Seeing the people crying out for Rhaegar, Tyrion's face grew somber. Although he knew the King was popular among the smallfolk, seeing it in person was a completely different matter. This was terrible news for House Lannister and his allies.
Cersei noticed the demon monkey's expression and asked in a curious tone, "Why are you so surprised? He's handsome; isn't it normal for him to be popular?"
Hearing Cersei's words, Tyrion truly wondered what was going on inside his sister's head. Does being handsome make you popular? There was actually some truth to that, but for a king, actions carry more weight than looks.
"Our father rules the Westerlands through fear, including a good part of the Riverlands; we kill and destroy every rebel village. The foundation of our rule is fear," Tyrion spoke in a calm tone, yet there was a hint of sadness in his voice. "Fear has always been an excellent tool for control, but it has an extremely dangerous drawback."
"As long as House Lannister is strong and doesn't lose, these people will remain silent—full of resentment, but quiet. However, the moment House Lannister loses or even finds itself in a dangerous situation, these people will revolt without a second thought. This means we could face an uprising in every city and village under our control."
Tyrion looked at the people shouting the King's name and spoke with a worried, dark expression. "Do you think we can fight while our logistics lines are being torn apart by revolts? When that happens, we'll be killed, for we'll have no gold, food, or steel to remake our armor and weapons."
"Believe me, the King is not as benevolent and just as these people fervently claim. You, I, and your sons and daughters will be killed when that happens," Tyrion looked at Cersei and spoke calmly. "The more popular the King is, the more disadvantaged we become."
"You're being dramatic; our father has never lost a war. We will always be strong." Unlike Tyrion, who was consumed by worry, Cersei remained quite indifferent, even after Tyrion's words.
House Targaryen, which was supposed to be invincible, is weak. Without our father's intervention, our grandfather would have lost even the Rock to his vassals. No Noble House is eternally strong; there is only the fate that all eventually decline or cease to exist, Tyrion thought with a helpless look.
It's not having strong enemies that's terrible, but having stupid allies...
Tyrion didn't even try to convince Cersei that Tywin wasn't immortal and couldn't lead House Lannister forever. Whether it was him or Jaime, neither had the prestige Tywin Lannister possessed. Once the Old Lion died, half of House Lannister's strength would vanish.
Rhaegar, who was about to finish his speech, raised his hand for the third time, and the crowd fell silent for the third time. "The motto of my house is Fire and Blood. Let Archbishop Roland Grey be punished with just that: fire and blood."
"But I will let the Old Gods and the New decide who is right. The Archbishop will represent the Faith in this trial, and my sister will represent House Targaryen."
As soon as Rhaegar's words rang out and faded, one could hear even the people's breathing. Incredulous, confused, and shocked gazes fell upon the King.
What had they just heard?
The King would throw the Archbishop and his own sister into a pyre to let the gods judge who was right and wrong!?
Compared to the smallfolk, the noble houses showed nervousness, looking at the King with caution. The Mad King burning nobles nearly twice a week was still fresh in the minds of the middle-aged generation present.
If Rhaegar truly shared his father's habits, they would have to rethink whether they were on the right side of this war.
Rhaegar noticed the nobles' stares but ignored them. He knew exactly what they were thinking. But the birth of the dragons would turn that caution into admiration and reverence.
"Is he mad?" Catelyn placed her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide.
However, Eddard looked deeply at the King; he was certain Rhaegar wasn't mad and wouldn't do something so risky. Remembering the mage, the Lord of Winterfell's grey eyes narrowed, and he understood that this was all a show to provide a valid reason for House Targaryen to attack the Faith of the Seven.
Aside from Shireen, who was too young to understand what was happening, a few people from the Great Noble Houses understood what was going on.
Cadmus apparated and appeared beside the King, holding a man in red clerical robes by the collar. It was Roland Grey, or rather, a criminal who had taken Polyjuice Potion. Since Rhaella wanted to torture the Archbishop, he had helped the beautiful Queen Dowager a little.
