Two days later.
Three wyverns arrived from the west, landing atop the highest dragon tower of Dragonstone.
Tyrion, Arianne, the three Sand Snakes, the young Count Monterri and his household knights, and Davos had come.
"What kind of magic is this?" Davos pointed at the small sun floating a hundred meters above the center of the castle, his voice filled with uncertainty. "I heard sailors say Dragonstone had a sun. I thought it was just the glow of a magical tower.
But this clearly isn't. It looks like a shrunken sun. A real sun."
When flying over from Tidal Island earlier, Davos had already noticed something strange. The journey toward Dragonstone felt like traveling toward heaven, the light ahead growing brighter, the view becoming clearer and more luminous.
He had stepped from a dark, cold world into a bright, cold one.
Though there was sunlight here, the temperature was not much higher than elsewhere.
Standing atop the dragon tower, the north wind howled in gusts, tugging at his thick fur coat and greedily stealing every trace of warmth from his body. Yet his exposed skin could still clearly feel the warmth of the light, like long-lost sunshine.
At a glance, the sun appeared only about the size of a basin. Yet just as a small candle can light an entire room, the pale golden sunlight from this little sun spread across nearly all of Dragonstone. Even the sea was no longer a deep, oppressive black. He could once again see the familiar azure ocean.
For no reason he could explain, the rough and simple Davos felt a trace of emotion well up within him.
"It's too beautiful. So beautiful it takes your breath away," he said sincerely, gazing at the small sun.
"Hehe, am I really that beautiful?" The small sun spoke, and even moved.
Under Davos's stunned gaze, it drifted to about ten meters above his head. A little girl's face opened in its center. She was not especially beautiful, but there was a strange sort of cuteness to her.
"Mother Above, that's terrifying! The sun has a face, and it can talk. Is this some kind of fairy sun?!" Davos cried out, stumbling backward.
"Hahaha." His reaction amused those around him who had already seen the fire elemental.
The small sun glared at Davos, then closed its face again, returning to a radiant orb of light.
"This is an elemental lifeform created by Her Majesty the Queen, a fire elemental," said Laresa, who was wearing a mage robe patterned with flames on a blue background, as she walked up from the stairway and smiled at the Onion Knight. "A fire elemental can transform into a small person, a large raven, a great fireball, or a small sun. Right now, it's in its small sun form."
Arianne and the Sand Snakes exchanged knowing looks, while the dark-skinned girl quietly rolled her eyes at them.
"Everyone, the wind is strong here. Let's go down and talk. The Queen is waiting for you in the glass garden," the dark-skinned girl said seriously.
Davos glanced once more at the small sun drifting back to its original position, feeling somewhat dazed.
"The Dragon Queen can create a sun? How does she do it? Can the Lord of Light, R'hllor, do the same?" His mind was filled with questions, and he asked several in quick succession.
"Only Her Majesty can create elemental spirits. It's not exactly creation either. It requires special souls, and the Queen helps those souls awaken to a true new life," Laresa explained briefly, noticing the curiosity on the faces of the others.
In truth, Davos and the rest still did not fully understand, but they did not press further. The old crab led several knights forward to greet them.
After exchanging pleasantries, Arianne and the Sand Snakes followed the dark-skinned girl to the sitting room, while Tyrion, Davos, and the young Count Monterri followed the old crab to the glass garden in the rear courtyard.
As they walked and looked around, Davos could not help but feel a touch of sadness.
He was no stranger to Dragonstone. During the sixteen years when Stannis had been Lord of Dragonstone, he had often come and gone from this magnificent stone castle.
Now, aside from the tapestries and banners having changed, the rest of the scenery remained much the same as before.
But the people who once lived here had all changed.
"...Count Seaworth?"
The voice seemed to come from far away, pulling Davos out of his closed-off thoughts.
Only then did he realize he had arrived in a sunlit garden, warm as summer, filled with blooming flowers and lush greenery.
There was another sun here, beneath a glass dome, nourishing the thriving plants.
Then he saw the tall woman standing before a cluster of roses.
She wore only a simple dress, nothing extravagant.
He had not seen the Dragon Queen before, but with just one glance, he knew who she was.
Her delicate Targaryen features were secondary. More important was her bearing.
Very much a queen, very much a pope, very much "Saint Dany."
Before meeting the Dragon Queen, he had imagined her countless times: majestic, noble, sacred, powerful, domineering, and so on, all the words tied to her achievements.
But the moment he saw her in person, he discarded all those imagined images. It was not that he had been entirely wrong, but compared to the real person, every description felt pale and inadequate.
She was unique, yes, as unique as his king, Stannis.
There were only a few ornamental flowers in the garden; most of it was filled with vine-grown fruits and vegetables.
Beside a trellis covered in tender green cucumber vines stood a two-meter-long wooden table.
The Dragon Queen had little interest in the legendary Onion Knight. After exchanging a few words, the group pulled out chairs and sat by the table.
"Five million gold dragons, to be repaid after the Long Night, with Storm's End as collateral."
"What was Stannis thinking? How could he agree to such terms? Does he not know Tyrion is plotting to take his Storm's End?" Dany asked bluntly upon seeing the contract on parchment.
