"Duels are very dangerous, Viserys," said Old Preston, dressed in the dark brown attire favored by Braavosi nobles.
The superficial humility could not conceal the shrewdness that flashed in his eyes.
Old Preston looked more like a cunning innkeeper than the patriarch of a great family.
However, these top nobles of Braavos were all shrewd old foxes; their mediocrity was merely a protective color.
While the Preston family was not among the three great families, it was at least within Braavos's top ten noble houses, having invested in various industries.
"I once performed the Water Dance in the Moon Pool; I know the dangers involved," Viserys said, looking at Old Preston.
This Old Preston was also a master of instigation.
These words were clearly meant to bind Viserys to the dueling stage.
"Agree to it, agree to it, Little Preston."
"Little Preston, come out and duel!"
The Free Cities were mostly filled with sellswords and swordsmen, so duels were not uncommon to the people.
Jaqo Prestan's face grew increasingly ugly; he was skilled at finding Courtesans, dining and drinking, or managing an insurance business.
But when faced with a battlefield of blood and stench, he dared not show his face.
Moreover, Old Preston had more than just this one son; even if he were truly gone, there would still be someone to take his place as heir.
"Madman, there are truly many madmen among the Targaryens," Jaqo cursed inwardly.
"Since that is the case," Old Preston said, looking at Viserys, "my son Jaqo is not skilled with the sword. Even for a duel, it is permissible for a proxy warrior to fight for his honor. You must know that we have substitute children here."
Substitute children were usually low-born children raised by wealthy families to receive corporal punishment in place of the young master when he made a mistake.
Old Preston no longer wanted to say more. Since enmity had already been established, decisive action was necessary.
This Viserys was aggressive and belligerent, not like an ordinary noble's son, but more like the cruel and dangerous "Rogue Prince" Daemon.
After all, he was a descendant of Aegon the Conqueror, known for their fiery tempers.
The exiled Viserys had capability, ruthlessness, and, more importantly, loyalty. Such a person was also a threat.
And the Preston family had completely offended the exiled Dragon, so they should leave no room for retreat.
"Coward!"
"Coward!"
"Coward Preston!"
"Once there was a coward, called King Preston."
The sailors burst into laughter, especially those from the ice-ocean crab fishing boats.
The surrounding sailors and merchants also joined in with jeers.
The main party wouldn't duel, sending his servant instead.
People preferred to watch nobles fight each other; if they only saw proxy knights, much of the fun was lost.
"Syrio?" Old Preston asked.
"Syrio will not act," Viserys replied.
This was his personal grudge, and he did not want it to extend to Syrio.
Old Preston breathed a sigh of relief. Syrio was the First Sword of the former Sea King, and his reputation preceded him.
In Braavos now, apart from Quilo, the current Sea King's swordsman, few others could contend with him.
Even if the Preston family wanted to find a proxy swordsman now, there was no one who could compare to Syrio.
If Viserys himself fought for his side, the pressure on the Preston family would at least be less.
"Who should I choose?" Old Preston had already begun to ponder candidates.
The Preston family had money and could bribe famous swordsmen.
"The Sea King is here!"
"The Sea King is here!"
A commotion arose in the crowd. The Sea King, aboard a pleasure boat adorned with smiling faces, also arrived along the canal next to the House of Prestan.
Although this pleasure boat was not large, it could be described as magnificent and represented the power of the Braavosi Sea King.
Unexpectedly, the sensation caused by Viserys was great enough that the Sea King himself had arrived at the scene.
Orwyl Ferrego, protected by the Hall of the Sea King guards led by Quilo, also ascended the steps and reached the domed gate of the House of Prestan.
"It's really lively today," Ferrego said with displeasure, "You've caused such a stir that the river is now blocked."
"Please forgive us, Your Grace, Sea King," Old Preston immediately apologized.
In truth, they were all acquaintances; Preston and Angtaryon were very close, but the Sea King was still the Sea King, and the Angtaryon family was more powerful than theirs.
"What exactly are you doing?" Quilo, Orwyl Ferrego's First Sword, demanded angrily, clearly at the Sea King's behest.
This Viserys Targaryen, even in exile, was not well-behaved; he was indeed quite capable of stirring up trouble.
Though talented, he was also a thorough troublemaker.
"My friend Moro died at the hands of Preston family guard Mero, as a threat to me. This was because Little Preston tried to force me to sign an agency contract, and I refused, much like an insurance contract," Viserys calmly replied. "Because of this, I brought a gift and requested a duel with Little Preston."
"Is what he says true?" Orwyl Ferrego asked. Although his voice was not loud, it carried undeniable authority.
Jaqo Prestan blushed. "Your Grace, Sea King, there is a reason for this. I thought the Silver Traveler's songs were good and merely wanted Viserys to attend a banquet, and I did have the desire to sign Viserys, but it was out of appreciation for his talent. As for the Water Dancer, it is true that my subordinate was too heavy-handed."
"Enough," Orwyl Ferrego snorted. "Little Preston, you are not a shrewd insurance broker."
"What should I call you, Silver Traveler, Violet Swordsman, or Viserys? You truly are a troublemaker," Ferrego said, looking at Viserys.
Silver Traveler, Violet Swordsman—no, they were all Viserys.
From today onward, this news would spread incessantly, and Viserys would truly make a name for himself.
"You may call me Viserys," Viserys replied.
Orwyl Ferrego then carefully examined the dead fish head. "Is this your gift, Viserys Targaryen?"
"Yes," Viserys nodded.
"Alright, the farce is over. I suggest you all return to your respective positions," Ferrego suggested.
This kind of matter was a duel between two parties and could not be stopped by authority; he could only offer a suggestion.
"Your Majesty, Sea King, we have already decided on a duel," Viserys said.
"Indeed, this duel also concerns the honor of our Preston family," Old Preston emphasized.
"Very well. Since you are so stubborn, regardless of the outcome of this battle, I shall declare an edict," the Sea King said, touching the ring on his hand. "For fairness, the Preston family may only choose a proxy knight from within their family, and Viserys must do the same."
The Sea King's words thus eliminated the possibility of strong reinforcements for either side.
Because those renowned swordsmen were often independent and not hired guards within a family. As for Viserys, he was not allowed to use Syrio.
For this confrontation, the Sea King had deliberated carefully.
"I will represent myself," Viserys responded.
"Since that is the case, Mero, you will serve as my son's proxy knight," Old Preston said. Mero was in his prime, and though crude, his skill was undeniable.
Mero was a dangerous killer, and he was older and larger than Viserys. Generally, such a person would threaten me not to fight.
The Preston family all believed victory was within reach.
"Then it is decided. The duel will take place seven days from now in the Moon Pool. Seven, I hear, is a sacred number. My swordsman Quilo, along with Syrio, the Black Pearl, Old Preston, and others, will serve as witnesses."
"Gladly. Thank you, Your Grace, Sea King. Seven days from now." Viserys nodded. If it was Mero, then it was manageable.
"Thank you, Your Grace, Sea King," Old Preston replied.
"Silver boy, I hope you don't die as miserably as that Moro," Mero sneered.
"I rather think you will die a very miserable death."
Orwyl Ferrego resolved these troubles with a few words. Since they wanted to fight to the death, he would let them.
He was weary.
After the Sea King's intervention and the scheduling of the contest, people were still left wanting more, anticipating a spectacular clash.
The previously boisterous scene began to quiet down, and the large fish head was taken away by members of the Preston family.
"Let's go," Syrio whispered to Viserys. "Time is short. The Titan's Bastard might hire someone to train. And you, I think you should best observe the ebb and flow of the tide, that kind of beauty."
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