Euron's blue right eye glimmered faintly.
He stretched out his dark red tongue, first licking his deep blue lips, then tenderly licking away the tears from Cersei's soft cheeks.
Leaning close to her ear, he rasped, "Do you know how Renly died?"
Cersei's body trembled. In disbelief, she asked, "You… you know blood magic too?"
"My lips carry magic, can't you feel it?" Euron puckered his mouth playfully.
"It feels… pleasant, but hideous," Cersei said honestly.
Then, she became animated again, chattering excitedly, "Where did you learn your witchcraft? Is it the Valyrian Grand Sorcerer's Meditation Technique?
I heard from Qyburn that Daenerys may have inherited the teachings of the Grand Sorcerers.
You've been to the ruins of Valyria, haven't you? You must know something! Can you teach me?"
Euron gave her a strange smile, stood up from the sunlit couch, and walked into the inner chamber. He bent down and dragged out a crimson-painted wooden trunk from beneath the bed.
He unlocked the bronze clasp with a key and lifted the lid. Instantly, a strong musk scent spread throughout the room.
"Ah ah ah!" Cersei leaned closer to see and her eyes widened in horror. She screamed at the top of her lungs.
"Your Grace, should we enter?" a guard shouted from outside the door.
They hadn't rushed in immediately because the Queen Dowager was always protected by Ser Robert Strong.
"I'm fine… I'm fine," Cersei quickly steadied her breath and replied to the guards.
The guards acknowledged her command and withdrew.
Cersei moved closer to Euron and, pointing at the thing inside the trunk, cursed under her breath, "By the Seven, are you insane? You hid a corpse under our bed!"
The trunk was lined with a thick white blanket, and lying upon it was a skeletal, bald man his arms and legs severed.
"He's not dead. You were curious about who taught me magic, weren't you? He's my teacher in both sorcery and mysticism," Euron said with a grin.
As he spoke, the bald sorcerer's eyes slowly opened, dull and lifeless.
"Ah!" Cersei gasped and covered her mouth, stumbling back in fright.
The man's pale, shriveled cheeks twitched, like air being pumped into a deflated tire.
After a long moment, the sorcerer gathered enough strength to open his blue lips lips identical to Euron's and croaked, "Whatever you want to know, I can tell you. I'll tell you everything. Once I do, please… kill me."
"He's really alive! By the Seven… this thing's been under my bed for one or two months…" Cersei looked at Euron, her eyes filled not with fear, but with utter disgust.
Perhaps all those nights when she screamed in hysteria he had heard them all.
Elegant as Jaime, handsome as Jaime, noble as Jaime… he would never do something so twisted.
Jaime, you bastard, where are you?I deliberately spread the rumor of the Queen Dowager's remarriage over a month ago throughout the Seven Kingdoms, especially the Trident. Didn't you hear?Or did you know but simply not care?
Or perhaps… you truly ran away with that 'Brotherhood Without Banners' knight?
Cersei stared blankly, her thoughts drifting far from the bedchamber to the distant rivers of the Trident, to her missing lover and brother.
Euron, thinking she was stunned speechless, gently pulled her close and whispered by her ear, "Would you like to learn magic? Let him teach you."
Cersei came back to her senses, looked at the mutilated man in the trunk, and asked, "Who are you?"
"I am Pyat Pree, Grand Warlock of Qarth," the blue-lipped man replied weakly.
"The Grand Warlock is the leader among warlocks," Euron explained. "In their ranks, his position is equivalent to a High Septon or Archpriest in the Faith."
Upon hearing this, Cersei's fear turned instantly to excitement.
"So that means he knows all the secret arts of the warlocks?"
Euron's eyes gleamed as he smiled. "My lady, we truly think alike! When I first learned his identity, my first thought was to seize all the secret knowledge of the warlocks for myself."
"There's no such thing as 'thinking alike.' When you find a coin on the road, who wouldn't pocket it?" Cersei shot him a sharp look and asked, "So how did you meet him?"
"Pyat was one of the original 'Dragon Seekers.' He found Daenerys in the Red Waste, but when he tried to seize her dragons, her magic beasts burned down the Warlocks' Sanctum their equivalent of the Great Sept of Baelor.
So he swore vengeance!
To avenge himself, he pursued Daenerys across the sea, but…"
Euron sighed as he continued.
"When Daenerys left Qarth, she claimed she was going to Pentos to find Illyrio, but halfway through, she changed course and went to the ruins of Valyria where she met me."
Cersei thought of the treasure Euron had lost to the Dragon Queen and sneered. "A cursed fate indeed."
"It should've been a great stroke of fortune," Euron said regretfully. "But my greed ruined it."
"After I risked my life to steal the Dragon Horn and dragon eggs from the Great Pyramid, I ran into the returning warlocks from Volantis.
They had learned from the Volantenes where Daenerys had gone.
Heh… luck was on my side. I got five swift ships and a thousand captives from the New Ghis legion and then came across the warlocks' three-masted ship, almost entirely unguarded."
If not for his failure with Daenerys, Euron's adventures across the East would have been straight out of a pulp hero's tale.
"Ah, poor Pyat Pree," Cersei muttered.
Learning that the warlock was Daenerys's mortal enemy made her instantly more sympathetic toward him.
In truth, though his fate was tragic, Pyat Pree was far from innocent.
