Chapter 60

Inside the narrow cabin, ten scented candles burned atop a sandalwood table, filling the air with fragrance and casting flickering light across the darkness. The gemstones adorning the queen’s fingers, belt, and crown shimmered in the glow. Beauty was a woman’s nature—doubly so for a queen.

If she ever wanted the stars, Drogo might not be able to pluck them, but he would carve them into his soul for her.

To him, the alluring Quaithe was a fleeting fantasy—Daenerys was his true love.