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An hour had passed, and Daenerys never left the twins' side. Doreah assisted her Khaleesi, holding a bowl of water while Daenerys wiped the twins' foreheads with a wet cloth in a desperate attempt to bring down their heat.
However, the twins continued to toss and turn, showing no signs of relief. The eerie chanting from Khal Drogo's tent could still be heard, casting a somber atmosphere over their dwelling.
Daenerys looked exhausted and fully absorbed in caring for her children. The distant singing from Khal Drogo's tent still echoed in the background.
Ser Jorah entered the tent, his eyes filled with worry as he observed the twins. He spoke softly to Daenerys, "You must be tired, Khaleesi. You should rest."
Daenerys, her voice filled with sadness, began to speak, "I must have been cursed...first my husband-and now my children."
However, she was cut off by a loud whimper from Rhaenys, and Daenerys immediately reached out to comfort her.
"Shh...Mama's here..."
Ser Jorah remained silent, deep in thought, as he contemplated their dire situation.
Daenerys then noticed something strange on Rhaenys's arm, as if scales were growing on her delicate skin. She gently touched the scales with a puzzled expression, and Rhaego whimpered in discomfort beside his sister.
Daenerys sighed in desperation, her voice filled with anguish, "This is torture. What have I done to deserve this? I must have committed some grave sin to suffer like this."
"Khaleesi," Doreah called out
She showed Daenerys that the scales were also growing on Rhaego's arm.
Daenerys, now in a state of desperation, turned to Ser Jorah and ordered, "Bring Mirri Maz Durr to me."
Ser Jorah hesitated, reminding her, "Khaleesi, The ritual is not yet done."
Daenerys, unable to bear the suffering of her children any longer, erupted in anger. "Forget about the bloody ritual! My children need a healer-I can't-can't just stand here and watch them suffer-What kind of mother am I if I do nothing?"
Amid the turmoil and confusion, Khal Drogo's bloodriders burst into the tent, their faces contorted with anger and concern. The sudden entrance caused Ser Jorah to instinctively grip his sword from its sheath.