Back in the Red Waste, in the city of Qarth, the three Dragon Seekers had sworn a sacred oath before the gods to protect Daenerys and her followers with their lives, and never harbor thoughts of harming her.
As for Quaithe mysterious and cryptic as she was she had always given Daenerys sound advice in matters of magic.
For instance, it was she who warned the young queen to bring her dragons when entering the House of the Undying.
Even that stingy man Xaro, who desperately longed for dragons, never once considered stealing or killing Daenerys to seize her hatchlings for himself.
He had always kept his oath and ensured her guest rights remained inviolate.
For that reason, when Xaro traveled to Astapor to negotiate the ransom of war captives, Daenerys treated him with fine wine, good food, and a pleasant face. She had never once thought of harming him.
Of the three who sought dragons, only the great warlock Pyat Pree broke his oath.
He first deceived Daenerys into entering the House of the Undying to let the "Undying Ones" possess her body. When that failed, he sent the Sorrowful Men to assassinate her. Finally, he tore away all pretense and personally led his followers in pursuit.
In this world, oathbreakers always meet retribution.
Pyat Pree's retribution was Euron.
Pyat Pree led his three most powerful warlocks from Qarth, but all four of them only knew how to harm others with curses they were useless when faced with pirates.
When they were first captured, the warlocks still relied on their status and tried to threaten Euron with words.
But who was Crow's Eye?To threaten him?
When Euron killed the one who dared speak rudely to him and smilingly fed that man's flesh to the other three Pyat Pree broke completely.
After being forced to eat his companion, then his own limbs, the great warlock wanted only a quick death. At that point, whatever Euron asked, he answered.
The secrets of the warlocks, the secrets of the House of the Undying he no longer cared about any of it.
"I heard the sorceress beside Stannis is a red priestess," Cersei said doubtfully. "Do warlocks use the Red God's blood magic too?"
"Don't worry," Euron said with a smile. "A warlock's cursecraft is every bit as potent as a shadowbinder's."
It wasn't just empty boasting. Warlocks excelled at using curses to punish those who offended them, while shadowbinders had their own strengths.
"What should I do?" Cersei asked anxiously.
"All you need to do is provide me with some fresh blood. Leave the rest to me," Euron replied.
"Blood? Why do you need my blood?"
"The blood of a close relative, the blood of royal lineage those are the finest mediums for curses. Just like when Stannis killed Renly, the Red Woman surely used his blood."
"Close relative…" Cersei kept murmuring the words.
In that instant, it was as if the dam of memory burst in her mind, and countless images flooded forth.
Was she four years old, or five?Uncle Kevan had put her on his shoulders, pretending to be her knight's steed, galloping around while making clopping sounds with his mouth.
Back then, he still had a thick mane of golden hair that hung to his shoulders warm and soft when she sat atop him.
When she was seven, the daughter of a Lannister port cousin became her handmaiden. That little wretch dared to flirt with Jaime at such a young age, so Cersei cut off her golden hair with scissors and slashed her face. Her father had wanted to whip her, but Uncle Kevan had stopped him and protected her.
At nine, Uncle Kevan had taken her and Jaime hunting. It was the first time she ever fired a crossbow.
At thirteen…
"What is it?"
A man's voice broke through her reverie, and a hand tapped her shoulder. Pulled from the river of memories, Cersei hesitated and asked, "Must we kill him? Can't we just knock him unconscious?"
Euron's eyes flashed as he smiled. "Unconscious? My lady, how adorable. If he's unconscious, won't he wake up again?"
"If he sleeps for ten or twenty years, my reign will be secure. When I was little, my old nurse told me a story a princess cursed by a witch to sleep for years until a prince awakened her," Cersei said earnestly.
"Stories are lies," Euron muttered, twitching his lips.
Cersei shook her head solemnly. "No. I've realized that the nurse's stories have all been coming true these past years dragons, sorceresses, warlocks, white walkers."
"Fine," Euron said irritably, "but your uncle isn't a pure princess. He can't fall into an enchanted sleep."
Cersei suddenly seemed struck by inspiration. Her eyes lit up, and she clasped her hands eagerly. "There's another story a prince cursed by a witch and turned into a frog. Why don't you turn my uncle into a lion?"
"Either you kill him," Euron said, his eyes darkening, voice low and hoarse, "or we sail back to the Iron Islands, bid farewell to the Iron Throne, and pray to the Mother that the Dragon Queen forgets your father's murder of Rhaegar's children and shows mercy to Myrcella and Tommen."
"The Iron Throne… Myrcella… my daughter…" At once, Cersei's eyes reddened, and tears streamed down her face.
"Your uncle is dead. He can no longer serve me," Daenerys said.
"What did you say?"
Tyrion felt dizzy, as if struck on the head. His mind went blank.
"Two nights ago, at midnight, Regent Kevan Lannister was assassinated in the Red Keep by his nephew. His heart was pierced through he died instantly," Daenerys said softly.
"Jaime's gone mad?" Tyrion cried in disbelief.
The Dragon Queen stared at him strangely for a long while before speaking. "I don't know if your brother's mad, but you certainly are.
First you killed your nephew, then your father, and now your uncle. There's no one in this world more cruel than you."
"Two nights ago, Uncle Tyrion was in the Water Gardens. He didn't kill Grandfather," Myrcella said beside them, her eyes red but clear and resolute.
(End of Chapter)
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