The days had progressed as they oft tended to despite the newest addition to her household. How long had the woman-knight kept beneath her roof? Daenerys had long lost count thought it was not to say this was a bad thing, for the queen had come to fully enjoy the company of the one which she knew by the name of Arturia Pendragon— though others came to call her by that of Saber. While her days did not differ when in regards to the crown, outside of the courtroom she found greater solace than she once had before the arrival of the Servant; she came to be one of the queen’s closest, a rare friend in a sea of great uncertainty.
This day was as the previous, sitting upon a simple bench of ebony as she listened to the plights of the people, resolving them as best as her judgement would allow if a resolution could be found. On this day, however, the number of audiences had been much smaller than those of the days prior— and while one or two had stayed well over a couple of minutes Dany had, regardless, ended her day at court much earlier.
Her ascent to the upper floor, was as always, gradual for the garment known to those of the region was a flimsy thing. The tokar was what the people of Slaver’s Bay would call it, though in private Daenerys had dubbed them “the floppy ears”. A loose fitting sheet that was wound about the body, the remaining bit tossed over one shoulder.
Wound too tight and it made movement near impossible, too loose and it would come to tangle, and bind, and one would surely find themselves tumbling down a set of stairs. Despite her handmaiden having gotten the trick of it all, the queen’s steps were yet measured as she made her way up and down the stairs. The last thing she needed was to fall head first against the marble flooring. Having finally reached the first floor, she had imagined to find the Servant lounging about her private apartments, or perhaps the terrace garden, though to the Targaryen’s surprise she could be seen standing at the very end of the hall—
—in front of a specific door, to be exact, which most stayed far away from without the permission of the queen herself. A swallow would be but allowed as for a moment Dany stood in silence, silvern crown coming to an inclination as she but observed. But through the bricks and the door and the darkness which would come to be found beyond it, she could hear them. Could they hear her? When was the last time she had taken a moment to visit them, personally? Each day a soldier would report to her, the conditions in which they were in, the amount of cattle they would devour a day. Only when anger would take to them and they would spit their flames would none approach, for the gated doors that would be found beyond this one, deeper into the pyramid, would burn bright for days.
Perhaps they missed her, just as much as she them.
”Curious?” the Targaryen found herself calling, having known the Servant to have been aware of her presence.
