Daenerys was the one who spoke up next. "I didn't believe until I saw them," she said. "I saw them all."
"How many?" Jaime asked.
"A hundred thousand, at least."
His eyes widened at that.
Euron stood suddenly, starting to talk off the platform. He lowered in front of the dead wight, staring at it. "Can they swim?" he asked.
"No," Jon replied.
"Good."
He stood, looking over at Cersei. "I'm taking the Iron Fleet back to the Iron Islands," he stated.
"What are you talking about?" Cersei demanded.
"I've been around the world. I've seen everything, things you couldn't imagine, and this... this is the only thing I've ever seen that terrifies me."
He turned, stepping up to Daenerys. "I'm going back to my island. You should go back to yours," he said. "When winter's over, we'll be the only ones left alive."
He glanced at Emmelyne. "Hopefully you'll stay on that island."
And then he left the Dragonpit, everyone watching him as he went.
"He's right to be afraid," Cersei spoke up. "And a coward to run. If those things come for us, there will be no kingdoms to rule. Everything we suffered will have been for nothing. Everything we lost will have been for nothing. The crown accepts your truce. Until the dead are defeated, they are the true enemy."
Jon let out a sigh. Emmelyne wasn't sure if it was relief, or if he was letting out a breath he'd been holding. "In return," Cersei continued, "the King in the North will extend this truce. He will remain in the North where he belongs. He will not take up arms against the Lannisters. He will not choose sides."
"Just the King in the North?" Daenerys asked.
Cersei just smiled.
"Not me?" Daenerys pressed.
Cersei chuckled. "I would never ask it of you. You would never agree to it. And if you did, I would trust you less than I do now. I ask it only of Ned Stark's son. I know Ned Stark's son will be true to his word."
Jon looked at Davos. At Emmelyne. Daenerys. And then back at Cersei. "I am true to my word," he said. "Or I try to be. That is why I cannot give you what you ask. I cannot serve two queens. And I have already pledged myself to Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen."
Daenerys's eyes went wide. Everyone else shifted in their seats.
Cersei began to stand. "Then there is nothing left to discuss. The dead will come north first. Enjoy dealing with them. We will deal with whatever is left of you."
She started walking away, looking at Emmelyne. "Lady Stark. I'd like to speak with you. Follow me."
Emmelyne looked at Jon, but Cersei continued. "Don't hesitate. Just come with me."
Emmelyne rose from her chair, looking at Sandor anxiously before following Cersei. Behind them, Jaime and Brienne were speaking. Cersei stopped, watching them for a moment. But she turned away just as quickly, leading Emmelyne along.
Cersei led Emmelyne to her chambers. She closed the door behind them, green eyes locking with gray. "Emmelyne Stark," she said. "It has been a long time."
"Five years, I believe," Emmelyne replied.
"You're, what, twenty-three now?"
"Yes."
Cersei chuckled lowly. "Twenty-three. Noble. Pregnant."
Emmelyne stiffened. "How can you tell?"
"A mother's intuition. Pregnancy suits you well."
Emmelyne didn't answer.
Cersei had begun to circle her. Like a lion stalking its prey. But Emmelyne was a wolf. She was not prey, and she refused to let Cersei taunt her. "Who's the father?" Cersei pressed. "Sandor? I'd love to see what kind of a creature a pretty little thing like you and an ugly beast like he could create. Or is the father lowborn?"
"Why do you care?" Emmelyne snapped, and Cersei chuckled again.
"It's been years since I've seen you, Emmelyne. I want to know what kind of person you are now. What kind of people you attract. I knew you when you were sixteen, seventeen, and for some of when you were eighteen. But you've clearly changed. You're not the foolish little girl that I knew."
Emmelyne lowered her head, not speaking. But Cersei continued. "So, Emmelyne, who's the father?"
"Not Sandor. Not lowborn," she said.
"Really? Highborn, then? Lord? Knight?"
"A knight."
"Noble birth?"
"Yes."
Cersei smiled slightly. "Do you plan on marrying him?"
Emmelyne bit down on her lip. "No."
"I'd assume someone northern. But I don't think that's the case."
