Deep into the night, quiet tenderness filled the pyramid, while outside, firelight mingled with bloodshed and slaughter.
The sun was already high.
Aegon emerged from the bedchamber and gently pulled the door shut behind him. Daenerys was still asleep, her breathing even, her silver hair spread across the pillow. Aegon did not wake her.
Jorah Mormont had long been waiting at the end of the corridor. When Aegon appeared, he hurried forward and reported the night's upheaval in a lowered voice.
Aegon listened as he walked slowly toward the exit.
When he stepped through the Great Pyramid's main entrance, the sight before him brought him to a halt.
In the distance, several pyramids stood out starkly among the low streets and alleys, engulfed in roaring flames.
Thick smoke billowed upward, dragging savage black streaks across the clear blue sky. Flames licked the stone towers that had stood for thousands of years, staining the entire sky an ominous dark red.
Even from nearly half a city away, faint cries and screams carried on the wind.
It was the chain reaction set off by the destruction of the Pahl family.
In the square, the Black Three-Headed Dragon Banner flew high. Beneath it knelt more than a hundred people-all tightly bound members of the Great Masters' families.
Some hung their heads in despair, some wore terrified expressions, and others still struggled and cursed in vain.
Behind them lay another row-dozens of cold corpses, neatly arranged on the ground. These were Great Masters who had refused to submit and resisted to the last, dragged here after guards and slaves killed them on the spot.
Overnight.
In just one night.
Aegon stood on the steps, his face expressionless as his gaze swept over the kneeling figures and the bodies lying in the square.
Behind him,