Retrieving everything was an easy task. As he already knew, it would all be hidden, and no one could find or steal it before him. Eros' pendant was a magical artifact that granted absolute control over reproductive abilities, as well as ensuring safe childbirth.
Vlad understood why he had chosen such an artifact. As a vampire, having natural offspring was incredibly difficult—it might take him centuries to achieve it. The pendant solved that problem at its root, making him as fertile as any human.
As for the book of magic, it was a complete compendium on the magic used by Valyria to build its empire. From blood magic to the methods for crafting Valyrian stone—an extremely durable and resilient construction material used to erect their colossal towers. It also contained techniques for taming dragons and hatching their eggs. Though it only covered the basics, the knowledge within that book would give him a considerable advantage. In time, he could delve deeper into each branch of magic.
When he returned to his men, Talan informed him that Illyrio had agreed to a meeting the following day. Vlad smiled, satisfied. Truthfully, with the power he now possessed, Illyrio might even try to arrange a marriage between Daenerys and him. That would grant the heir to the Seven Kingdoms three dragon eggs—and a legitimate reason to kill Viserys.
If the man came even slightly close to the fool portrayed in the original timeline—failing to kiss his ass—he would take it as an offense and do something stupid, like threatening Vlad or Daenerys. That would give Vlad the perfect excuse to crown him with fire and blood.
The next day, Vlad prepared to meet Illyrio. He wore a dark cloak woven with golden threads and black silk clothing with red accents. His appearance was impeccable, exuding refined elegance—something that always stood out in his public appearances. The bloodriders, for their part, had also improved their aesthetics. After receiving "the embrace," each new drop of blood granted them knowledge and perspective. They understood that, more than warriors, they had looked like beggars. Now, though they still wore no armor, their leather garments were finely crafted, adorned with gold and ornamental belts. Their beards were meticulously groomed and decorated, proving they were no longer mere barbarians.
When they arrived at Illyrio's mansion, the place was opulently decorated, as expected. The grand house was filled with marble statues and tapestries depicting historical scenes from Essos. The walls were adorned with rare artifacts from all over the world—from ancient shields to priceless jewels. In the courtyard, a crystal-clear fountain reflected sunlight, casting golden glimmers that illuminated the surrounding figures. It was a reflection of the power and wealth Illyrio had amassed over his lifetime.
Illyrio Mopatis received him in one of his most private chambers, where stone walls and large windows let in light while the fresh Pentoshi air drifted in gently. The man before Vlad was stout, with a protruding belly beneath his lavish robes and a short beard framing his wrinkled face. His gaze was accompanied by a friendly smile.
"Welcome, Khal," Illyrio said, inclining his head slightly, showing more cordiality than Vlad had anticipated. "It is an honor to host the Red Stallion in my humble home."
Vlad smiled politely, his composure unwavering.
"No need for such formality, Illyrio," he replied, his tone relaxed and amicable. "You know well I'm no Dothraki by birth. I won't throw a fit if you don't treat me with reverence." He extended his hand in greeting. "My name is Vlad Drakul. You may simply call me Vlad."
They drank wine as they spoke of Vlad's journey. Illyrio was intrigued by the story Vlad had fabricated for himself: waking up in the Dothraki Sea with a blow to the head and no memories, fending off Dothraki riders who tried to capture him, then challenging their khal and winning his khalasar. Every detail was carefully crafted to make Vlad seem more approachable and less barbaric—a man of power with a believable past.
The conversation continued for hours until Vlad finally broached the subject that truly interested him.
"I've heard you acquired three dragon eggs," Vlad said, his gaze steady on Illyrio. "I want to buy them."
For a moment, Illyrio fell silent, weighing Vlad's words. The air between them grew tense, and Vlad braced for the worst—but after a minute, Illyrio replied calmly:
"Of course. It will sadden me to part with them, but gold will soothe that pain... They are quite expensive, you know?"
"Gold is no issue," Vlad smiled, pleased that negotiations were going smoothly so far.
"Just what I like to hear," Illyrio laughed, his belly jiggling unsettlingly like a sphere of flesh and mirth. "They were brought from very far away. You're welcome to stay with me while we finalize the deal."
Vlad smiled and nodded, pleased with the offer.
"That sounds excellent. I'll just inform my men we'll be staying here a while."
Illyrio, observing Vlad's calm demeanor, added:
"You came to my mansion without guards. Though I appreciate your trust, Essos is not safe. I'll send some Unsullied with you."
Vlad raised an eyebrow, amused by the suggestion.
"Thank you once more," he replied, rising from his seat. With a wave of his hand, he bid Illyrio farewell and headed to his men—now accompanied by a dozen Unsullied sent for their protection.
Vlad spent several days in Illyrio's mansion. More than once, he caught himself thinking, "This place really makes me forget all the shit I have to deal with," chuckling to himself as he gazed from the balcony.
The room assigned to him was luxurious. Compared to Dothraki camps, it was like a five-star hotel. Everything was comfortable, every detail oozed wealth and refinement. And though he enjoyed his stay, he knew he couldn't afford to let his guard down.