The council chamber of the Governor's Palace.
On either side of the long table, Myr's pro-war and pro-peace councilors were locked in a furious argument.
The air was thick with anxiety, fear, and anger they barely managed to sustain.
"Those fleets are sitting right outside, neither attacking nor retreating. What the hell do they want?!"
A young pro-war councilor slammed his hand on the table, his face flushed.
"Are they waiting for us to slip up? For our food to run out? For us to tear ourselves apart first?"
A pro-peace councilor said coldly, "Lord Viserys, where are these reinforcements you promised? Where are the ships from Pentos? Where are the red sails of Volantis?"
Viserys, the temporary military commander who had been so confident on the walls, looked livid at being called out.
He still wore his armor, one hand resting constantly on his sword hilt, as though that could give him more confidence.
"Reinforcements take time!"
Viserys growled, "The messenger to Pentos only left the day before yesterday. As for Volantis... they have to weigh the costs and benefits! But as long as we hold out, until they have no choice but to intervene..."
"Hold out? With what?"
Another pro-peace councilor demanded shrilly, "Did you see how many ships are out there? And that dragon! Haven't any of you heard what happened to the Black Wall in Tyrosh?!"
"A dragon?"
Viserys scoffed, the sound especially grating in the tense chamber. "Who knows whether it's just some sorcerous illusion?"
"Even if it is real, it's nothing but an oversized flying lizard! More than three hundred ballistae will be enough to turn it into a sieve!"
He rose and looked around, raising his voice as though trying to convince himself. "That so-called Dragonlord?"
"An exiled bastard thinks he can frighten