The lights of the Violet Garden looked especially hazy and suggestive on the streets of Lys late at night.
Viserys all but crashed through the entrance.
The reek of wine, sweat, and the fury burning through him made him resemble a caged beast that had finally found a way out.
Staggering, he grabbed a passing maid dressed in gauze and demanded hoarsely, "That... man in purple! Where is he?!"
The maid shuddered at his bloodshot eyes and twisted expression, then pointed upstairs.
Viserys shoved her aside and stumbled up the thickly carpeted stairs.
His heavy footsteps and ragged breathing echoed down the corridor.
He had forgotten dignity, forgotten caution. Only one thought roared endlessly in his mind: Traitor! Aegon is a traitor! He will pay!
Following his hazy recollection, he shoved open a half-closed door.
The room was dim, lit by only a few oil lamps that gave off a cloying fragrance.
The middle-aged man in purple sat on a low couch draped with soft furs, pouring and drinking his wine alone.
At the sight of Viserys returning in a state of near madness, surprise flashed briefly in his eyes, then gave way to a deeper, almost imperceptible delight.
He did not rise, merely set down his cup and assumed an expression of perfectly measured concern.
"Lord Viserys? What has..."
"Traitor!"
Viserys roared, his voice cracking with drink and agitation.
"Aegon! He betrayed his family! Betrayed House Targaryen! He has forgotten his roots! Forgotten our blood feud!"
"He wants to stay here... to found his own dynasty here! Ha! The Second Targaryen Dynasty? He can dream! I won't let him!"
He lurched up to the table and planted both hands on it, glaring at the middle-aged man so fiercely that his spittle nearly struck the man's face. "I'll make him