Daenerys smiled faintly and said, "Your concern isn't without reason, but I think people should understand their place."
"What do you mean?" the dwarf asked in confusion.
Daenerys did not explain directly. Instead, she shifted to another topic. "Regarding today's trial, you have all unconsciously overlooked a major issue."
"What have we overlooked?" Tyrion asked.
"Did you notice that in today's grand trial, all the victims were nobles, and not a single commoner?" Daenerys sighed.
"Uh…" The dwarf and Bran were both momentarily stunned.
"Bran, tell me. If looting and pillaging the populace is the standard for a death sentence, how many of the nobles present today would survive?"
Bran remained silent. By that standard, across the Seven Kingdoms, any noble who had ever commanded troops would be guilty of death.
Which of the nobles attending the grand trial was not a great lord commanding vast armies?
And in recent years, Westeros had been in constant turmoil.
Perhaps, aside from Jon, every one of them deserved execution.
A mocking curve appeared at the corner of Daenerys' lips. "If we add the standards of killing innocent commoners at will, violating peasant women, and abusing castle servants, then looking across the whole world, how many nobles could escape without guilt?"
"Nobles have privileges. Otherwise, who would strive so hard to gain titles?" Tyrion muttered.
"Is becoming a god easier than becoming a noble? Or rather, do you think the gap between gods and nobles is greater, or the gap between nobles and commoners?" Daenerys asked again.
The dwarf fell silent.
"People will always be divided into classes because of wealth, titles, and power. It's unavoidable. Even someone as powerful as I am can only strive for fairness and justice, but cannot achieve true fairness and justice.
Or rather, the world itself is unfair. Absolute fairness is, in fact, the greatest unfairness," Daenerys said helplessly.
At this point, Tyrion understood what she meant earlier by "people should understand their place." The Dragon Queen was no longer content with being a noble. She intended to become something above nobles.
Gods are omniscient and omnipotent, just as nobles oppressing commoners is taken for granted.
"You want to become a god?" he still asked.
"It's not about what I want to become. When I kill one god after another, when I repeatedly display divine power, what do you think they will regard me as?"
Tyrion gave a bitter smile. "It seems my worries were unnecessary. You don't need to do anything special. As long as you continue like this, they will all regard you as a god.
No one envies what a god possesses."
Then he shook his head again. "No, not necessarily. There will certainly be people who covet the method of becoming a god. They won't fear you, but they will envy you. Because you were once the same as them, a mortal."
"Then they should work hard at cultivation. Recently, forty-five castles in the Reach have already established elementary magic schools.
Anyone who envies me can enroll in a magic training class. The path to a higher level is open. Can you imagine what the future world will be like?" Daenerys smiled meaningfully.
Tyrion was stunned and murmured, "In the future, unlike the real world, there will be a thriving civilization of gods and magic."
The great raven poured cold water on the idea. "To develop the institutionalized magical civilization the queen envisions, not only must the world's downward decline be halted, it must also be raised several levels."
Daenerys rolled her eyes and waved him off. "It's getting late. Tyrion, you should go back."
"And him?" Tyrion stood up and pointed at the great raven.
"We're exchanging extraordinary knowledge," Daenerys said, her excitement evident.
Now that he had become her subordinate, the Three-Eyed Raven's millions of years of experience and knowledge were naturally hers to access.
"How about I stay as well?" Tyrion asked eagerly. "I'll work hard too. I want to become a demigod."
"You? You're not qualified. Focus on increasing your magical power."
The next morning, the Grand Cathedral of Fairy City.
The tall arched wooden doors, their white paint peeling, were tightly shut. Barristan, Belwas, Gerold Dayne, and Garth stood before the entrance in white cloaks and silver armor as White Knights.
Along the stone-pillared corridor outside, hundreds of nobles and ladies gathered. Some craned their necks to look, some whispered among themselves, and many exchanged strange glances without speaking.
In front of the cathedral stood a pulpit where the High Septon would preach to common folk. It was also surrounded by idle townspeople.
Unlike the nobles, they had no restraint. They pointed at the cathedral doors and spoke loudly.
"Isn't the Dragon Queen able to communicate directly with the Mother? Why does she need fasting and prayer this time?" Jaime asked in confusion.
In a private room on the second floor of a tavern beside the cathedral, Tyrion, Jon, and Jaime were eating seafood hotpot by the window.
Hotpot had not originally existed in Westeros. After the Dragon Queen stayed in Fairy City for some time, it began to spread throughout the city.
Among the common people, the charcoal-heated copper hotpot had even earned the nickname "Dany's Little Stove."
Tyrion scooped a bowl of milky broth and said casually, "The Three-Eyed Raven is no ordinary being. Of course it requires proper ceremony."
After taking a sip, he looked at Jon, who seemed hesitant, and asked curiously, "You invited us here. It can't just be for a meal. If there's something, just say it."
"Well…" Jon looked sincerely at Jaime. "About what happened to Tommen, I want to apologize to you."
"The trial is already over," Jaime said, shaking his head.
