Chapter 157 The hand on the waist
Unfortunately, Clay was the dragon knight of Galesos during the day, and at night, he tried to ride another dragon but failed.
The little queen bit her red lips and hesitated for a long time, but finally did not let Clay enter her room.
But Clay doesn't care, sooner or later it will be his and he can't run away.
The good news is that Daenerys was finally persuaded by him and gave up the idea of roasting people tomorrow if they disagreed. However, the little queen insisted not to bow to these slave traders.
It doesn't matter. Clay doesn't value these superficial things. Since Daenerys insists, let her do it. Anyway, he has prepared two plans.
If they can negotiate, then Clay might as well play the role of Party A's father who is always willing to spend every penny. If he can't negotiate, well, Clay has prepared a surprise for these guys.
After one night, Clay changed into a toka robe popular in Astapor, which is a status symbol in this city.
The news that the Mother of Dragons was interested in the Unsullied had long been sent to the Good Lords of Astapor. They had not welcomed Daenerys before because they felt that she was a poor person who could not afford much money.
But now, they probably re-evaluated Daenerys's value, so early in the morning, Clay just finished breakfast and chatted with Daenerys about Westeros, and Ser Barristan left in a hurry Come in.
"Your Majesty, Clay..." Barristan looked over the two of them, and after pondering for a long time, he still didn't know what to call Clay. It didn't matter in private, but this person made it clear that his identity was extraordinary.
He was driven away early yesterday. He only knew that Daenerys and Clay had been alone together for a long time. As for what the two did, the old knight had no idea at all and relied on his imagination.
Therefore, he was not sure what to call Clay.
Seemingly understanding Barristan's predicament, Daenerys glanced at Clay, who was looking at him indifferently, and asked directly with a frown:
"Let's just say it, Astan, did the good masters change their minds?"
"Yes, Your Majesty, they invited you to Pride Plaza. Someone told me that they have prepared the most valuable merchandise for you. I hope you like it."
"Isn't that what you said in the original words? How can these slave traders be so polite?"
Clay, who was playing with a small wooden sculpture of a harpy, turned his head when he heard Barristan's answer and asked a strange question.
"Um...yes, I won't say the exact words. Astan believes that these people will pay the price for their arrogance."
"Ah."
Clay smiled, stood up from the chair, and patted the non-existent dust on the robe with purple lace tattoos, which meant that it was of great value.
"Let's go, Daenerys. The master has invited us, so we guests must attend."
Daenerys nodded. This was the purpose of her coming here. However, when she looked at Clay, she suddenly thought of something and her steps slowed down.
"What's wrong?"
"You're just going to follow?"
"if not?"
"Then you... are dressed like this, you can't pretend to be my attendant. I'll find you a pair of armor..."
Seeing Daenerys's hesitant expression, Clay smiled directly. He stretched out a hand towards Daenerys:
"What are you thinking about? You are not my queen."
Daenerys was a little dissatisfied and confused. She didn't know what Clay meant by reaching out to her, so she walked over slowly, and then...
That annoying hand wrapped around her waist!
Glancing at those lavender eyes with complex expressions, Clay lowered his head and whispered in her ear:
"I think it's okay to temporarily play Her Majesty the Queen's husband and aggrieve myself."
…
The sedan swayed and swayed, finally carrying Daenerys, who was grinding her teeth and peeking at her waist from time to time, and Clay, who felt the softness of his palms, to the end of the trip, Pride Square.
The last time Clay came, he only saw the slave auction in a corner of the square. The square was very big, and the center was where they wanted to go.
Under a huge harpy statue was a fountain made of red bricks. Clay didn't like the smell of the water. It had a faint smell of sulfur, which was as restless as the city.
The black Unsullied stood in a neat square formation. Under the scorching sun, each of them was as tall as a javelin without even a trace of shaking.
Clay, who had commanded a large army, only took one look and knew that there were definitely not eight thousand people in front of him. It was not that this place could not accommodate that many people.
Pride Square is very big, and it is no problem for so many people to stand there. In other words, the slave owners also have reservations about themselves. They do not think that they have the financial resources to buy these Unsullied Ones.
Behind the Unsullied military formation, stood a row of well-equipped but mentally poor free folk regiments. Their number was small compared to the Unsullied.
But they are not commodities, they are all locals from Astapor. Of course, there are also mercenaries from other places.
Behind them, there were five chairs, all covered with umbrella-like shades. On the chairs, five people of different shapes were talking to each other, but their eyes were on Clay and the one being called. He looked at Daenerys who was holding his arm.
