Whoever had decorated my chamber in the Red Keep clearly hadn't gotten the memo that I was a potentially dangerous foreigner from beyond the known world. The room was opulent—ridiculously so—with tapestries depicting dragons and battles covering the stone walls, a four-poster bed big enough for a small army, and a balcony overlooking the Blackwater Bay.
I'd spent half the night on that balcony, watching the distant shape of the Cannibal circling over the water, keeping our mental connection alive with occasional sarcastic commentary about the unfamiliar stars and the primitive state of human civilization here. The other half I'd spent tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable on a mattress stuffed with feathers and straw—way too soft after years of my own bed back home.
Dawn had just broken when a sharp knock at the door pulled me from a fitful sleep.
"Seriously?" I groaned, rubbing my eyes. "Who invented morning?"
The knocking continued, more insistent this time. I rolled out of bed, still wearing the clothes I'd arrived in—no way was I putting on the ridiculous "nightclothes" they'd left for me, something that looked like a dress with frills.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," I called, stifling a yawn as I padded to the door and pulled it open.
Outside stood a procession of servants led by a middle-aged woman with an austere face and a rigid posture. Behind her were six younger women carrying various items—clothes, a basin of water, towels, and what looked like food.
"Good morning, Master Kurosaki," the woman said with a curtsy that seemed both proper and slightly mechanical. "I am Septa Nysterica, personal attendant to Lady Alicent Hightower. The Lady has instructed me to assist you in preparing for the day. The king has requested your presence at the morning meal."
"Uh, thanks but I can get dressed by myself," I said, running a hand through my hair, which was standing up in even more directions than usual.
The septa's face remained perfectly composed, though her eyes flicked over my rumpled clothing with barely concealed disapproval. "As you wish, but I am instructed to provide you with appropriate attire for court."
She gestured, and two of the servants stepped forward, holding what appeared to be black and dark red garments. Not the frilly nonsense I'd been expecting.
"Lady Alicent thought these might be more to your liking than the traditional court wear," the septa explained. "She noticed your preference for black."
Huh. That was unexpectedly considerate. "Thanks, I guess. Just leave them on the bed. And the food too."
The servants moved past me to set everything down while I stood awkwardly by the door. Their efficiency was intimidating—within moments, they had laid out a complete outfit, arranged the food on a small table by the window, poured water into a basin for washing, and retreated back to the corridor without a word.
"Someone will return for you in one hour," the septa informed me. "Please be ready." With another perfect curtsy, she turned and left, taking most of the servants with her.
One young woman remained, however. She was pretty, with dark hair and eyes, dressed more finely than the servants but not as elaborately as the septa. She gave me a shy smile.
"I am Anna, Master Kurosaki. Lady Alicent assigned me to be your personal attendant during your stay."
"My what now?" I frowned. "Listen, I don't need a babysitter."
Her cheeks colored slightly. "I'm to help you navigate the customs of court, sir. And to ensure you have everything you require."
Right. A spy, in other words. Otto Hightower's eyes and ears, probably.
"Fine," I sighed, not in the mood to argue. "But right now I'd like some privacy to get dressed and eat, if that's okay."
She cursed again. "Of course. I'll wait in the antechamber." She retreated through a smaller door I hadn't noticed before, leading to what must be a servant's waiting area.
Finally alone, I examined the clothes they'd brought. The material was expensive but relatively simple—black breeches, a dark red tunic with minimal embroidery, and a black jerkin made of some kind of supple leather. They'd even included boots that looked like they might actually fit.
As I got dressed, I reached out mentally to the Cannibal. "Morning. How's the bay treating you?"
"POORLY," came the grumpy response. "THESE WATERS ARE OVERFISHED. AND THE SMALLER DRAGONS DISTURB MY HUNTING WITH THEIR INCESSANT CIRCLING."
"Having problems with the locals?" I asked, pulling on the tunic, which was surprisingly comfortable.
"THE YELLOW ONE—SYRAX—ATTEMPTED TO CHALLENGE ME LAST NIGHT." His mental voice carried amusement and disdain. "A BRIEF DEMONSTRATION OF SUPERIORITY WAS REQUIRED."
That didn't sound good. "Please tell me you didn't eat the princess's dragon."
"OF COURSE NOT. I MERELY FORCED HER TO SUBMIT. THE DISPLAY WAS... EDUCATIONAL FOR THE OTHERS."
They got Dragon politics too. Fantastic.
"Try not to start a war while I'm stuck in this castle playing dress-up," I replied, pulling on the boots. "I'm meeting with the king soon. Any insights on how to handle him?"
