She turned slightly, looking past the dragon's neck at the Lys City-State below.
Even though they had not reached their highest altitude, the entire city looked as tiny as a model on a sand table from above.
She looked up at the lead-gray clouds unfurling overhead, then down at the endless blue sea in the distance.
Meraxes flew so steadily that she even released her grip on the bone spines and spread her arms, savoring the wind flowing between her fingers.
In that moment, she felt a freedom she had never known before.
It was as though every shackle on her body had fallen away, every restraint left behind in the clouds.
She finally understood why Aegon always liked to stay on dragonback and never wanted to come down. She, too, wanted to keep flying like this forever.
She let out a long breath, leaned forward again, and let her gaze wander aimlessly across the sea below.
Suddenly, something on the distant sea caught her eye.
She signaled for Meraxes to fly closer in that direction.
As they drew nearer, Daenerys made out the scene on the water, and her violet eyes abruptly widened.
It was a fleet.
Even from high above, with distance shrinking the ships to tiny shapes, their sheer number... not one or two, but more than a hundred... told her at a glance that this was no merchant convoy.
Nor were those ships built like merchant vessels. They were unmistakably warships.
Her gaze locked onto the banners flying from those ships.
The sea wind whipped fiercely, sending the banners snapping and twisting, but she still recognized the design-
Meanwhile, in Westeros, at Casterly Rock in the Westerlands.
Aegon finally finished reading the last document.
He tossed his quill onto the desk and stretched at length,