Chapter 368: The Queen's Cheat Code (Part 2)
She sat with her legs angled to the side in the stone throne at the front of the hall. The heavy, crude seat only served to emphasize her petite elegance. Light filtered through the small round windows high in the thick walls of Dragonstone, cascading down to envelop her, making the young Queen's skin glow like jade and her hair shine like silver. Her face was so magnificent and dazzling that it was nearly impossible to look at directly, as if she were a masterpiece created with the full heart and soul of a creator god... For the first time, Egger felt a profound sense of being at a loss for words—he simply could not find the right phrases to summarize the sight before his eyes.
His pupils dilated, his heart rate instantly accelerated to an extreme pace, and a rush of heat surged to his head... His blood was boiling. Every muscle, every cell, and every strand of his DNA seemed to be screaming at the top of their lungs: This is the perfect mate and the ideal partner for reproduction; you must have her at any cost!
The most beautiful woman in the world—this title, which usually felt as kitschy and nauseatingly cliché as class beauty or school belle, actually contained no exaggeration!
However, after forcibly suppressing his body's visceral reaction and staring at Daenerys for a moment longer, Egger sensed that something was amiss.
In terms of features—in a modern world boasting the four great sorceries of gender reassignment, plastic surgery, makeup, and photo editing—it wasn't as if Egger hadn't seen more flawless faces on screens or in photographs. Setting aside the fakes, the Cersei Lannister Egger had seen would certainly not be any less beautiful than Daenerys if she were ten years younger.
In terms of physique—there was the slender Nina, the curvaceous and provocative Melisandre, Asha Greyjoy with her incredible legs, and even Arya Stark, who, though small and thin, was bursting with vitality and spirit. Some he had shared intimacy with, others he hadn't... but each had their own unique style. It was a matter of preference; one couldn't objectively say who was superior.
In terms of charm—to the south, there was the peerless and fox-like Margaery Tyrell; to the north, the dignified and flower-like Sansa Stark. Even the little princess Myrcella Baratheon, currently a guest at Queenscrown, possessed a fragile temperament that evoked pity in everyone who saw her; coupled with her obedience, perceptiveness, and wit, she would surely grow into an enchantress capable of bewitching any man.
So what about Daenerys?
Relying on the vast wealth of experience and knowledge he had gained from being bombarded by information in the internet age, he suddenly made a subconscious judgment that contradicted his immediate physical sensation: what made his heart race and his hair stand on end wasn't just Daenerys's beauty.
She was indeed beautiful, but not to the extent that she crushed every other woman on earth in every category. While it might be hard to find someone more beautiful, those who were equally beautiful or close to it were not exactly rare. In fact, the audience chamber of Dragonstone was so massive that Egger was currently standing twenty or thirty meters away from her; it was impossible to take in every detail of her appearance at once. The intense physiological reaction he had felt—one his reason could not suppress—was less about being awed by the Dragon Queen's beauty and more akin to sensing a powerful threat to his life—as if he were looking at a tiger that wasn't in a cage.
Daenerys carried an indescribable, unique aura. It held an attraction for the opposite sex, but even more so, it held majesty and pressure. A term more cliché than most beautiful woman surfaced in Egger's mind: The Aura of a Sovereign.
Sovereign auras didn't actually exist—at least, that's what Egger had always believed. He had met a great many Kings, Hands, and Lords—more than he could count on one hand—and had even hoodwinked most of them. He was qualified to have an opinion: what people called aura was actually a composite subjective feeling manufactured through appearance, clothing, expression, speech, and mannerisms... all cleverly coordinated and reinforced within a specific setting.
The Dragon Queen had just returned from across the sea, and Egger was the first prominent figure to visit her of his own volition. If Daenerys intended to put on a performance to intimidate the neutrals or give the Lord Commander—who was known to be close to the North—a taste of her power, it would seem to make sense.
Yet—the Queen was as beautiful as a painting and as soft as water. She wore a red-and-black coat that accentuated her silhouette—looking somewhat like a couple's outfit with the black robes of the Night's Watch. She wore a friendly, slight smile, uttered no threats, and hadn't lined up a squad of soldiers with bared steel to intimidate him. Egger hadn't even seen a dragon in the sky on his way into the castle... There wasn't the slightest intent to give him a display of force, so why did he still feel such intense majesty, to the point that his hair stood on end?
There was only one explanation: this majesty was a real, existing field of mental influence, much like a magical barrier.
This charisma, paired with an indescribable attraction and her undeniable beauty, was like a permanent casting of two powerful mental spells—Charm and Deterrence—upon Daenerys... capable of leaving a profound impression regardless of the observer's aesthetic or strength of will, making her more easily loved and feared than any normal human. Dany's cheat code might not just be a joke among readers and viewers, but a fact! This might stem from her blood of the dragon, or it might be an ability bestowed upon her because she was chosen as the Prince That Was Promised—the beauty and sovereign aura Daenerys possessed were her Cheat Codes!
If this hypothesis were true, everything suddenly made sense: she was a wife bought by a Khal, yet she gradually earned Khal Drogo's heartfelt respect and love. Jorah Mormont was sent to spy on her, but ended up falling uncontrollably in love and being willing to die for her. Daario Naharis was hired to fight her, but ended up killing his fellow captains to bring the Stormcrows to her side. So many wealthy merchants, masters, and local powers in Qarth and Astapor coveted her dragons, yet not a single one dared to seize them by force... These plot points, which seemed illogical and forced—the so-called Protagonist Armor—when viewed through paper or a screen, became perfectly reasonable the moment Egger met the real person!
"Ahem..." A soft female voice interrupted Egger's myriad thoughts. Daenerys, unable to bear the silence, spoke first. "Lord Commander, I have heard much of your name. Is your visit today specifically to swear fealty and support me in destroying the Usurper's family and reclaiming the Seven Kingdoms?"
Egger started, quickly returning to reality from his contemplations. He had never been so rude; the aura Daenerys carried was so powerful that he had stared at her for several seconds without realizing it, almost like a leering fool. Fortunately, perhaps accustomed to being stared at by men, she showed no displeasure; her attitude could even be described as friendly.
"Your Majesty, you joke," Egger said, quickly fixing his expression and casting his gaze downward, no longer looking directly at her. "The Night's Watch is sworn to neutrality, impartial, and never participates in the internal conflicts of the realm. I ask your forgiveness, for I can neither swear fealty nor provide direct support—but I have brought another gift, one I believe Your Majesty will appreciate."
He pulled a flat object wrapped in silk from inside his heavy coat and handed it to Missandei, who had stepped forward quickly. She then passed it to Daenerys on the throne.
The Queen took it and peeled back a corner of the silk, discovering it was a thin booklet. The material was strange and unique, something she had never seen before—it must be the rumored plant-fiber paper. That wasn't unusual, but on the exposed portion of the cover was a single, large handwritten word that looked very fresh: "King."
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