Game of Thrones: King of Magic

Chapter 55

Daenerys Targaryen. Near the Darkwater River.

Khalasar made a stop near the Darkwater River, and Drogo himself left with the main forces to fight another Khal. This happened quite often, as it was part of the Dothraki culture. They would either have a full-fledged battle or a duel to the death between Khals, and the winner would get everything the loser had, such as horses, women, tribute from the cities, and so on.

I was currently in Shiro's math class, but I couldn't concentrate because of my recent insomnia, and my head felt like it was spinning from side to side.

The deadline for the teacher's condition was almost upon us, and there was less than a week left before I had to give my answer. With each new day I asked myself what I wanted and if it was worth it, but each time I came to a standstill weighing one detail or another.

The routine I've grown accustomed to here, becoming a Khaleesi, is not much different from what I roughly expected when I was still traveling with my brother. I was still a Targaryen, and one could say queen of Khalasar, for the duties were the same, except for territories, intrigue, small talk, and the sort of things that went on among the nobility. It was much simpler than that.

Usually the queen only warmed her consort's bed and occasionally kept company at various events, and had a bunch of formalities and other small details to attend to, and I had prepared for that, really. What was happening now, however, I liked. No betrayals or conspiracies, plain and simple, because the Dothraki hated such things, considered them the lot of the weak.

Drogo loved me, really loved me, even if we didn't start out as tenderly as I would have liked. He loved watching me sleep, stroking my hair and just lying beside me, and all of it could not help but awaken in me a sense of neediness, of love and care.

On the other hand, this is not my land, not my home. Different air, different soil, different animals...different people. I am a stranger here, no matter how much time has passed.

I am Daenerys of House Targaryen. The house that took over Westeros with dragon fire and its own blood. All my ancestors and even my brother died for the land across the sea, making it our new home after the fall of Valyria, from which we fled. Lord Solomon spoke of people still living who share my blood, and I am sure they are all there in Westeros.

And yet, only I could bring back the glory of my house. Only I and no one else. I have studied hard for this now, prepared for it since childhood, and was born for it. But I couldn't use Drogo as a tool and give up this life for nothing. It was... wrong.

- "I see, Prince..." Shiro was about to ask me when I started to feel nauseous, and I leaned to the ground, almost throwing up today's breakfast

What's wrong with me? Why did I suddenly feel so sick? Am I... Am I sick with something? But if so, what was it? Did it threaten Drogo, teacher, Shiro and the others, even Fina? And... would it affect the teacher's and Shiro's condition?

- "How are you feeling, princess?" Shiro ran up to me and began to examine me carefully, while Fina, who was standing beside me, watched and thought about something.

- "Not good," I replied, because I had never been able to fool Shiro and my teacher, "Do you know what's wrong with me, Shiro? I'm a little dizzy and a little insomniac."

- "I guess," he said and looked at the calmly guilt-drinking teacher and the stoic Fina, "Am I right?"

- "Yes, she's pregnant," the teacher replied in a measured tone, to which my eyes widened and traveled down to my stomach.

I'm... pregnant?

- "Shouldn't she have noticed it herself?" Shiro asked.

- "The girl was busy with other things, and I'm sure wrote off the symptoms as simple anxiety," said the teacher, "On the other hand, it's our fault. We haven't talked to her about it beyond simple conception."