Hear me Roar - English version

CHAPTER 65 - Stay !

               I enter the castle courtyard, the folds of my gown swirling behind me. All of this has lasted long enough. This alliance with Essos was never anything but an illusion, which we allowed to distract us for the pretty eyes of Daenerys. However, when one daydreams, reality always ends up catching up with us.

               Daenerys was a breaker of chains. She rid herself of the slavers and ruled with a master hand over the 'liberated' kingdoms. However, the Westerosi are already free. And although that may be a lie, they do not need to be reminded of it.

"Diana!"

               After several pleas, I finally turn toward Sansa, Tyrion, and, to my great surprise, Jon. I understand their worry, but if I were them, I would be rather relieved that I contented myself with a few stinging sentences.

"It is all of us you are dragging down with you," Sansa assails. "Into a new diplomatic incident."

"I do not fear a few Unsullied and savages from the east," I reply, turning tail.

"Have you lost your mind?!"

               She acts as if I didn't know that Grey Worm stood at the head of an army of several thousand highly trained soldiers. I thought she would understand better than anyone, she who spent years under Cersei's yoke, that what awaits us transcends their states of mind.

"They helped us," Jon intervenes. "We are..."

"Indebted? Do you think I am unaware of it?"

"You are arrogant, Diana. Again."

"I attempted to save Daenerys, I recovered her two dragons, and I slaughtered the Night King. My debt is paid. The Unsullied and the Dothraki never had their place in Westeros, and their presence no longer makes sense without their queen. I could have certainly been more diplomatic, but my decorum came to an end the moment Grey Worm rushed at me with his spear."

"She is right."

               In a single movement, the three of us lower our heads toward Tyrion. I thought he would hate me as much as the rest of the Targaryen delegation. Or, at any rate, that he wouldn't support me.

"Even without an army of the Dead," he explains, "Cersei is more dangerous than the Night King. She destroyed the Great Sept of Baelor over a few misunderstandings and rid herself of half the city's nobles. She is capable of worse than you imagine. So, we do not need quarrels in our ranks."

              I decide not to pick up on the choice of the word 'our' to designate my men. Daenerys died barely a few hours ago, and Tyrion has already decided to continue the fight against Cersei with a new commander. It would seem he is guided more by the will to bring down his sister than by loyalty. Then again... loyalty toward whom? you will ask me.

"I know that you are suffering," I say then to Jon. "And I apologize for being so abrupt. However, someone needs to act."

               He answers nothing but addresses a faint smile to me; I imagine that means he accepts my apologies.

♐︎

               It is strange to wear such a sumptuous gown after having made do with trousers and my mother's old clothes for so long. I needed to be the perfect Lady of Winterfell. So, I became her, or what she would have wanted me to be.

               Now, in this dark blue gown, I feel like an entirely different person. Tailored to measure in anticipation of victory, it hugs my bust with precision. A wolf has been embroidered onto the bodice. Upon my shoulders rests an ample cloak whose collar of dark fur frames my silhouette.