As he moved, the edges of the Dragonkeeper armor's scales glowed red-gold, making the king look like a golden divine giant.
Daenerys, too, possessed an extraordinary beauty, with silver-gold hair and violet eyes.
The Mother of Dragons, Stormborn-she was no longer that little girl wandering in exile, but stood at the forefront of her age.
The king carried the blood of gods: the ancient gods of Valyria, the ancient Storm God, and the Sea God.
"Wherever I am, I miss Myr with its flowers in bloom, bustling, boisterous Tyrosh, and the tranquil Disputed Lands. But for the sake of peace, I must take up arms, with no time to rest." Gendry looked at the crowd. This was a place where he had once fought bloody battles, a place worthy of his deep affection.
Yet as he looked around, the old commander who had nurtured him, Arrow Maker, and the others already lay buried underground.
"Myr will always await your arrival, Your Grace."
"I ask Your Grace to unite this strife-torn continent. Please become our emperor." The representatives of Myr's bankers and the heads of the Artisans' Guild suddenly began to cheer.
Only with the Dragon King's protection, with the old slaver class and the nobles of Volantis and Slaver's Bay utterly crushed, would they feel the greatest sense of security.
With the Storm King's reputation for invincibility and his ever-growing dragons, this was not impossible.
The informants from Pentos felt their vision go dark. News like this would stir people's hearts.
An emperor's first act would surely be expansion. Wouldn't Pentos be the first to bear the brunt?
"Emperor of Westeros and Valyria!"
Gendry badly wanted to shout, "You've really landed me in trouble."
But a tall tree caught the wind; it was better to keep a low profile. This