You and the child, Sir Jorah said, grim.
No. He cannot have my son. She would not weep, she decided. She would not shiver with fear. The Usurper has woken the dragon now, she told herself... and her eyes went to the dragon's eggs resting in their nest of dark velvet. The shifting lamplight limned their stony scales, and shimmering motes of jade and scarlet and gold swam in the air around them, like courtiers around a king.
Was it madness that seized her then, born of fear? Or some strange wisdom buried in her blood? Dany could not have said. She heard her own voice saying, "Sir Jorah, light the brazier."
Khaleesi? The knight looked at her strangely. "It is so hot. Are you certain?"
She had never been so certain. "Yes. I... I have a chill. Light the brazier."
He bowed. "As you command."
When the coals were afire, Dany sent Sir Jorah from her. She had to be alone to do what she must do. This is madness, she told herself as she lifted the black-and-scarlet egg from the velvet. It will only crack and burn, and it's so beautiful, Sir Jorah will call me a fool if I ruin it, and yet, and yet...
Cradling the egg with both hands, she carried it to the fire and pushed it down amongst the burning coals.