Chapter 475: The Red Dragon and the White Raven

The weather in King's Landing suddenly turned colder.

A biting wind howled like the claws of a beast, scraping against the windows. Frost coated every tower of the Red Keep, and paths were blanketed with a carpet of white.

A full moon, round as a snowball, hung in the sky, surrounded by sparse and icy stars.

Fortunately, the blazing hearths provided warmth, driving away the chill inside the castle.

Seven maids moved lightly as they carried a sumptuous dinner to the table. Samwell sat at the head, with his two queens seated on either side. Behind him stood Ser Barristan Selmy, once again clad in white armor, as still and imposing as a statue.

"Cersei was escorted out of the city today," Daenerys remarked as she cut into the steak on her silver plate. "It wasn't a pretty scene. It seems the people of King's Landing despise their former Queen mother.

Thousands crowded the streets, pelting her with rotten fish, leaves, and even stones. If it weren't for the guards holding them back, the furious mob might have torn her apart and eaten her."

"At least she was clothed this time," Samwell mused, recalling the original story in which Cersei had been marched naked through the streets. For a moment, he thought himself merciful by comparison.

"This time?" Daenerys asked, puzzled.

"Sam must be referring to when Tywin forced his father's mistress to march naked through Casterly Rock after his father's death," Margaery guessed, thinking she had uncovered her husband's meaning.

"Yes, perhaps it's poetic justice," Samwell replied.

"The people of King's Landing are venting their anger at House Lannister through Cersei," Margaery observed. She struggled to keep the little one in her arms from climbing onto the table. "Considering all the atrocities committed by the Lannisters, it's no wonder the people hate them so much."

Samwell sipped his wine and said, "That's true, but someone has been fanning the flames in the background."

"The northern lords, almost burned alive by her, no doubt," Margaery quickly deduced.

"Exactly," Samwell confirmed with a nod.

Ever since he had taken over the "Spider's" web of informants, little in King's Landing escaped his notice. Still, it would take time to establish contact with the "little birds" spread across the Seven Kingdoms and even Essos.

"They deserve it!" Daenerys said through gritted teeth. "During Robert's Rebellion, the Lannisters pillaged King's Landing, sparing neither mothers nor children. Sam, I think you've been far too merciful. No one would blame you if you wiped out their entire house."

"Annihilation is a bit extreme," Margaery countered. "Especially now. We need the Seven Kingdoms united, and excessive brutality would only cause unrest."

Daenerys huffed but didn't argue further. She wasn't a cruel person and spoke only out of sorrow for the past.

Octavian finally wriggled free of his mother's grasp, clambering onto the table and rolling around with a dragon egg in his arms.

"He's especially unruly today," Margaery sighed. "I should have the nursemaid take him to bed."

Samwell chuckled and waved it off. "Let him play. A bit of movement is good for children."

Relieved, Margaery let it be.

Daenerys smiled as the little one rolled to her side. She spooned a bit of milk from her plate and held it out to him.

Octavian accepted the offering, opening his mouth eagerly.

"Sam, how do you plan to deal with House Lannister? Will they keep Casterly Rock?"

"Of course," Samwell nodded. "No one else in the Westerlands can command the same loyalty as the Lannisters. And right now, I don't have the time to raise a new Warden of the West."

Just then, Octavian rolled over to Samwell, who smiled and held a small spoonful of mashed potatoes to the boy's lips. Octavian gobbled it up and continued to roll around on the table.

But as he rolled, his little hands slipped, and the red dragon egg tumbled from his grasp. It wobbled across the table, heading straight for the edge.

Margaery gasped, starting to rise, but Samwell moved like lightning, catching the egg mid-air with almost inhuman speed.

"Don't worry," Daenerys reassured, smiling. "A dragon egg wouldn't break so easily, even if it hit the ground."

The smile froze on her face in the next instant.

A crack appeared on the surface of the dragon egg.

"What's happening?" Margaery exclaimed in shock. "It didn't even fall!"

"Stay calm," Samwell said, soothing his panicked wives. "It's hatching."

Margaery's astonishment turned to delight. She fumbled for words.

"Is there anything we need to do?"

Her nervousness almost exceeded her anxiety during childbirth.

"Just wait patiently," Samwell replied, smiling with the confidence of experience.

"A new member for the dragon family!" Daenerys exclaimed, bouncing with excitement.

Ser Barristan held his breath, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on the egg as cracks spiderwebbed across its surface.

Finally, a triangular red head poked out of the shell, emitting a soft, high-pitched screech:

"Roar—"

"It's out!" Margaery clapped her hands, leaning closer to examine it. "A red dragon!"

As the little dragon wriggled free, its dark red scales gleamed like flowing blood in the candlelight. It opened its tiny mouth, releasing a wisp of smoke mixed with sparks.

Samwell gently lifted the dragon by its scruff and set it down next to Octavian.

Unfazed, Octavian giggled and hugged the hatchling.

The baby dragon responded by flicking out a thin tongue to lick the boy's face.

Watching this harmonious scene, Margaery's face softened into a radiant smile.

"They'll fly together someday!"

Samwell laughed heartily, ready to make a celebratory remark, when a sudden tapping at the window silenced him.

The group turned to see a massive white raven perched on the sill, pecking urgently at the glass.

Outside, snowflakes danced in the air. The bird's wet feathers glistened with ice, reflecting the moonlight.

It was the largest raven Samwell had ever seen, bigger than some hawks. Snow swirled around it as moonlight bathed its body in a silvery glow.

This was a white raven from the Citadel.

Unlike their black counterparts, white ravens didn't carry messages. They had a singular purpose: to announce the changing of seasons.

The joy of the red dragon's birth froze into icy silence.

"Winter has come," Samwell said gravely.

(End of Chapter)