"He's from the Vale."
"An Arryn knight?"
"Yes."
"What house?"
Emmelyne didn't like all of these questions. But she knew Cersei would be angry if she didn't answer them. "House Waynwood."
Cersei nodded. "You remind me of myself when I was young," she told Emmelyne. "Highborn, lovely, pregnant. I was twenty-one when I had Joffrey, only two years younger than you are now. I was twenty-seven when I had Myrcella, and I was twenty-eight when I had Tommen. A mother should never love anything more than her children. Her first child, especially."
The queen chuckled softly to herself. "Mothers are never supposed to have favorites," she said. "But we do. We always do. Joffrey, Tommen, Myrcella, all of them were my children and I loved them so. But Joffrey was my first born. He was my beautiful little lion. He was my golden-haired beauty. I was so pleased when he was born. Jaime's through and through."
"Joffrey was a heartless bastard who took pleasure in seeing the people around him suffer," Emmelyne stated.
Cersei sighed, looking at the floor for a moment. "Joffrey... was a... cruel young man. A mother's love can see past that, you learn. You learn to see past all of your children's flaws. I suppose... I always knew that Joffrey was not all good. They call it Targaryen Madness. Children born of incest. Born mad. That little claimant queen you're with, the Mother of Dragons. She's the Mad King's daughter. It's only a matter of time before the madness seeps through the cracks."
She chuckled once more, and stopped circling Emmelyne. "How have you found yourself supporting the daughter of the man who murdered your grandfather and uncle?" Her lips were turned up in a slight smile. "You have to know what Aerys did to them. Suspended your grandfather above the throne room and- -"
"Shut up!" Emmelyne cried.
Cersei froze, her green eyes widening at the sudden outburst. She regained her composure quickly, however, and her smile grew. "There it is. There's the wildness I always saw in you. I liked that about you when you were younger. I suppose Sandor did, too."
"Leave me be."
"You're free to leave whenever you wish, Emmelyne. But you don't to. I can see it. You want to speak to me."
And Cersei was right. Emmelyne knew this.
Cersei took a few steps closer. "Who else knows about your pregnancy?"
"Sandor," Emmelyne replied.
"I see. It's all a big secret, then? I suppose I can understand that. Only two people know I'm pregnant."
"What?"
Cersei shrugged, her smile fading a bit. "I'm pregnant, too, wild girl."
Three for you.
A voice began to echo in Emmelyne's mind. She closed her eyes.
There was a girl. Blonde, young, only around thirteen or so. With the prideful face and the green eyes, Emmelyne was sure that this was Cersei. There was another girl at Cersei's side. She was a lovely girl, with black hair.
Cersei was staring at a woman. She had light brown hair and dark eyes. "The king will have twenty children and you will have three. Gold will be their crowns... gold their shrouds," the fortune-teller said.
When Emmelyne returned to reality, Cersei was watching her. "You've seen something. What is it?"
"The king will have twenty children," Emmelyne said softly, "and you will have three. Gold will be their crowns... gold their shrouds."
Cersei looked crestfallen. She attempted to hide this with a smile, but it was no use. She looked at the floor, and then back at Emmelyne. "Maggy the Frog. She said that I'd marry the king. That came true. She said that I'd have three children that died. That came true, too. But one of her predictions hasn't come true. A queen more beautiful than I will take all I hold dear and steal my kingdom."
She let out a rueful chuckle. "I thought it was Margaery Tyrell. I killed that grinning little bitch from Highgarden. For a time, I thought it was you. Joffrey liked you. He wanted to put aside his marriage with Sansa and wed you in her place. You're a lovely girl, I suppose. Joffrey would've immediately withdrawn from me. It could've even been Sansa, but she's not fit to be a queen. She wouldn't win a fight against me. Now, it seems, it may be this Daenerys Targaryen. I'm waiting for her final prediction to come true."
Emmelyne bit her lip once more.
Cersei let out a sigh, smoothing her hands over the skirt of her dress. "You may leave. Join that crew of northerners and your Clegane."
"He's not mine," Emmelyne said.
Cersei managed another smile. "Oh," she said. "But he is."