Chapter 77:
The plague's dark shadow quickly dissipated under the "Saintess's" baptism. The early summer sunlight once again gently caressed the city built of steel and stone. However, for the Mistress of Coin, Margaery Tyrell, that sunlight felt particularly glaring.
She sat in the pavilion, clutching a financial report so tightly that her knuckles turned slightly white.
"This is madness." Margaery tossed the report onto the stone table. Her usually charming brown eyes were now filled with frost. "The electricity company's payment rate has dropped by 30%. Those commoners would rather throw their coppers into Lilith's 'charity box' than pay their electricity bills?"
"My lady, it's gone completely wild outside," her personal maid said timidly. "They say even the water Lady Lilith bathes in can cure all diseases. Some nobles are even suggesting erecting a statue for her beside the Great Sept of Baelor."
Margaery let out a cold laugh. She plucked a blooming rose, ignored the thorns, and crushed it viciously in her fingers. The bright red juice stained her fingertips like blood.
As a woman who had grown up playing the game of thrones, she understood all too well the danger behind this kind of "deification movement." Daenerys had her dragons, Sansa had the North, and Margaery's only weapons were money and control over domestic affairs.
And now, Lilith Mort — this exiled woman of unknown origin — was trying to hollow out her foundations.
"Go and send an invitation to the Medical Academy," Margaery said, taking out a handkerchief to elegantly wipe the juice from her fingers and regaining the composure of the Rose of Highgarden. "Tell them that to thank Dean Lilith for saving King's Landing, I am hosting a special 'Gratitude Tea Party' in the Royal Gardens. She must attend."
"Since she is a goddess among the smallfolk," a ruthless glint flashed in Margaery's eyes, "then in noble circles, I will turn her back into the penniless beggar she truly is."
...
Afternoon, Royal Gardens.
The tea party was arranged with extreme luxury. Silk canopies from Highgarden shielded the blazing sun, and exquisite porcelain cups were filled with Dornish red tea. The highborn ladies of King's Landing had gathered, and the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfumes.
When Lilith appeared, the entire garden fell silent for a moment.
She was still wearing her signature plain white dress, without any jewelry. Her face looked slightly pale, and her steps were unsteady, as if she might collapse at any moment. This "sickly beauty" immediately evoked pity from many of the ladies present.
"Lilith, my dear sister, you've finally arrived."
Margaery smiled and stepped forward, affectionately linking arms with her. In reality, she gripped tightly, her nails digging into the flesh of Lilith's arm.
"Everyone calls you a saintess, but looking at your complexion, you seem worse off than the patients. Could it be that the food in our Red Keep doesn't suit the taste of a foreign 'princess' like you?"
The words sounded like concern, but they were actually a veiled insult mocking Lilith's lowly origins and implying she was putting on airs in the Red Keep.
Lilith felt the pain but made no sound. She merely lowered her head timidly. "Sister Margaery is teasing me. I've just been… a little anemic lately from preparing medicines."
[Black Mother Goddess System Notification:] [Hostile source detected: Margaery Tyrell.] [Current environment: Public social occasion.] [Tactical recommendation: Feign weakness to lure the enemy. Use the embryonic reaction of the "Chaos Twins" to create a perfect victim scene.]
Lilith lowered her eyelids, concealing the mocking cold light in the depths of her eyes.
"You want to humiliate me? Margaery, you chose the wrong battlefield."
Halfway through the tea party, Margaery began steering the conversation toward family lineages, etiquette, and jewelry — clearly targeting Lilith's knowledge gaps.
"Oh dear, Lilith my sister," Margaery picked up her teacup and asked deliberately, "I heard that your Mort family in Essos also has an ancient bloodline. I wonder, what is your family's sigil? It wouldn't happen to be… common wild grass, would it?"
A few soft chuckles rippled through the crowd.
Lilith's hand holding the teacup trembled slightly. Instead of answering, she suddenly clutched her chest, brows furrowed tightly, and let out a pained groan.
"What? Cat got your tongue?" Margaery, thinking she had struck a nerve, pressed forward mercilessly. "Or is it that this so-called Mort family is something you simply made up—"
"Ugh—"
Lilith suddenly retched. The teacup slipped from her hand.
