"But if they have dragons," Qhuro said. "Dragons grow quickly. In five or ten years..."
"Hmph," Ferego said. "We feared neither the Conqueror's magic dragons nor the Arbitrator's, much less little dragons. As long as they leave us alone, that will be good for everyone. If a long winter comes, that boy will have his hands full. I hope he knows I love peace, and I hope he understands."
"Yes." Qhuro nodded. "I understand, Your Majesty."
"As for attending in Westeros," Ferego said.
"I cannot leave you." Qhuro looked at the Sealord. "I must keep watch over everything."
"Your apprentices are more than capable of handling a crisis."
"But the Faceless Men?"
"Our ancestors laid down a rule: the Faceless Men must not intervene in Braavos's power struggles. Though every Sealord has feared this power and treated it cautiously, there are precautions against it as well. I am weak and sickly. To everyone in Braavos, I am far more trustworthy than a new Sealord." Ferego smiled.
"Just take the gifts and go. Perhaps you could bring a woman as well. The beautiful Black Pearl is quite interested in this new king of Westeros."
Chapter 344: The many beauties of the Seven Kingdoms
Braavos was a city of secrets, with fog, masks, and whispers everywhere.
Only Braavosi could use the Purple Harbor, from the Drowned Town to the Sealord's Palace; ships from the other Free Cities and the rest of the world used Ragpicker's Wharf. Compared with the Purple Harbor, it was shabbier, rougher, dirtier, and noisier. Sailors and merchants from every land crowded the docks and streets, entertaining others and seeking prey.
Myrcella liked Ragpicker's Wharf in Braavos best. Here, she might hear the Westerosi accents she loved.
"There are no trees here," Myrcella said sadly. The southern shore of