The wedding of Joffrey I and Ellie Tyrell was held on schedule. Aside from the North, nobles and lords from across the Seven Kingdoms gathered in King's Landing to attend. Even the lords of the Riverlands—who not long ago had been considered bitter enemies—made the journey.
Ever since the peace agreement signed by the Lords Paramount of the Six Kingdoms and their representatives was made public, everyone understood that the war was over. Holding on to old grudges served no purpose. What mattered now was seizing the opportunity in King's Landing to gain advantage—especially for those nobles who had lost their lands. Many of them came hoping to use the wedding to forge powerful connections and secure rights to claim vacant fiefs.
Even the Vale sent representatives—either in person or by proxy. Most of the emissaries were minor nobles, as the great lords of the Vale were occupied with an ongoing civil war.
Following a decree from the Iron Throne, the Vale had split into two factions. One was led by Lysa Tully, and the other by the highborn faction headed by Bronze Yohn Royce of Runestone.
Lysa Tully's failure to act during the wildling crisis had earned her the deep resentment of the Vale's people. Backed by the Iron Throne's edict, the great lords rallied behind Yohn Royce, seeking to take custody of young Robert Arryn and remove Lysa from power.
Naturally, Lysa refused to surrender. She closed off all routes to the Eyrie and sent word to Littlefinger in King's Landing. In response, Littlefinger handed over some of his agents in the Vale to help her resist the pressure from the highborn faction.
Although the great lords currently held the upper hand—more than eighty percent of them supported removing Lysa and allowing the Vale to govern itself—the situation was far from resolved. Lysa still held Robert Arryn, the feudal lord of all Vale nobility, and her control of the impregnable Eyrie deterred any direct action. Thus, the deadlock continued.
Because of this, they had little interest in Joffrey I's wedding—an event that marked the formal alliance of the Westerlands and the Reach. Instead, they sent minor nobles or knights as stand-ins to attend the ceremony.
King's Landing, which had grown quiet and worn from war, was once again bustling and lively. If it weren't for the still-damaged city walls and the abandoned siege engines left behind by Stannis's army, people might have forgotten that a siege lasting over a month had occurred here not long ago.
In honor of the wedding, Tywin lifted Jaime's confinement, and Joffrey ordered Tyrion released from his cell. However, citing treason charges and the risk of escape, Joffrey had Tyrion attend the wedding wearing shackles on both wrists and ankles.
Tyrion, unfazed, ate and drank as he pleased, showing no sign of shame about his chained state.
It was Tywin, on the other hand, who looked deeply displeased. His sour expression kept even the most eager courtiers—those hoping to win favor with the new Hand of the King—from approaching him.
Most guests, upon hearing the charges against Tyrion, quickly realized they were fabricated. It was clear that Joffrey was targeting him. Still, no one dared speak up on Tyrion's behalf. In fact, many preferred to see the internal feud within House Lannister continue.
There was, however, one who could not stand by in silence. When Joffrey met with his courtiers, someone stepped forward and said, "Your Grace, today is your wedding day. Lord Tyrion is only under suspicion and has not been convicted—he cannot be called a traitor. And after all, he is your kin. Forcing him to attend your wedding in chains undermines your dignity. I am willing to vouch for Lord Tyrion. He will not try to escape during your wedding. I ask that you grant me this small favor."
The one who spoke was Garlan Tyrell.
His words surprised many—Tywin included. After all, House Tyrell stood to benefit from any infighting within House Lannister.
Faced with Garlan's request, Joffrey was silent for a moment before saying, "If it were anyone else, I'd refuse without hesitation—and have them arrested as an accomplice to treason. But you, Garlan Tyrell, you're different. You're a decent fellow, and I suppose I can show you a little courtesy. Just this once. Don't waste my goodwill on something like this again." He turned to his Kingsguard and ordered, "Remove the shackles from the traitor Tyrion. Assign two men to watch him."
"Your Grace, your mercy is truly admirable," Garlan said with a smile, bowing before stepping back.