Crash!
The scalding red tea spilled everywhere, splashing across Margaery's expensive silk skirt.
"You!" Margaery shrieked and instinctively reached out to push Lilith away from the stain.
The instant Margaery's fingers touched Lilith's shoulder—
Lilith was sent flying backward as if struck by a giant hammer. Her acting exploded at this moment. Her body traced a tragic, beautiful arc through the air before her waist slammed heavily into the stone railing behind her.
"Ah—!"
Lilith screamed and collapsed to the ground.
She clutched her abdomen. Her face turned deathly pale in an instant, and large beads of cold sweat rolled down her forehead.
"My stomach… it hurts so much…"
Lilith trembled. Between her legs, a thin trail of fresh blood (actually a few drops she had forced out by controlling her capillaries with the system) slowly seeped through her white dress.
The entire garden fell deathly silent.
Everyone had seen it: Margaery had pushed her.
"No… I didn't! I only touched her!" Margaery stared at her own hand, completely panicked. She had never expected this usually meek woman to be so "fragile."
"Margaery!"
A furious roar exploded like thunder.
At the garden entrance, Victor Pompeii stormed in with long strides. He had just finished a military meeting and had come to pick up Lilith, only to witness the scene.
In his eyes, he saw the frail saintess who had just saved the entire city being viciously pushed down by the "vicious queen" dripping with jewels — and she was even bleeding.
"Victor, it wasn't like that! She did it herself—" Margaery tried to explain, but Victor's murderous glare silenced her instantly.
Victor rushed to Lilith's side and scooped her up in his arms.
"Lilith! Look at me!" Victor's voice was trembling.
"My lord…" Lilith weakly opened her eyes and clutched tightly at Victor's collar, her knuckles white. "Don't blame Sister… I lost my balance… but… but our child…"
Boom!
The words hit Victor's mind like a depth charge.
"Child?" Victor froze.
At that moment, Grand Maester Pycelle — who had come running breathlessly (the old man was slippery, but he truly knew his medicine) — knelt down shakily and took Lilith's pulse.
A few seconds later, the old man's face bloomed into a chrysanthemum-like smile as he shouted loudly:
"Congratulations, my lord! Wonderful news!"
"Lady Lilith is with child! And the pulse is strong and vigorous. There are even… even echoes of two heartbeats!"
"It's twins! House Pompeii is about to gain new heirs!"
[System Notification:] [Congratulations, Host! Bloodline expansion achieved!] [High-potential offspring (twins) detected in gestation.] [Reward granted: Heavy Industry · Petrochemical Refining Technology (unlocks aviation fuel / high-explosive ordnance).]
The system's confirmation sent Victor into ecstatic joy.
Twins!
And at this critical moment when the plague had just been quelled and the people's hearts were fully on his side!
He suddenly turned his head and looked at the flustered Margaery standing nearby.
There was no longer any past affection in his gaze — only deep disappointment and a clear warning.
"Margaery." Victor spoke coldly. "Your jealousy nearly killed my two children."
"Victor, I…" Margaery was speechless. She looked at Lilith, who was nestled weakly in Victor's arms. Though she appeared on the verge of death, the corners of her mouth seemed to carry a faint, elusive smile. Only then did Margaery understand everything.
She had lost.
Completely and utterly.
Money could not buy sympathy, nor could it buy Victor's favoritism toward a "victim."
"Give the order," Victor said as he lifted Lilith and strode toward the bedchambers, leaving everyone with his resolute back. "Lady Margaery is feeling unwell. From today onward, she will rest in confinement at Maegor's Holdfast. Without my command, she is not to step outside her rooms even half a step."
"As for Lilith…"
Victor lowered his head and kissed the icy forehead of the woman in his arms.
"She shall be titled 'Lady of Holy Grace.' Her prenatal medicines will be personally inspected by me."
Lilith leaned against Victor's solid chest, listening to his powerful heartbeat, and closed her eyes.
On the interface only she could see, the mission completion prompt was flashing with a blood-red glow.
"Margaery, this is only the beginning."
"When these two little monsters are born, you will realize that this house arrest is the greatest blessing of your entire life."
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