"Blasphemous traitor!!!"
"Death to the traitor!!!"
"Burn him alive!!!"
As soon as Cadmus appeared with Roland, the shouts erupted; the red clerical tunic couldn't be clearer in this setting. The mage ignored the crowd and tied Roland atop a pyre filled with branches, logs, and dry straw.
After that, he returned to where the Royal Family stood. Cadmus looked at Rhaegar, and he didn't even need to speak for the King to understand. Everything was ready to begin.
Turning to look at Daenerys, Rhaegar asked in a solemn tone, "Are you sure you want to go through with this? I can come up with an excuse for the people."
Daenerys looked at Rhaegar and then at Cadmus, who was staring at her with a strangely confident look, as if he were absolutely certain she could hatch the dragons. Honestly, it moved her a little; that unconditional trust was quite comforting.
"It's alright, brother," Daenerys looked directly into Rhaegar's eyes. "I can do it."
Looking at Cadmus beside her brother, Daenerys spoke calmly. "Cadmus can burn a city; what is saving me from a mere fire?"
Rhaegar let out a sigh and spoke in a calm tone. "Then go. Take the dragon eggs and let this world know dragons again after nearly two centuries."
"The black dragon is mine," Daenerys said with a laugh. She had chosen the black egg long ago; she wanted Balerion to be reborn in her hands.
Rhaegar and Rhaella heard her words and rolled their eyes, but both were smiling in that moment. Especially Rhaella; she looked at her daughter and said gently, "If it doesn't work, don't hesitate to call for Cadmus."
"I know, I don't want to die," Daenerys said with a laugh, lightening the mood. Turning to look at Cadmus, she said softly, "Cadmus, help me carry the dragon eggs; they're too heavy."
"The chest will appear on the pyre," Cadmus said with a kind and slightly expectant look. He was truly anxious to see the birth of the Mother of Dragons.
Daenerys nodded and, under the eyes of everyone present, descended the stands and walked toward the funeral pyre, though it wasn't being used as a funeral object at this moment.
"Grandmother, she is truly brave," Margaery commented, her tone filled with genuine admiration for Daenerys's courage. Even if she knew Daenerys wouldn't be hurt under Cadmus's protection, who in their right mind would agree to step into a burning pyre?
"Then you still need more resolve, Margaery." Watching the girl walk toward the funeral pyre, Olenna's eyes narrowed. She saw a metal chest appearing next to where Roland was tied to a wooden stake. No one was paying attention to that, so no one noticed the metal chest appearing.
"Remember to always show resolve; do not hesitate in decisive moments," Olenna looked back at her granddaughter and said calmly. "It's kill or be killed; do not hesitate in your decisions."
"I know, Grandmother," Margaery said casually, but there was a hint of helplessness in her tone. What was the worst part of having a grandmother like Olenna? Margaery knew it was the endless lessons on life and the court. The woman could criticize and teach based on any mention of her words.
Olenna certainly knew her granddaughter's thoughts, but she didn't care; if young people listened to advice, they wouldn't be young. Thus, the Queen of Thorns wasn't angry or helpless in the face of her granddaughter's casual attitude.
People need to make mistakes to become better; Olenna only wanted Margaery's mistakes to be lighter thanks to her advice.
While Olenna and Margaery talked, Daenerys climbed onto the funeral pyre. She smiled and waved to the smallfolk in the stands before her. The gentle gesture made the crowd feel immense concern for Daenerys.
Some people even shouted for the King to stop this madness, but Rhaegar remained impassive and looked at Cadmus.
Knowing it was the right moment, Cadmus simply snapped his fingers. A golden flame exploded on the funeral pyre! The golden flames burned fiercely, startling the people in the front stands.
Screams of pain were heard in the next moment, but to the relief of the people and all of House Targaryen present, there was only one male voice!!!
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Read the advanced chapters on my
/GOTSW
Read my other books:
Game Of Thrones: The God-Emperor of Planetos (400,000 words written).
Percy Jackson: Godwyn the Golden.