The court herald then resumed announcing the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms in attendance.
"Much appreciated, boy from House Tyrell." Once unshackled, Tyrion picked up a bottle of wine and two cups, walked over to Garlan, and poured them each a drink.
"Everyone knows you've been falsely accused, my lord," Garlan said as he took the cup, his tone slightly apologetic. "Unfortunately, my influence is limited. I can only do things that may seem trivial. After the wedding, when His Grace holds your trial, I'll speak on your behalf—though I doubt he'll listen."
"Lord Garlan, just being willing to speak up for me already means a great deal," Tyrion said sincerely. "But during the trial, you might want to hold your tongue. My nephew isn't known for his generosity. One moment you're his best friend, the next—he's pointing that coward's crossbow of his right at your chest."
Garlan shrugged it off. "Don't worry. His Grace Joffrey would never—"
Before he could finish, Jaime stepped in and interrupted, "Pardon me, but I need a moment alone with my brother. May we?"
"Of course," Garlan said with a smile, stepping aside.
"He's a good lad. Pity he's a Tyrell," Jaime muttered, watching Garlan walk away. Then he leaned in and said quietly to Tyrion, "I've arranged for a boat. When Joffrey and that Ellie Tyrell head to the Great Sept of Baelor for the ceremony, your old friends Bronn and Podrick will seize the chance to get you out. If anyone comes after you, I'll hold them off."
"With what? Your stump?" Tyrion quipped, his tone dry. Then he shook his head and added, "Don't forget—young Tyrell just vouched for me. If I run, Joffrey will take it out on him."
Jaime shook his head. "Don't worry about him. He's the future Lord of Highgarden and the current commander of the Reach forces in King's Landing. Even if Joffrey gets angry, he won't dare go too far."
"Enough! I'm not running. If I do, it'll be after the trial. I refuse to believe everyone here is blind. Can't they see this is all slander?" Tyrion declined his brother's offer. Just then, he noticed two Kingsguard approaching and motioned for Jaime to drop the subject. He quickly shifted the conversation. "Don't you notice anyone missing?"
"Missing?" Jaime was still focused on how to get Tyrion out and hadn't been paying attention to the Great Hall. At Tyrion's prompt, he looked around but didn't spot anything strange.
Tyrion gave the answer himself. "Cersei, Lynd, Sansa, and Shireen. None of them are here."
Jaime paused, finally realizing that some key people were indeed absent.
At that same moment, Lord Tywin and Lord Mace, seated at the high table, also noticed the missing figures. Both turned to their attendants, instructing them to check if someone had gone to Lynd's city residence to summon him.
Just as the crowd was wondering why Lynd had yet to appear, the court herald's voice rang out, announcing the names of the arriving nobles.
"Lord Lynd Tarran, Prince of Summerhall, the Stepstones, and the Narrow Sea, Favored of the Seven."
"Lady Shireen Baratheon, Duchess of Storm's End, Warden of the Stormlands."
"Lady Sansa Stark, Duchess of Winterfell, Warden of the North."
"Queen Mother Cersei."
As the final name was announced, Lynd entered the throne room with Shireen and the others. After offering a formal bow to Joffrey, the group moved to take their designated seats.
But the person who drew the most attention was not Lynd, nor the young duchesses Shireen and Sansa—it was Cersei, dressed plainly in the humble robes of a Redemptive Sister.
In the throne room, it wasn't just those closest to her—Joffrey, Tywin, Jaime, and Tyrion—who were stunned. Even the palace servants who had only seen her from a distance could sense it: Cersei had changed dramatically.
It wasn't her appearance that had changed, but her entire presence. Where once she had exuded nobility, pride, and a biting cruelty that pushed people away, she now gave off a sense of calm, quiet dignity—graceful and serene, like a true sister of the Faith.
"My eyes might be playing tricks on me, but... that nun is Cersei, right?" Tyrion asked, wide-eyed and stunned, tugging on Jaime's sleeve as he stared at the woman with disbelief.