Originally, this was a negotiation between the Second Stag and Sansa. Tyrion and Dragonstone had no need to be involved, but Tyrion had become Sansa's agent, and Dragonstone served as the witness to the signing of the treaty.
"Your Grace, there's no need to put it so harshly! No one knows how many years the Long Night will last. Even now, Lady Sansa's one hundred thousand tons of grain is worth far more than five million gold dragons at market price.
It is not that the grain itself is worth that much, but that there is demand without supply. After the Long Night, there will be no grain production at all."
Glancing at the rows of fresh, vibrant cucumbers nearby, Tyrion quickly added, "Except in your garden, of course."
"If I were Stannis," he said, looking at Davos with a grin, "I would sell a large portion of that one hundred thousand tons of grain, use the proceeds to repay Sansa's five million debt, and treat the remaining grain as a free gift. At the same time, I would eliminate a competitor for the Iron Throne. A guaranteed profit with no risk of losing Storm's End."
A look of uncertainty appeared on Davos's weathered face.
Indeed, if Stannis followed the dwarf's method, he would gain without loss. Yet the dwarf was clearly not so kind.
In truth, as a former smuggler, Davos had already noticed this "loophole" without Tyrion pointing it out. That was why he had not rejected Tyrion and had instead presented the suggestion to his king.
For the past few days, he had been pondering it but could not discern Tyrion's true purpose. He had thought the clever little dwarf had finally made a foolish mistake and left such a flaw.
But now, he had stated it outright.
"What is your purpose?" Unable to figure it out, Davos asked directly.
Tyrion met the Onion Knight's suspicious gaze with the most sincere expression. "I am simply considering the greater good. I do not wish to see humans fighting among themselves when the Others reach the city."
"Look at my queenly sister here," he said, pointing at Dany. "The Iron Throne is within her grasp. The Baratheons, Lannisters, and Starks all have blood feuds with her, yet when humanity's greatest disaster arrived, she stepped forward without hesitation to face the strongest enemy, asking for the smallest possible reward.
I was once more despicable than Stannis, but now I follow the example of the virtuous and have decided to become a good man willing to make sacrifices."
Dany cast him a mocking glance but said nothing.
"If you were truly selfless, there would be no need to sign such a contract. You could simply follow Her Majesty's example and distribute grain freely to relieve the poor," Davos said.
"Baseness is the passport of the base. I may aspire to nobility, but I do not wish for it to be my epitaph," the dwarf replied, shaking his head.
"You did not come here to negotiate. The negotiation ended at Tidal Head Island. I am only responsible for witnessing the signing of the contract. If you have not reached an agreement, you may return to Spice Town," Dany said impatiently.
Davos gave the dwarf a long, deep look, then picked up the pen and signed his name on the parchment. Afterward, he stamped it with the seal of the Hand of the King.
Only after Tyrion finished signing with a satisfied smile did the Onion Knight say coldly, "Whatever scheme you have, it will not succeed. His Majesty Stannis has already acknowledged the identity of Mya Stone.
Like you, she is a 'super bastard.' She not only has the right to inherit from Stannis Baratheon and has restored the Baratheon name, but she is also the rightful Duchess of Storm's End."
"Mya Stone?" Tyrion paused, then quickly smiled again. "I know her. That face, that build, she is indeed Robert's child. A pity for that young swordsman of the Vale."
"The finest swordsman?" Davos asked, puzzled.
Tyrion smiled. "Your crown princess's former lover, Ser Michel Redfort, known as 'the finest young swordsman of the Vale.'
A younger son with no inheritance rights, who took the crown princess's maidenhood, yet despised her for being a bastard and instead married the younger daughter of Bronze Yohn."
"How do you know all this so clearly?" Davos asked warily.
Tyrion waved his hand. "As a dwarf, one must have some advantages beyond the body, such as insight and memory."
Realizing he could gain nothing more from Tyrion, Davos put away the sacred contract and turned to Dany, probing, "Your Majesty, His Grace Stannis has decided to launch a full assault on King's Landing as soon as the grain from Dragonstone reaches the Blackwater. What is your opinion?"
From the start of negotiations to the signing of the contract, more than half a month had passed. The grain transported from Tarth had been stored on Dragonstone.
"I have no objection," Dany said, shaking her head.
"The followers of the Seven in King's Landing bear great hostility toward His Grace Stannis. There will likely be significant casualties," Davos said cautiously.
"Then do not attack King's Landing," Dany replied.
"The arrow is already on the bow; it must be fired," Davos said with a bitter smile.
"Then why ask me?"
"You are the Pope. Perhaps you could persuade…" Davos lowered his head, unable to finish his sentence.
Dany, however, seemed very agreeable. "I have long since delivered the Holy Mother's oracle: the Church must not interfere in secular rule unless the king first issues an order against the Church."
"That will not happen, rest assured. His Grace Stannis follows the Lord of Light but still supports freedom of religion. I myself have always believed in the Seven," Davos said quickly.
"Heh, freedom of religion…"
(End of Chapter)
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