The bared steel shone a fearful red in the glare from the firepits. "Keep away from me!" Viserys hissed. Sir Jorah backed off a step, and her brother climbed unsteadily to his feet. He waved the sword over his head, the borrowed blade that Magister Illyrio had given him to make him seem more kingly. Dothraki were shrieking at him from all sides, screaming vile curses.
Dany gave a wordless cry of terror. She knew what a drawn sword meant here, even if her brother did not.
Her voice made Viserys turn his head, and he saw her for the first time. "There she is," he said, smiling. He stalked toward her, slashing at the air as if to cut a path through a wall of enemies, though no one tried to bar his way.
The blade...you must not, she begged him. "Please, Viserys. It is forbidden. Put down the sword and come sharemy cushions. There's drink, food...is it the dragon's eggs you want? You can have them, only throw away the sword."
Do as she tells you, fool, Sir Jorah shouted, "before you get us all killed."
Viserys laughed. "They can't kill us. They can't shed blood here in the sacred city...but I can." He laid the point of his sword between Daenerys's breasts and slid it downward, over the curve of her belly.