles was like a smaller version of his former self, though with greater ambition. The fact that Feles was willing to use his sister as a bargaining chip suggested he had his own agenda. And since they were alone at sea, it was a perfect opportunity to speak candidly.

“I am willing to pledge my loyalty to the Prince!” Feles declared, dropping to one knee and drawing his sword in a gesture of fealty. Shinelli, who had been standing by, was unsure of what was happening, but seeing her brother’s commitment, she quickly lifted her skirt and knelt behind him.

Viserys smiled and reached out to help Feles to his feet. “You have sworn your loyalty to me, and I will help you restore your house,” he promised. Then, turning to Shinelli, he added, “Shinelli, you can rise as well.”

With the formalities over, the conversation turned to the Alchemist’s Guild. Feles explained that the guild, in reality, controlled a vast array of industries, though many members held the title of alchemist without truly practicing the craft. In an era where alchemy had declined, few were interested in continuing its study.

“When we return to Lys, you’ll need to help me recruit some true alchemists and gather alchemical notes and books. I’ll provide the funding,” Viserys instructed.

“Yes, my lord,” Feles agreed, unsurprised by the request. He even suspected that Viserys might be an alchemist himself, given the rumors that he had used alchemy to kill pirates.

Viserys, however, politely declined Feles’s subtle offer of his sister’s company. He felt a sense of camaraderie with Feles, seeing in him a reflection of his own past struggles. He might have been able to take advantage of Shinelli, but he knew he couldn’t betray the trust of her brother.

...

Later that evening, Viserys retired to his suite, the most spacious and luxurious on the ship. It featured not only a bedroom but also a tea room and a servant’s quarters. As he entered the bedroom, he found two bed slaves kneeling by the bed, dressed in gauzy garments, awaiting his arrival.

'Tsk… no creativity,' Viserys thought, considering how uninspired their attire was. He mused that he should introduce new forms of lingerie—bikinis, thongs, and other provocative garments—that could stimulate the senses.

Stockings might be difficult to produce, but Myr was known for its lace, and he could certainly start there. As for the inventor? Feles could serve as the face, providing technical support while Viserys handled production and sales.

Although Viserys had accumulated considerable wealth in Braavos, his funds were not always readily accessible. The dividends from his soap business weren’t enough to support his ambitions, so he needed to find new ways to generate income. And what better way than through legitimate business, rather than plundering? Of course, Tyrosh’s siege had cost the city dearly, and he intended to extract as much as possible from them.

The swan ship proved to be exceptionally fast, especially with favorable winds. It took less than four days to sail from Lys to Dorne. To avoid unnecessary conflict, Viserys ordered the ship to steer clear whenever the Golden Eagle spotted a pirate vessel.

As they approached Dorne, Viserys’s thoughts drifted to the ancient history of Westeros. In the distant past, the ancestors of the present-day Westerosi had crossed a land bridge to reach the continent, which was once connected to Essos. Their arrival brought invasion and slaughter, forcing the original inhabitants, the Children of the Forest, to seek the help of the Greenseers. According to legend, hundreds of Greenseers gathered to sever the land bridge, creating “The Broken Arm” and “The Stepstones.”

This act didn’t halt the decline of the Children of the Forest, who eventually fled beyond the Wall. In another world, Viserys might have dismissed such stories as mere fantasy, but in the world of ice and fire, they stirred his curiosity. Could the Greenseers really have wielded enough power to shatter the earth? And what of the White Walkers, creatures supposedly created by the Greenseers? Were they truly as dangerous as the legends suggested?

These thoughts troubled Viserys. If the Greenseers were so powerful, could the wights they created be more than just skeletal zombies? How could such creatures, seemingly fragile and prone to falling apart, pose a threat to all of humanity? Perhaps they were more formidable than he had imagined.

But the most pressing question of all lingered in his mind: why had the Valyrians, with all their dragons and magic, stopped their expansion at Dragonstone? They had established colonies across the world, dominating for five thousand years. What could have possibly made the Dragonlords feel threatened enough to halt their conquest?