The Streets of Lys

She saw two major temples, one for a Lyseni love goddess, the naked woman who was depicted on the coins, and the other a temple of R'hllor. There was no obvious library so she would need to seek help if she wanted one.

She saw men and women singing before a great fire in the centre of the room, beseeching R'hllor to protect them from the darkness and keep the darkness at bay. The officials were both male and female and all wore red robes, some decorated with flame insignia. As Rhaena watched, the priest officiating at the ceremony made a motion and the flame turned from orange to purple.

As Rhaena waited, she became aware of a man watching her, a stockier man of swarthy complexion who was somewhat of a contrast to the tall fair Lyseni with their pale skin and hair. This man had relatively short hair that curled wildly, in an artlessly attractive way. His eyes were a deep green, that Rhaena had rarely seen before, and he leaned against the side of a building just watching her and not really trying to keep it a secret.

The man replied in a voice that was deeper that Rhaena would have expected, his Valyrian words flowing musically. Her limited knowledge of High Valyrian allowed her to pick a few words out of the sentence, something about the 'eyes of the moon'.

"You are the Princess of the Westerosi," he added, switching to that tongue stating a fact rather than asking a question. "I am Rafael Lohar, the Magister of the Waves," he added, as if the title would make sense to her, and he bowed deeply, bringing Rhaena's hand to his lips.

"Just so, I do," he said with a slight laugh, bowing a little. "Princesses are not a common sight in Lys, nor are the riders of dragons besides. I confess I have only seen one, but she is enough to put all others to shame," he added with a shameless small wink.

"You have my thanks, Princess, and the thanks of all Lyseni though many do not remember enough to offer it," he added, his voice growing serious. "It is to your ancestor, Aegon Targaryen, that we owe our freedom from Volantis' yoke, and I would be remiss if I did not offer my gratitude on the half of this Daughter."

Rhaena's lessons in history and politics came back to her, she remembered that after the Doom of Valyria a Volantene fleet seized Lys while a Volantene army seize Myr, and for two generations all three cities were ruled from within the Black Walls of Volantis. Rhaena recalled that about a decade before Aegon led his conquest of Westeros, the Triarch of Volantis attempted to annex Tyrosh, which was allied with the city of Pentos and the Westerosi Storm King, Argilac Durrendon. Aegon Targaryen flew forth from Dragonstone on the Balerion the Black Dread, and Myr and Lys rose up in rebellion against Volantis. The war left the Disputed Lands a waste and freed Lys and Myr to declare themselves independent city-states.

She also recalled that citizens of Myr, Lys, and Tyrosh often referred to their cities as the "Daughters of Valyria".

The Magister's eyes widened slightly, but he recovered with a smooth smile, nodding. "It would please me greatly, to be honored so, my Princess," he said. It was not a possessive statement, and after a moment Rhaena realized that he was assuming that Princesses were called 'my Princess' as Ladies were called 'my Lady', in polite company. "I have heard that the Magister of State means to throw a great masquerade at dusk, to honor the greatness of the Goddess, and to celebrate the royal presence of yourself and the Prince Aegon. Do you enjoy such things in your home of Westeros?"

The Magister laughed again lightly, contrasting against his deep voice. "I would not be dreaming of it, my Princess; tardiness is viewed as a grievous insult in Lys and Lyseni men always keep their promises. Perhaps I will be seeing you are the Masquerade, though I am sure you will see me; my mother's blood makes me rather stand out among my countrymen. Like yourself, much of Lys and all of the Magisters boast the blood of Valyria," he said.

He leaned forward, with a somewhat conspiratorial grin, and lowered his voice as if he were sharing a coveted secret. "My mother was being Rhoynish, you see. It is no secret, though if I did not own more ships than the rest of the Magisters combined, they would likely remove seek my removal from the council," he added, with a confident laugh indicating his surety that pigs would fly with dragons before such a thing could be possible.

"It is said that the women of Westeros are far too repressed; I suspect the tone of our parties would be somewhat scandalous to many, though I am sure you will enjoy great attention from the guests," he replied, his eyes running blatantly over her body. "Men will come from all over the city, for a sight of the Dragon Princess."

"I am sure no man or woman who comes with you could ever be disappointed by the experience," the Magister replied suggestively, matching her predatory grin.

"I am certain you have not," Rafael replied with a wink, before also turning his attention to the Red Temple. "Indeed, they believe there are but two gods in all the world; their God of Light and Fire, R'hllor and the Other, who seeks to destroy all the world. It is a queer form of worship to be sure, but the Free Cities offer and allow many forms of worship so long as they cause no harm," he added with a small shrug.

"Indeed there is, my Princess," Rafael replies. He gave her a quick series of directions, based on landmarks that could be seen from where they were standing. "Perhaps twenty minutes on foot from here, though I would hire a litter and the slaves to carry it, so that you may travel in comfort and ease as befits your station," he added with a smile. "They have a grand library, I am told."