Several days later, in Meereen.
The blood on the square beneath the Great Pyramid had yet to dry.
The Great Masters' heads lined the steps, stretching from the highest stair all the way to the ground, as though measuring in death the heights they had once occupied.
The faces that had once ruled this city now held only frozen terror and defiance.
Slaves crowded around the square. No one cheered. No one shouted.
They simply stood there, looking at the heads as though watching a dream from which they had yet to wake.
When Daenerys emerged from the pyramid, someone in the crowd was the first to call out that word.
"Mhysa."
The voice was soft, tentative, as though afraid to believe.
Then came a second, a third, a tenth, a hundredth.
The voices spread like ripples, finally swelling into a low roar that echoed over the square.
"Mhysa-Mhysa-Mhysa-"
Daenerys stood at the top of the steps, watching those who had once been bound in chains look up at her, their eyes shining with tears and light.
She said nothing. She simply stood there quietly, letting the tide of voices surround her.
Later that day, Aegon summoned Jorah Mormont to the Council Chamber in the Great Pyramid.
"You will remain in Slaver's Bay." Aegon's tone was level, leaving no room for discussion. "Command the two thousand soldiers transferred from the Narrow Sea Domain, along with the Unsullied-twelve thousand men in all. Deter anyone with ill intentions and maintain order in these lands."
Jorah sank to one knee and bowed his head. "As you command, Your Highness."
He did not ask why he was the one staying, or how long he would remain. He simply accepted the order in silence.
Daenerys stood to one side, watching without speaking.
She knew what