"Uh... maybe?" Jaime replied, equally uncertain. He had known Cersei more intimately than anyone, but the woman before him no longer seemed like the person he remembered. Her entire aura was foreign to him, leaving him momentarily at a loss.
The most bewildered of all, however, was Joffrey. He stared at his mother in a daze, and after a long pause, finally stammered, "Mother... how did you... how did you become like this?"
But Cersei gave him no reply. She merely turned her head and cast a cold, indifferent glance in his direction.
It was a look Joffrey had never received from her before—and it made him shudder.
"Lord Lynd, what happened to Cersei?" Tywin had also noticed something strange and turned to Lynd to ask.
Before Lynd could reply, Cersei spoke for herself. "Father, there's no need to worry. I've simply completed all the trials of redemption. The trials cleansed me of my past sins and allowed me to witness the glory of the Seven. It was the Seven who saved me from a life of sin and granted me rebirth. I feel better than ever—like a newborn child."
Seeing the sincere devotion on her face, Tywin found himself momentarily at a loss for words.
Lynd then added, "You needn't worry, Lord Tywin. As she said, she's doing very well. Since the inception of the Redemptive Trials, Cersei is the first person to complete all of them in such a short time. Once she finishes her training as a Redemptive Sister, she'll become the second leader of the sisterhood."
In truth, Lynd had been just as surprised as the others when he witnessed her transformation. Not long ago, he had seen Cersei complete the final trial flawlessly, her body fully integrating the trial potion without a hint of rejection.
Even Serelia, the current leader of the sisterhood, had only managed about 95% compatibility with the final potion. She experienced a brief period of rejection, with some of the potion expelled through her pores along with sweat.
But Cersei was different. Her body accepted every drop of the potion perfectly. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that, with just the standard combat training of the Redemptive Sisters, Cersei's fighting capabilities would rival Nymeria's. And if she mastered the Ice Dragon Rune, she might even surpass her—provided Nymeria didn't draw upon the power of the Rhoyne.
Like Serelia, after completing all the trials, Cersei formed a deep mental—or perhaps even spiritual—bond with Lynd, coming to revere him as a divine figure. From that connection, she received a dragon rune mark. But unlike Serelia, who bore the Thunder Dragon Rune, Cersei was given the Frozen Dragon Rune.
Jaime walked over, stopping at Cersei's side. "Cersei... how did you become like this?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.
Cersei looked at him and replied calmly, "Is it really so bad, being like this? Jaime, you should let go of the past. We were both wrong. But now things are as they should be—you'll inherit Casterly Rock, and I've been reborn. You should be happy for me, brother."
Jaime stood frozen, staring at her in silence, unsure how to respond.
"How did you do it?" Tyrion stepped up beside Lynd, lowering his voice. "She's like... like a living saint."
"I merely awakened what was already inside her," Lynd replied casually. Whether anyone believed that or not was no concern of his.
...
Though Cersei's transformation had caused a stir, the commotion quickly settled, and the wedding ceremony resumed. After Joffrey finished greeting the assembled lords and nobles of the Seven Kingdoms, the guests made their way to the Great Sept of Baelor.
By the time Joffrey arrived, the Queen of Thorns and the Lady of Highgarden were already there, standing beside the bride—Ellie Tyrell.
It was Lynd's first time seeing the woman who now stood in for Margaery, and something about her struck him as deeply strange. Ellie Tyrell didn't resemble the Tyrells so much as she resembled Cersei. The resemblance went beyond mere appearance—it was in her bearing, her presence. She had the same aura that Cersei once carried.
Many nobles, after getting a good look at Ellie, couldn't help but glance over at Cersei and quietly compare the two—their looks, their manner, their spirit.
And as Ellie stepped into view, Lord Tywin and the other members of House Lannister looked visibly uncomfortable. They, too, realized something was amiss.
Only Joffrey beamed with joy as he gazed at his bride, clearly delighted with what he saw.