"The trial is over, but I still need to personally apologize for Tommen's death." Jon's expression grew complicated. "I don't know what it feels like to lose a son, but when news of my father's death reached Castle Black, I felt as if the sky had collapsed. Everything before my eyes turned black and red.
At that time, I had only one thought. No one could stop me from avenging him."
"I almost lost my head to Commander Mormont because I deserted that very night," he said with a bitter smile.
Jaime put down his fork and sighed. "Jon, you're very sincere, and I should respond with sincerity as well.
I feel regret and relief over Joffrey and Tommen's deaths, but not much sorrow, at least not as much as you felt when you lost your father."
"Uh…" Jon was stunned. "They were your sons, weren't they?"
"They were. But their identity…" Jaime's facial muscles tightened as he spoke with difficulty. "It's not because they were illegitimate, but you know how the world looked at them.
I failed them, yet I had no power to change their circumstances.
Perhaps in the Stranger's realm of death, they have begun a new life. Without others' criticism, they might be happier, at least better than suffering in the mortal world.
Thinking this way, I don't feel much sorrow anymore."
"Tommen might be in heaven, but Joffrey is definitely in hell," Tyrion said with a smile.
Jaime glared at him. "You have a good chance of meeting Joffrey again. When that happens, take good care of him for me."
"Heh…" Tyrion glanced toward the cathedral, a smug smile on his face.
After a moment's hesitation, Jon asked awkwardly, "Jaime, do you have any plans to marry?"
Both Tyrion and Jaime were startled.
"You want an alliance with House Lannister? Who would marry Jaime?" Tyrion frowned.
"Sansa," Jon said awkwardly.
"Seven gods!" Jaime exclaimed. "I understand your intention to repair relations through marriage, but Sansa…"
He looked at his brother. Tyrion's face twisted, almost turning green.
Jon noticed and frowned. "Tyrion and Sansa's marriage has been annulled, and he is now engaged to Princess Arianne."
Jaime shook his head. "Forget it. The relationships among these people are already complicated enough. I don't want to get involved.
Besides, I don't love Sansa. I won't marry someone I don't love."
Jon felt somewhat embarrassed, though he said nothing more. Instead, he reiterated, "House Stark will fully support the reconstruction of Casterly Rock. If one day the people of Casterly Rock go hungry, then the people of Winterfell will be starving as well."
"Thank you." Jaime's expression softened. "If our fathers could have sat down and talked calmly like this, perhaps there wouldn't have been so many tragedies."
"I can't imagine Father sitting down and chatting with Ned," Tyrion said with a chuckle.
Jaime and Jon exchanged awkward looks, then both laughed.
In the afternoon, Saint Daenerys completed her prayers, and the cathedral doors opened. Nobles and commoners alike composed themselves and entered in order, lining up behind the Dragon Queen according to rank.
"How did it go?" Sansa asked nervously, grabbing Jon before entering.
"Jaime refused a marriage without love, but he accepted our goodwill. We've achieved about half our goal," Jon said lightly.
Sansa let out a long sigh of relief. "That's good, that's good."
Deep down, she did not want to marry Jaime, but rationally she knew such a marriage would be the fastest and most direct way to repair relations between their houses, between the North and the Westerlands.
Unlike Cersei, who would struggle fiercely, Sansa was willing to do things against her heart for the sake of her family.
"Are you going in?" she asked.
"I want to see Arya," Jon said.
"Arya definitely won't appear today, but Bran has come."
"Then I won't go in."
After Sansa entered and found her place, the Dragon Queen's prayer ritual had already begun.
It was not complicated, merely kneeling before the statue of the Mother and reciting scripture.
The only thing that attracted attention was today's focus: Bran.
He had come in person.
After making the decision yesterday evening, Little Green, who had been "suppressing bandits" in the Riverlands, had detoured to Winterfell and brought Bran to Fairy City overnight.
"Ah, he's so small, so thin. He's not even an adult, is he?"
"Probably thirteen, no more than fourteen. He's indeed rather frail, completely unlike the fierce and terrifying image of the Three-Eyed Raven."
"By the Mother above, are you trying to get yourself killed, speaking like that here?"
"What's there to fear? This is the cathedral. Even the Three-Eyed Raven has to kneel before the Mother here."
"That's true…"
After seeing Bran in gray leather armor, slender and pale like a young girl, few people had the mind to recite scriptures. Only those at the back of the prayer line dared to whisper.
The great nobles at the front did not dare to be disrespectful, with Saint Daenerys and the Three-Eyed Raven both present.
"Holy Mother, Holy Father, please render judgment. Should this heretic be accepted into the ranks of the White Knights?"
Suddenly, after finishing the prayers, the Dragon Queen's voice rang out, loud and powerful.
In an instant, the hall fell silent.
Buzz!
A white light appeared out of nowhere, and the world was bathed in pure, holy radiance.
"Ah! The Mother, the Mother has descended!" an old monk cried out in tears inside the cathedral.
(End of Chapter)
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