Chapter 112: The Fearless Barristan

The white-bearded man finally understood why Dany was called "The Unburnt"—because she truly was unburnt.

Yesterday morning, her "whipping for atonement" had won the tears and reverence of the people. Queen Dany was on the verge of being elevated to "Saint Dany, Blessed by the Gods"—unfortunately, there were no septons of the Faith of the Seven here.

The entire city, whether newly freed citizens, common Ghiscari, or noble Ghiscari, now worshipped and feared her to the extreme.

News spread beyond the city walls, and immediately, over a dozen major estate owners in the vicinity declared their allegiance.

As Queen Dany's personal deification progressed, the Queen's Code she had established also took on immense weight, becoming sacred and inviolable.

Her Majesty had consecrated it with her own blood, imbuing it with divine authority.

In the thousands of years of this world's history, no other legal code had ever been so wholeheartedly accepted by the people upon its inception, nor regarded with such reverence.

And that was precisely Dany's main goal.

With her deep understanding of Celestial Empire history, she had countless ways to win the people's love and admiration—flogging herself was neither the smartest nor the most efficient.

The true purpose of those fifty lashes was to spread the Code. As long as the people quickly learned of and accepted her laws, Astapor could be stabilized in the shortest possible time, transforming from a burden into her foundation.

Dany had not forgotten that to the north lay Yunkai and Meereen, to the south was New Ghis, to the east was Qarth, and to the west was Volantis.

These cities thrived on the slave trade, propping up their twisted prosperity. They would never tolerate an outlier like her.

Compared to all that, the price of fifty lashes was trivial.

Sure enough, after a night of roasting over hot coals, by morning, her wounds had all scabbed over. In a few days, not only would she fully recover, but there wouldn't even be a single scar left.

Witnessing the Queen's flesh being scorched by fire for the first time, the white-bearded man was utterly shocked. He kept muttering under his breath, "True dragon… true dragon… so the mad kings of history were not entirely mad. There really is a dragon that can be reborn in fire!"

He pondered all night, and by morning, he came before Dany, knelt on one knee, and said, "Your Grace, there is something I must tell you."

At the top level of the pyramid, in the garden under the shade of an apple tree, Dany lay on a soft couch, leisurely flipping through a thick book.

The salty sea breeze carried the sweet fragrance of apples from above, blending with the delicate scent of violets and Persian daisies, surrounding her with a heady sense of vibrant life.

"What is it?" she asked without looking up from the book.

After fully taking control of the eighteen pyramids and the Temple of the Graces, she had gathered every book she could find—regardless of language or content—so long as it wasn't a duplicate, and moved them all into her Great Pyramid.

In an era without printing presses, Dany now possessed an enormous and luxurious library.

Well… at least 300 books.

The one she was reading now was a history book, written from the perspective of a Ghiscari scholar, detailing the five great wars that led to the fall of the Ghiscari Empire and its conflicts with Valyria.

Through this relatively objective and fair account, Dany confirmed one thing: Five thousand years ago, the Ghiscari Empire was not akin to Egypt but rather the ancient Roman Empire.

The harpy emblem didn't clutch slave chains—it held golden lightning bolts. The difference in symbolism was vast.

The ancient Ghiscari Empire had once been a grand and glorious civilization. But after the Valyrians destroyed its capital, Old Ghis, the Ghiscari fell into complete decline.

Not that it was entirely their fault—Slaver's Bay had always existed to breed high-quality slaves for Valyria: bed slaves, scholars, stewards, gardeners, servants, and even slave-soldiers.

The Ghiscari never had the freedom to choose their own path of development.

"Your Grace…" Seeing Dany still immersed in her book, the white-bearded man called out again.

"I'm listening. Go on," she said.

He sighed and lowered his head. "I lied to you."

Now, Dany was interested. She placed a bookmark, closed the book, and turned her head to look at the kneeling old man. "What did you lie about?"

"My name is not Arstan," he said, his hesitant gaze tinged with an unconcealed trace of pride. "My true name is Barristan Selmy."

Dany looked at him strangely, unable to understand why he would reveal his identity at this moment. She nodded lightly and said, "I suspected you were hiding something, but I never expected you to be Barristan the Bold."

"Viserys told me many legends of Westeros, and your exploits took up a large portion—more than the White Bull and second only to Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning."

Her response left the old knight both disappointed and strangely relieved.

The Queen did not react with the expected joy, awe, or shock upon meeting a living legend.

But more importantly, she also did not fly into a rage over his service to a "usurper" or label him a "turncloak."

Breathing a sigh of relief, he said softly, "Prince Viserys gave me far too much credit. It was Ser Gerold Hightower, the White Bull, who first bestowed my white cloak upon me. He was my lifelong captain, and as for Ser Arthur's swordsmanship… I could never hope to match it."

Dany chuckled, looking at him with amusement. "If Viserys were here instead of me, he wouldn't be having such a calm conversation with you. He would have ordered his guards to drag you out and behead you on the spot."

"For more than a decade, he never had a good word to say about you. Every time he mentioned the legendary Kingsguard like White Bull or Dawn's Sword, he would take the opportunity to curse you as well."

