From the moment the Green Priestess filed her complaint to now, over a month has passed, and finally, the day of Cleon's public trial has arrived.
Even the "Hall of Justice and Mercy" on the first level of the pyramid couldn't accommodate the crowd—the number of citizens who had gathered was simply overwhelming.
A public trial of "Scholar Bao"? Who wouldn't be excited or concerned?
To be honest, the idea of repackaging Cleon as "Scholar Bao" wasn't exactly clever.
The people are neither blind nor fools.
The gap between the debauched and lecherous Butcher Earl and the "impartial and incorruptible guardian of Meereen" is so vast that even a blind man could see it.
Under different circumstances—say, if the person who attempted to assassinate Jon Botley wasn't a Ghiscari, or if there hadn't been an organization like the "Sons of the Harpy" stirring up memories of nightmarish slavery among the newly freed men—Cleon declaring himself "upright and devoted to the people, framed by traitors" would have only earned him ridicule from bards, singers, and the common folk.
But the case of the Sons of the Harpy was too exceptional. It concerned the core interests of all freed slaves in Slaver's Bay.
These Ghiscari conspirators specifically targeted the Dragon Queen, the high-ranking officers of the Meereenese Mother of Dragons Guard, and the representatives of the new freedmen.
Their very doctrine aimed to overthrow the current "freedmen rule themselves" regime and restore the Ghiscari's brutal system of slavery.
Put plainly, Cleon's harsh crackdown on the Sons of the Harpy could be seen as a continuation of the class struggle.
The former ruling class—the Ghiscari slave masters.The formerly oppressed—the slaves, now the newly freed.
The overthrown and the revolutionaries.
These were two sharply opposed and quintessentially distinct classes.
After taking Meereen and Yunkai, the Dragon Queen's liberation war had concluded its military phase, and the class struggle had entered a new stage: ideological mobilization through plays and songs exposing the injustice of slavery and the suffering it caused.
This was meant to ignite the people's hatred for the old ruling class.
The deeper their hatred for the former slave state, the more they would cherish their present freedom. The more hostile they were toward the slave masters, the more loyal they would be to the Dragon Queen.
This emotionally charged momentum could turn passive onlookers into active revolutionaries, thereby strengthening both the Queen's resistance against the Allied forces and the stability of her rule.
Logically, once hatred had been stirred, the next step should have been taken: reckoning.
Revolutionaries not only harbor hatred but also rage. A purge would help release both.
It's killing many birds with one stone.That's how "everyone else" does it.
But the Dragon Queen couldn't do it.
First, her enemies weren't limited to the Ghiscari of Slaver's Bay. Every slave owner in the world was her target.
In other words, she was still in the early stage of building a "united front against slavery."
Weak minor slaveholders, those with some sympathy for slaves, and neutral powers focused solely on profit were all potential allies in this "united front."
Just like how "everyone else" does it.
If the whole world were a single nation, the Dragon Queen would, at best, control a single county right now—her revolutionary base.
Only after completing unification would she no longer need the "united front."
At that point, her former allies—the weak slaveholders, the sympathetic major slaveholders—would be reclassified as class enemies. The profit-driven neutrals and the indecisive freedmen would be branded with ideological labels like "XX-ism."
Simply put, the Dragon Queen couldn't be too harsh with the Ghiscari. Otherwise, slave masters in other city-states wouldn't surrender. Worse, believing they had no way out, they might unleash a desperate counterattack.
The second reason?The Long Night is coming. If all the Ghiscari were "purged," who would farm for the Dragon Queen?
So, halfway through the class struggle, the Dragon Queen halted it abruptly, leaving the newly freedmen confused and unsettled.
Then Cleon appeared out of nowhere.
When the wind blows, even a pig can fly.
Cleon didn't just ride the wind—he had invisible wings.
A hero who met his moment.
He picked up where the struggle had left off and carried it forward in his own way.
He went above and beyond in purging the Ghiscari, helping the newly freed vent their pent-up rage.
And so, he became the "righteous magistrate" in the eyes of singers, poets, and the non-Ghiscari freedmen.
After all, what is a righteous magistrate if not someone who speaks for the people?
Cleon did just that. Why shouldn't he be called a righteous magistrate?
Only one thing: his methods were excessively brutal.
But to the common folk, the saying "a just official is fiercer than a corrupt one" is simply common sense.
A corrupt official? Detestable.A fierce, incorruptible one? Admirable.
That's the simple mindset of the people.
Even if Cleon did break the law, they could forgive him.
Daenerys understood this all too well, which is why she came up with the clumsy idea of dressing Cleon in "Scholar Bao's" robes.
As it turns out, it worked quite well.
"Cleon the Impartial!""Cleon the Loyal and Righteous!""Cleon, Righteous Magistrate of Meereen!""Cleon, Nemesis of Villains!"
From the chamber to the square outside, thousands of people crowded together, shouting slogans in unison.
They were constantly pressuring the fifteen jurors seated on the bench.
The preliminary hearing had twenty-seven "legal experts" reviewing Cleon's crimes. The public trial had fifteen jurors: five nobles, five representatives of the newly freed citizens, and five Ghiscari representatives.
"It's almost time," Missandei reminded the Dragon Queen.
Yes, Daenerys was the High Judge, seated beneath the plaque that read, "Justice Above, Mercy Below."
This was also the Queen's throne.