"VISERYS TARGARYEN IS WEAK, BUT NOT A FOOL," the Cannibal observed. "HE FEARS WHAT HE DOES NOT UNDERSTAND, YET CURIOSITY DRIVES HIM MORE THAN FEAR. USE THAT."
After quickly wolfing down the food they'd brought—fruits, bread, and some kind of cold meat—I splashed water on my face and did my best to tame my hair. The results were... well, it was still orange, but at least I looked somewhat presentable.
I kept Zangetsu propped against the wall near the bed. I'd been told, in no uncertain terms, that bringing weapons to meetings with the king wasn't allowed. That didn't mean I couldn't call my Zanpakutō to me in an instant if needed, but for now, I'd play by their rules.
Anna returned precisely when the hour was up, accompanied by two Kingsguard knights—not Ser Harrold, but younger men with less friendly expressions.
"Master Kurosaki," one of them said stiffly, "we're here to escort you to the king."
The journey through the Red Keep was like walking through a museum. Everywhere I looked there were artifacts, tapestries, and artwork that probably belonged behind glass cases. Servants and courtiers stopped to stare as we passed, some openly gawking, others trying to be subtle about it. By the time we reached our destination, I felt like a zoo exhibit.
The king was not in the throne room this time, but in a smaller, more intimate chamber overlooking gardens. Windows stretched from floor to ceiling, flooding the space with morning light. A large table dominated the center, covered with an assortment of food and drink that would have fed my entire family for a week.
King Viserys sat at the head of the table, looking more relaxed than he had on the Iron Throne, though the shadows under his eyes suggested he hadn't slept well. To his right sat a young woman who could only be Lady Alicent Hightower—beautiful, with dark hair and sharp green eyes that assessed me immediately. Several other people were present, including Princess Rhaenyra, who looked distinctly uncomfortable seated across from Alicent, and Otto Hightower, whose expression suggested he'd just bitten into something sour.
"Ah, our guest arrives," Viserys announced, rising slightly from his seat. "Master Kurosaki, please join us."
I approached and gave an awkward bow, remembering what Rhaenyra had taught me about court etiquette. "Your Grace. Thank you for the invitation."
"I trust you slept well?" the king asked as a servant pulled out a chair for me—directly across from Otto Hightower and, unfortunately, between two Small Council members I hadn't been introduced to yet.
"Well enough," I lied, sitting down. "Thanks for the room. And the clothes."
"The credit for those belongs to Lady Alicent," Viserys said, gesturing to the dark-haired woman. "She has quite the eye for such details."
Alicent Hightower—Otto's daughter, and soon to be Viserys's second wife according to what Rhaenyra had told me yesterday—inclined her head gracefully. "I noticed your preference for functionality over fashion, Master Kurosaki," she said, her voice smooth and controlled. "And it seems I was correct. The garments suit you."
There was something calculating in her gaze that reminded me of Byakuya Kuchiki—perfect manners hiding a razor-sharp mind constantly assessing potential threats.
"Your consideration is appreciated, my lady," I replied, trying to match her formality. Then, because I couldn't help myself, I added, "Though I was worried for a minute when I saw the nightclothes in my room. They looked like something my little sister would wear."
A sound that might have been a quickly suppressed laugh came from Rhaenyra's direction. Otto Hightower's frown deepened, but to my surprise, Alicent's lips curved into a small, genuine smile.
"Court fashions can seem strange to outsiders," she acknowledged. "I'll have more suitable options sent to your chambers."
The older man to my left cleared his throat. "Perhaps we might discuss matters of greater import than fashion? Such as our guest's extraordinary claims about his dragon?"
"Patience, Grand Maester," Viserys said, though he leaned forward with clear interest. "But yes, I am curious. Master Kurosaki, you mentioned yesterday that you can communicate directly with the Cannibal. Might you elaborate on that remarkable ability?"
So we were jumping right into it. Fine by me.
"It's pretty simple, really," I said, helping myself to some bread. "We share a mental connection. I can hear his thoughts, he can hear mine. Right now, he's complaining about the fishing in Blackwater Bay and the other dragons bothering him."
The stunned silence that followed reminded me that this ability was considered impossible here. Even Rhaenyra was looking at me with new wonder.
"You speak as if discussing the weather with a friend," Alicent observed, her voice carefully neutral. "Yet you claim to converse with a creature of legend, one known for its savagery even among dragons."
"It's just normal for me," I said honestly. "Ever since we connected in Valyria."