"Tell the woman of Westeros that she needs to explain who that man is, and that the Great Good One needs to know."
A Valyrian language with an extremely strong accent was caught by Clay's keen hearing. He could probably understand that the trading city-states on the east coast of the strait spoke languages with local accents.
In fact, they are all products of the Valyrian language brought over by the Valyrian Freehold after it conquered them, and mixed with the local dialect.
Clay even felt that Daenerys' Valyrian language was not necessarily pure. After three hundred years of iteration in the environment of Westeros, no matter how word of mouth it was passed down, it would become distorted.
Daenerys didn't hear the slave master's words. She endured the strange touch on her waist and her eyes lingered on the tall harpy statue.
Clay had raised this issue with him yesterday, about the religious issues in this land.
Don't underestimate these magic sticks. To a certain extent, under certain conditions, these magic sticks and their fanatics can become the plus version of the Unsullied, although most of the time they are greedy for life and afraid of death.
Without dealing with these religions, it would be impossible to gain a foothold in Slaver's Bay. Clay couldn't summon that mysterious power to engage in materialism and atheism here, right?
When the two of them walked into the pergola prepared for them, they didn't know they were coming, so they only prepared one chair.
Clay glanced at Daenerys, who was also looking at him.
Is there any need to hesitate at this time? Clay sat down as soon as he could, and then patted his thigh...
Barristan, who was following behind, looked at Daenerys's flushed face and turned wisely towards the slave owners who stretched their necks to watch the excitement.
The old knight used his body to block the two of them, causing the slave owners to curse.
Daenerys' purple eyes stared at Clay. She had not expected this. Now that Clay had sat in, her wisdom told herself that what she needed most now was to calm down.
Even though she felt extremely embarrassed, she knew that she couldn't fall out with Clay in front of these people.
But asking her to stand aside would confirm that Clay's status was higher than hers, which she couldn't accept despite her arrogance.
Then... Daenerys glanced at Clay's thigh without any trace, and then slapped herself hard in her heart. If she sat on it, the image of the queen would be completely ruined.
"stand up……"
The little queen gritted her teeth and said bitterly.
"Why, isn't this chair just for people to sit on?"
Clay looked at Daenerys with innocent eyes that made Daenerys want to hit him.
After admiring Daenerys' bewildered expression enough, the satisfied Clay stood up, stopped teasing her, and whispered:
"Okay, let's get down to business first, those stinking slave traders are here."
Daenerys turned around after hearing this, and sure enough, five of Astapor's largest slave traders came in strides. Obviously, they couldn't see the good show, and their instinct to make money immediately took over their reason.
Clay smiled and found Daenerys's waist with his hands with great skill. Then, a heartbreaking pain spread from the back of his hand into his brain.
Someone was pinching him, and the murderer was looking at him with the same innocent eyes.
Fine……
Clay's face twitched slightly, and he looked straight, pretending that nothing had happened, and led Daenerys towards the slave traders.
"The good Lords want to know your identity."
Standing aside, a girl with bronzed skin, about ten years old, looked at Clay and asked a question in standard common language.
Clay glanced at the little translator, hmm... this is probably Daenerys's later maid, Missandei.
He did not embarrass Missandei and answered her question directly:
"You can recognize me as her husband, but that's not important. What's important is that we are the ones paying."
Missandei looked at Clay with some curiosity. She had never heard that the Dragon Queen had a husband, and judging from the Dragon Queen's performance, she didn't seem to deny it.
Glancing at the hand resting on Daenerys' waist, Missandei withdrew her gaze and honestly translated Clay's words into Astapor-flavored Valyrian.
The good people who got the answer immediately glanced at Kerry. Klay knew that kind of look, tsk, male instinctive jealousy. Klay knew exactly what it meant.
"Tell the woman of Westeros, and her barbarian husband, to look no further. What I sell is meat. Apart from these goods, they will not take away a single brick."
The good master who spoke was quite tall, the tallest among the five people, but his tone was rather annoying to Clay.
Clay's eyes didn't look at these guys. He kept looking at the Unsullied. It can be said that these guys are like being poured out of molds. With the masks on, you can't tell the difference between them. .
"Tell me how they were trained, and I want to know if they are worth a reasonable price."
Clay said to Missandei that of course he understood what these slave traders were saying, but he was happy to play along with Daenerys.
After the little translator completed his work, these people all showed smiles of satisfaction, as long as they could talk business, they liked this kind of thing the most.
"As you wish," the other guy replied, looking at Clay like a fat pig waiting to be slaughtered.
Coincidentally, Clay saw him the same way.
