Chapter 371 Pregnant

Storm's End.

Samwell and Melisandre stand in front of the fireplace hand in hand.

The fire was raging, and a little bit of ashes flew up, dancing in the air, circling, and finally merged into Samwell's palm.

The big ruby in Melisandre's throat sips the flickering fire in the fireplace, becoming more alluring and bright red.

She reached out and wiped the gemstone, and then quickly pressed it on Samwell's palm.

The pale flame suddenly churned, and then quickly extinguished.

Samwell felt a burning pain in his palm, and when he looked down, he saw that the silver petal had regained its brightness.

"Why didn't they all recover?" he asked.

Melisandre sighed:

"This is the limit of what I can do at present. You are too entangled with the elemental sea, and it is already difficult to completely isolate it."

Samwell rubbed the mark on his palm and asked:

"Then what happens if the last two petals also wither?"

"I don't know." Melisandre said, "You have a certain grasp of witchcraft now. If you don't have the protection of this seal, you may be able to withstand the invasion of the sea of elements, but it is also possible..."

"Assimilated by the sea of elements?"

"Yes."

Samwell was silent for a moment, then asked again:

"Then how can I avoid consuming the sealing power as much as possible?"

"Use as little spiritual power as possible." Melisandre said, "If I'm not wrong, you must have used sorcery power a lot this time when you went to Slaver's Bay, right?"

"That's right, but at that time there was no other way." Samwell sighed helplessly, and then recounted the nagging things he encountered in Slaver's Bay.

Melisandre listened quietly without saying a word.

"How much do you know about the Ghiscari gods?" After speaking, Samwell asked again, "And what is their purpose? And why did I meet Nissa Nissa in the illusion of ruins?"

"Relevant records of the Ghiscari gods have long been destroyed under the flames of the dragon along with the ancient Ghis Empire. Although Slaver Bay still believes in them, the inheritance has been broken, even if the Temple of the Holy Grace The saints also know very little about the gods they believe in."

Paused, Melisandre seemed to hesitate, but continued:

"As for Nissa Nissa, I think your suspicion is correct. Daenerys Targaryen is very likely to be Nissa's reincarnation, so she should bear the fate of being sacrificed."

"I don't believe in fate." Samwell said lightly, "It's just a self-righteous arrangement by a group of guys who call themselves gods, but I refuse to accept any arrangement."

Melisandre's eyes softened, and she said:

"I believe you are in control of your own destiny. And the destiny of humanity."

Samwell felt embarrassed when he heard the words:

"The fate of mankind is too grand, I can't control it, I can only save as many people as I can."

"Then you have to hurry." Melisandre turned her head and stared at the flames jumping in the fireplace, "The sand in the hourglass is passing by quickly, the footsteps of winter are approaching, despair and terror will descend on the Great Wall, you must Get ready as soon as possible."

"I know." Samwell glanced at the flame and asked, "Does the flame tell you how long winter will come?"

Melisandre shook her head: "No."

Samwell was not disappointed, and turned back to the table.

There is a huge horn placed on the table, the red and gold lines flickering on the dark surface, as if breathing.

"This Dragon's Horn, help me research it." Samwell said, "I suspect it is related to R'hllor."

"Okay." Melisandre nodded slightly.

Samwell went out and saw Gavin waiting outside.

"What's up?"

"Your Majesty, Sir Allerken Florent begs to see you."

Samwell narrowed his eyes:

"Is he from Dragonstone?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Okay, take him to the living room to sit for a while, I will see him later."

"yes."

Samwell didn't rush to see Sir Aleken, but went to the pier first.

The Storm's End fleet is about to set sail today, escorting a batch of food to Dorne.

The commander of this fleet is Sir Lucas Dayne, the earliest knight who served Samwell with experience in sailing. Although he is not a very good fleet commander, he is more loyal and reliable.

More importantly, Samwell couldn't find a better fleet commander. Moreover, this fleet is a new thing, and it adopts a brand-new combat method. The fleet commander of the old era may not be more competent.

Watching dozens of new warships slowly sailing out of the naval port, Samwell couldn't help feeling overwhelmed. He believed that this fleet would give the enemy a big surprise.

"I really want to set sail with them." Daenerys beside her sighed with longing eyes.

Samwell laughed:

"Are you still dreaming of being a captain?"

"No way?"

"Of course." Samwell took her hand, "I have already arranged for you a position in the fleet."

"Really?" Daenerys raised her eyebrows, looking eager to try.

Samwell was about to tease a few more words when he frowned suddenly:

"Why are you so hot? Do you have a fever?"

Daenerys froze for a moment, shook her head and said:

"I don't feel any discomfort."

Samwell touched her forehead and neck again, and found that it was also hot.

He hurriedly took Daenerys back to Storm's End to find Bachelor Qyburn.

"Your Majesty, Queen Daenerys is in good health." Bachelor Qyburn checked and reported, "Except for the high temperature."

"What's the matter with such a high body temperature?"

Bachelor Coben was a little embarrassed: "There may be many reasons for this, and we need to observe it for a while."

"Sam, I feel that my body is better than ever." Daenerys said, "even better than before."

"The bloodline of the Targaryen family is different from ordinary people." Maester Qyburn said thoughtfully.

Hearing this, Daenerys suddenly remembered something:

"By the way, I remember that there was a period of time before that, and my body temperature was also high."

"What time?"

"The last time I was pregnant!" Daenerys exclaimed in surprise, "Sam, I'm afraid I'm pregnant with your child!"

"Really?" Samwell also turned his worries into joy.

Daenerys nodded heavily: "It must be."

As she spoke, she grabbed her husband's hand and pressed it on her flat belly: "We are the blood of the real dragon, a life made of blood and fire. This is the temperature of our child, can you feel it?"

Samwell stroked Daenerys' hot and soft skin, and suddenly felt a throbbing in his heart:

"Felt it, yes, our children."

(end of this chapter)