"Most extraordinary," murmured the Grand Maester. "If true, such an ability would be unprecedented in our records."
"It's true," I said firmly. "And like I said yesterday, I'm willing to prove it anytime."
"Perhaps you shall," Viserys said, tearing a piece of bread. "But first, I would hear more about your homeland, this... Karakura Town. You say it lies beyond the Smoking Sea?"
And so began what felt like an interrogation disguised as breakfast conversation. For the next hour, Viserys and his court questioned me about everything from my homeland to my experiences in Valyria to my "unusual blade" and fighting abilities. I answered carefully, sticking to my story about being from a distant land (true), getting caught in some kind of accident that transported me to Valyria (also true), and forming a bond with the Cannibal who brought me to Westeros seeking knowledge of dimensional magic (simplifying things a bit).
I avoided mention of Soul Society, Hollows, or anything spiritual that would complicate matters further. Instead, I described Karakura Town as a distant city with different customs and more advanced technology, careful not to make it sound too fantastical.
Throughout the meal, I couldn't help noticing the dynamics at play. Viserys seemed genuinely fascinated by me, asking question after question with an almost childlike enthusiasm. Otto Hightower remained suspicious, his eyes narrowing whenever my answers seemed vague. The Grand Maester approached everything from an academic perspective, clearly cataloging information for later study.
But it was the tension between Rhaenyra and Alicent that was most interesting. They barely acknowledged each other directly, yet seemed hyperaware of the other's every movement. When Rhaenyra spoke, Alicent would subtly stiffen. When Alicent made a point, Rhaenyra would find a way to contradict it moments later. Considering Alicent was about to become Rhaenyra's stepmother—despite being only a few years older than the princess—the frosty atmosphere made sense.
"Your experiences in Old Valyria are particularly valuable," Viserys said eventually, after I'd described the ruins and the strange creatures I'd encountered there. "Few who venture there return to tell the tale."
"I was lucky," I admitted. "Without the Cannibal, I wouldn't have survived."
"And yet this fearsome dragon, known for devouring other dragons and killing any who approach, chose to aid you," Otto observed dryly. "Most... convenient."
I was starting to get tired of his suspicion. "I didn't plan any of this. I'm just trying to find a way home." It feels like I'm just repeating everything I say with these people.
"And we shall help you in that endeavor," Viserys declared, silencing Otto with a look. "The knowledge you seek may indeed exist within our libraries. While the Small Council deliberates on this matter, you shall be our honored guest." He turned to Alicent. "My dear, perhaps you might show Master Kurosaki the gardens and the library today? Help him become acquainted with the Red Keep."
I didn't miss the flash of surprise in Alicent's eyes, quickly masked by a practiced smile. "Of course, my king. It would be my pleasure."
Otto Hightower looked like he wanted to object but held his tongue. Rhaenyra, however, had no such restraint.
"Father, perhaps I should accompany them," she suggested. "After all, as heir to the throne, I should be familiar with all matters concerning dragons."
An awkward silence fell over the table. Alicent's smile remained fixed in place, but her eyes had turned to ice. Viserys looked from his daughter to his betrothed, clearly caught in some longstanding conflict that had been brewing since his decision to remarry.
"A splendid idea," he said finally, though his tone suggested it was anything but. "The three of you shall tour the grounds together. A perfect opportunity for... cooperation."
From the expressions on both women's faces, "cooperation" was the last thing on their minds.
As breakfast concluded and everyone began to rise, I caught Rhaenyra's eye. She gave me the smallest of smiles, then glanced at Alicent's rigid back ahead of us and rolled her eyes. It was clear the princess had little enthusiasm about her father's upcoming marriage, which probably explained much of the tension between them.
"I'll meet you at the eastern courtyard shortly," Alicent told me with practiced courtesy. "I have a few matters to attend to first."
Once she was out of earshot, Rhaenyra moved closer. "Be careful," she murmured. "My father's betrothed has many talents, not least of which is extracting information people would rather keep to themselves."
"I've dealt with worse," I replied, though I appreciated the warning.
"I'm sure you have." Her violet eyes studied me with open interest. "Tell me, do all men in your homeland have such unusual hair, or are you special even there?"
I couldn't help but smile at her directness. "It's not common where I'm from either. Got me into plenty of fights growing up."
"I imagine you won most of them," she said, with a glance at where Zangetsu would normally be on my back.
I didn't get to respond. A servant approached to escort us to the courtyard. As we followed the servant through the castle's winding corridors, all I could think of was surviving a day of sightseeing with two women who clearly despised each other, while my dragon played dominance games with theirs outside the city.