"Your Grace, I... I am deeply ashamed!" The old man's face turned red instantly, so mortified that he wished he could find a crack in the ground to crawl into. "I have tarnished my own honor and dimmed the glory of the Kingsguard."

"Ser Selmy, please rise," Daenerys set aside her smile and spoke solemnly. "Facts before us hold far more weight than rumors—no matter how many people spread them. After spending time with you, I have witnessed firsthand your noble character and exceptional combat skills."

The old man did not rise. Instead, he lowered his head and choked up. "Your Grace, your generosity only makes me feel more ashamed."

I need to be generous enough to make you feel ashamed—how else will your loyalty deepen?

"I am not being generous," Daenerys said seriously. "Your past actions are enough for you to stand tall and explain your intentions to me.

Ser Barristan, why have you come to me? Surely you're not here to help the usurpers assassinate me?"

"No, I never once thought of harming you!" The white-haired knight shook his head emphatically and quickly added, "Joffrey stripped me of my white cloak—I will never serve the people of King's Landing again."

"Joffrey, Robert's heir, stripped you of your cloak? Isn't being a Kingsguard a lifelong duty? Why would he do that? Did you pick the wrong side in the 'Game of Thrones'?" Daenerys asked curiously.

In Game of Thrones, Barristan didn't have many scenes, and his character wasn't particularly vivid in her memory—it had already blurred over time.

"How can a Kingsguard be accused of picking the wrong side?" Barristan shook his head with a bitter smile.

No matter if the king was wise or foolish, kind or cruel, brilliant or mad, the Kingsguard pledged their unwavering loyalty.

"The Clegane family serves the Lannisters as their most vicious hounds. Gregor Clegane, known as 'The Mountain,' is Tywin Lannister's fiercest beast. His younger brother, Sandor Clegane, called 'The Hound,' is Joffrey's most obedient enforcer.

When that wicked boy ascended the Iron Throne, he wanted to drape his dog in a white cloak.

Meanwhile, Queen Cersei wanted her own brother, the 'Kingslayer' Jaime Lannister, to lead the Kingsguard.

Driving me out was the easiest way for them to achieve their desires," Barristan said bitterly.

"Hmm, so you're saying... if they had let you remain as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, you would have continued serving them and given them your complete loyalty?" Daenerys frowned.

"I do not wish to deceive you. If Joffrey had not stripped me of my position, there is a high chance I would still be in King's Landing, serving the king. Admitting this shames me deeply, but it is the undeniable truth."

At this, he raised his head and looked at Daenerys with sorrowful eyes.

"Your Grace, please understand—The Kingsguard was founded with Aegon the Conqueror. Our fundamental duty is to pledge absolute loyalty to the ruler on the Iron Throne.

The concept of a regime change is unprecedented in Westeros. Even Robert Baratheon carried true Targaryen blood—his grandmother was Princess Rhaelle, your great-aunt. In a way, you and Robert are distant relatives."

Well, that's a bit of a mess.

"Alright, I understand," Daenerys nodded, finally letting go of his 'three-master betrayal' transgression.

"Ser, you are a knight who values honor above all else, and to you, serving the Iron Throne is the greatest honor for a Kingsguard. But what do you plan to do now?"

"Your Grace, I have awakened!" The old man declared solemnly.

Daenerys' lips twitched. Her teeth ached. "Awakened to what?"

"When Joffrey removed the white cloak given to me by White Bull and, on the same day, sent men to kill me, it was as if a veil had been lifted from my eyes—how did all this come to be, and for what purpose?"

The towering old knight had a look of deep recollection and sighed.

"I grew a beard, hid my identity, and entered the Great Sept of Baelor to seek answers from the Seven.

From your father to the usurper Robert, to the cruel and wicked Joffrey—I reflected on everything I had done alongside them.

In the end, I understood. Once I donned the white cloak, I was a Kingsguard for life. But this time, I must find a true king. I will die for the rightful ruler."

"So, I'm your first candidate?" Daenerys tilted her head at him.

"Not exactly a candidate," Barristan said. "When Illyrio told me you had hatched three dragons, I made up my mind to dedicate my life to you."

That's your grand realization?

Because I have dragons? Because dragons are invincible, and I have the best chance to end the chaos and reunite the Seven Kingdoms?

And here I thought you spent all that time praying in the Great Sept for some deep revelation.

"Why did you conceal your identity?" she asked.

Barristan's expression darkened. He scanned his surroundings cautiously before speaking in a serious tone.

"Because there are spies from King's Landing in your midst. In truth, you and your brother have been under surveillance all along.

As Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, I was also a member of the Small Council, with access to both public and secret meetings.

For fourteen years, I have heard Varys report on you and your brother to Robert Baratheon countless times.

Which great lords received you, which sellsword companies your brother contacted, every promise Viserys made to merchant princes for the sake of reclaiming the throne...

Even every woman your brother lay with, and even the exact day you first bled as a woman—every detail was reported in full to King Robert and his council."

(End of Chapter)

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