[ He is too bold. And yet Dany finds herself laughing in delighted surprise, because that much at least is no lie. Drogon takes flight from the pitcher, joining a shriek to the sudden sound. She is newly wed still, but Hizdahr's words are as lukewarm as his lovemaking. There had been a flicker of refreshing anger in his placid gaze when she'd ordered him to release the dwarves from their folly, but otherwise, he was only a useful opportunist, no more. ]

I married the noble Hizdahr for his coin and his friends, [ she points out, ] not his vision. [ One step, and then another, he'd promised her. Together, they would make a new Meereen--and yet, his new Meereen had not carried a shred of her in it. It was his dream, not hers. ] I am a queen, and so I must make concessions, even when my consort is not who I would wish. [ He was better than the Shavepate, at least. Better than Daario, as well, though she wishes it were otherwise.

She reaches over to pat Loki's hand in gratitude, though whether she's more grateful for his honesty or the laugh isn't clear. ] I suppose I must find a way to break my chains. [ My chains, or my people? ] But how can I do that, when I have only just secured peace? I have given up everything, and still the slavers come petitioning for more.