Chapter 409: The True Dragon

Taking advantage of the chaos, Tyrion carefully tried to slip away unnoticed.

Just as he breathed a sigh of relief after exiting the great hall, a massive dragon's head appeared in front of him.

"Wait, wait! I haven't bathed!"

Cleopatra, the white dragon, exhaled a puff of sulfurous breath that blew Tyrion back several steps.

"Tyrion, why leave without saying goodbye?" Samwell's voice called from behind him.

Knowing escape was no longer an option, Tyrion turned around, forced a smile, and said,

"You wouldn't kill a messenger, would you, Caesar? That's hardly a noble act."

"If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't need to lift a finger," Samwell replied with a grin. "I'd just kick you out of Sunspear. If you go back with news like this, what do you think the desperate Golden Company would do to you? Care to wager? My bet is they'd kill you out of sheer frustration."

"I'm not in the habit of gambling with my own life," Tyrion said.

In truth, he understood that if he delivered such devastating news, the volatile Prince Aegon might indeed vent his rage on him.

"Don't do this, Caesar," Tyrion said with a strained smile. "I'm worth a hefty ransom. My father would pay a great sum for my release."

"Really? Does Lord Tywin love his second son that much?"

"Well, perhaps 'love' is too strong a word," Tyrion admitted, his expression darkening. "But I bear the Lannister name. Even for the sake of House Lannister's reputation, he wouldn't leave me in your hands."

"True, you do bear the Lannister name," Samwell said, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "But are you truly Tywin's son?"

Tyrion blinked. "What are you implying, Caesar?"

"I'm saying, how much of a father does Tywin seem to you? Your brother Jaime broke his vows, disgraced his honor, and joined the Kingsguard, making him ineligible to inherit. Yet Tywin still refused to name you his heir."

"My father simply preferred Jaime over me. I'm a dwarf—there's no mystery there," Tyrion said, feigning indifference.

"Is that really the only reason?" Samwell asked, his tone deliberate.

After a pause, Tyrion asked, "Caesar, are you suggesting I'm not Tywin's son?"

"Who's to say?" Samwell replied. "Your mother, Joanna, was once Queen Rhaella's lady-in-waiting before being dismissed. It's rumored the Queen complained that the Mad King turned her maid into his concubine."

"That's baseless gossip."

"Perhaps. But there's no smoke without fire. King Aerys openly lusted after your mother on more than one occasion. And your father's eventual falling out with Aerys? It might not have been unrelated to this."

"That proves nothing," Tyrion retorted. "Aerys was called the Mad King for a reason—he said whatever came to mind."

"And acted without restraint," Samwell added pointedly.

Tyrion laughed aloud. "Caesar, if you're trying to sow discord, you'll need more than speculation."

Samwell smirked. "Then how about Tysha?"

The mention of the name made Tyrion's face go pale. "How do you know about Tysha?"

"I met a woman named Tysha in Slaver's Bay…"

"That's impossible!"

"Believe what you will," Samwell said nonchalantly.

Tyrion hesitated for a moment before asking, "This Tysha you mentioned... what happened to her?"

"She's probably dead by now."

"Dead?" Tyrion exclaimed.

"When I saw her, she was barely alive. There was chaos in Astapor, and she'd been brutalized—only a thread of life remained," Samwell said as if recalling a distant memory. "She told me she once had a husband, a nobleman named Tyrion Lannister, who abandoned her cruelly…"

"She deceived me!" Tyrion snapped. "She claimed to be a farmer's daughter, but she was just a whore hired by my brother!"

"Is that so? Yet this woman insisted she truly was a farmer's daughter, who fell in love with a noble lord but was humiliated as a prostitute by his father…"

"Impossible!"

"Maybe she was lying. Who knows?" Samwell said with a shrug. "You could always ask Jaime—your father must have ransomed him from the Night's Watch after taking the North."

"I will ask him," Tyrion said, forcing himself to calm down. "But Caesar, you won't deceive me with fabricated stories."

Samwell laughed heartily. "Of course. Never trust your enemy's words. Verify it for yourself—I'm sure the truth will come to light one day."

Tyrion's expression flickered with uncertainty. After a moment of hesitation, he asked,

"What did the woman in Slaver's Bay look like?"

"She had black hair, was petite and thin, and not particularly beautiful—but she had a charming smile," Samwell replied. "Oh, and she had a mole near her nose. The rest is a blur; I didn't pay her much attention."

Tyrion froze.

A mole near her nose… It was his favorite spot to kiss when they played games of affection.

Could it truly have been Tysha?

No, impossible. This must be Caesar's lie.

Tysha was a prostitute, a fabricated wife.

But what if she wasn't? If she was telling the truth, his father had her gang-raped by his guards—had his wife gang-raped.

Tyrion tried to dismiss the thoughts, but his mind spiraled into chaos.

"Enough about that woman," Samwell said, breaking the silence. "There are countless farmer's daughters dreaming of noble connections. Maybe she was just another fraud."

Of course, Samwell had lied; he had never encountered Tysha in Slaver's Bay. Yet his lie was based on a bitter truth: Tysha had been an innocent farmer's daughter, not a prostitute. Tywin Lannister, unable to tolerate his son marrying a commoner, had concocted the story that she was a hired whore.

Samwell had no qualms about Tyrion seeking the truth. After all, in the original story, Tyrion killed Tywin upon learning the truth.

He eagerly anticipated how this version of events would unfold.

"Now, let's move on to business," Samwell continued. "Here's the deal: lure Prince Aegon into the city, and I'll let you return to King's Landing. Agreed?"

Tyrion, his thoughts still entangled with the mystery of Tysha, barely registered the question. Distracted, he nodded absently.

In a daze, Tyrion left the city.

"Well?" Aegon asked, pulling him out of his reverie. "Did the city surrender?"

"All is well," Tyrion replied. "They agreed to surrender."

"Good!" Aegon said, showing no sign of suspicion. "Have them open the gates. My promises still stand—grain, weapons, lands, titles—they'll receive everything."

Tyrion nodded and returned to Sunspear, his mind focused only on seeking the truth from Jaime. The fate of the Golden Company no longer concerned him.

Moments later, the city gates slowly opened.

Aegon remained cautious, stopping outside the gates and ordering the nobles to come out and swear fealty.

But only one man emerged—a young, imposing figure.

"Are you Edmure Tully?" Aegon asked.

The man smiled enigmatically. "No. I am Samwell Caesar."

Aegon froze. Before he could react, Samwell lunged forward, seizing him by the collar and yanking him off his horse.

The Golden Company erupted into shouts of anger.

But Samwell, undeterred, retreated several steps with Aegon as his shield.

"Let me go!" Aegon demanded. "Or my men will kill you."

"Let them try," Samwell said calmly, keeping Aegon in front of him.

Above, a shadow darkened the sky.

Aegon looked up to see a colossal figure descending—a dragon.

Its mouth opened, and flames poured forth like a river of fire.

"No!" Aegon screamed, but the flames consumed him—and Samwell too.

Both armies watched in stunned silence as the inferno engulfed the scene.

When the flames subsided, Samwell stood unscathed, while Aegon—Rhaegar's son and the so-called True Dragon—had been reduced to ashes.

"The true dragon does not burn," Samwell declared loudly.

"And you were no dragon."

(End of Chapter)