"Snap!" The Dragon Queen slammed the gavel, and the Unsullied below began rhythmically striking the floor with their water-and-fire staffs.
"Thump, thump, thump!"
They shouted, "Might and Majesty!"
Ten more Unsullied held up signs that read "Silence."
Two stood inside the hall, while the remaining eight were spaced out on the second level of the pyramid, facing the freedmen gathered in the square.
The Dragon Queen's commanding presence was extraordinary. In an instant, all chanting ceased. Inside and outside the hall, silence fell.
"With just one sign, she accomplished what Cersei's 3,007 swords never could," said the Wildfire General in awe.
Young Aegon looked enviously at his Aunt Dany seated on the throne and sighed, "When I ascend the Iron Throne, will the people of King's Landing be this obedient?"
"That depends on whether your 3,007 swords are sharp enough. King's Landing is full of unruly commoners. Unless you can fill every stomach and give everyone a clean, spacious home, they'll never love any king the way the freedmen of Slaver's Bay love the Dragon Queen," the Wildfire General said, removing his green helmet.
Ever since the last accident, Tyrion had been required to wear leather armor, full plate, and a helmet while working.
His iron helm became a safety hat, his armor a uniform.
The leather, the helmet, the armor—even the cloak trailing behind him—were all green, making him look like a burning ball of wildfire.
This was the Wildfire General's exclusive outfit. No one else was even qualified to wear it.
"Why 3,007 swords?" asked young Aegon.
"Three thousand Gold Cloaks and seven Kingsguard—that's all the power a king has. Compared to the Dragon Queen, it's nothing," Tyrion said with a sigh.
The Dragon Queen's dignified voice echoed through the silent hall: "The law is the law. Jurors, you may consider the opinions of the people, but do not be swayed by them. You are the jury. You know the law, so follow it."
"Yes, Your Honor!" The fifteen jurors respectfully bowed to Judge Daenerys and took their seats.
"Snap!" The Dragon Queen struck the gavel again, widened her beautiful eyes, and sternly questioned the prisoner below: "Cleon, you imprisoned the Green Priestess and her family without cause, and raided the Temple of Holy Grace.
Your first charge is 'persecuting religious leaders and threatening the religious freedom of Meereen's people.' Do you plead guilty?"
"Your Majesty, jurors," Cleon replied, composed and well-dressed, speaking with confidence, "I admit I detained the Green Priestess and most of the priestesses from the Temple of Holy Grace. I also admit I arrested their families. But before condemning me, please clarify one thing."
He raised his index finger, swept his gaze across the room, and said loudly, "Should the Green Priestess have been arrested? She's the spiritual leader of the Harpy's Sons, one of the founders of the rebel faction, and the greatest enemy of all freedmen in Slaver's Bay. I swear by the Seven Gods, she deserves punishment!"
"Swear by the Seven?"
Tyrion looked at the brown-skinned, black-and-red-haired Ghiscari butcher, then at the approving expressions around him, and found it all absurd.
"To hear the Seven Gods invoked in Slaver's Bay, thousands of miles from the Seven Kingdoms—it's bizarre," he muttered.
"What's so strange about that? You've never been to the Grand Temple of Holy Grace. You don't know how many followers of the Seven come to pray each day.
Especially those devoted to the 'Maiden of Light and Freedom'—the believers here are far more devout than in the Seven Kingdoms.
If you walked around the city more, you'd find that the teachings of the Seven Gods have deeply taken root in Astapor's households.
Now, white sisters preside over weddings, funerals, and births," said Sister Ashara dismissively.
"But I heard there are sacred prostitutes at the Grand Temple of Holy Grace. Is that part of the Seven's teachings too?" asked Duck Dackfair awkwardly.
"The Church needs money to survive, and not every woman is committed to serving the Seven. Besides, Red Priestesses and the Pleasure Gardens are part of the cultural traditions of the Essosi city-states," Ashara blushed slightly but forced a composed explanation.
Tyrion's eyes lit up. "I've heard of the famed Red Priestesses of the Pleasure Gardens. I thought the Dragon Queen had banned the profession."
As he spoke, he gave Duck Knight a firm smack on the thigh and muttered, "Duck, that was low. Visiting sacred prostitutes without telling me? Sisterhood—so exciting!"
"I only found out by accident while drinking at the docks. And you're always busy experimenting with wildfire bombs—sometimes we can't even find you," Duck replied.
Clinton's eyes lit up. He pulled Tyrion aside and asked, "Are you still… functional?"
"What are you talking about?" Tyrion looked puzzled.
"Two days ago, after I felt it, your little—"
Before he could finish, Tyrion's face turned red with fury. He growled, "Let me make this clear: unless you look as good as the Knight of Flowers and dress like a lady, it's never happening. Stop sexually harassing me."
Clinton's square jaw clenched, his face alternating between pale and red. He spat through gritted teeth, "Have you never looked in a mirror? Then again, it makes sense—anyone, including yourself, seeing that deformed ugly mug would either have nightmares or lose their appetite!"
"Well, that's a relief. I was genuinely worried your tastes were so unique that you'd overlook my appearance and fall for my noble, profound soul," Tyrion shot back.
"You two…" Young Aegon and Dackfair stepped back, horrified.
"Snap!" The gavel struck again, cutting off the quarrel. The Dragon Queen's voice rang out: "Bring forth the Green Priestess, Grazdan Qarrar!"
(End of chapter)
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