Game of Thrones: Rise of the Supreme Dragon Queen

"Your Grace Daenerys, while Tywin Lannister was undoubtedly hateful, you did not lose your nephew, Aegon."

A flicker of resolve crossed Clinton's weathered face as he stood up, pulled the young Griff to his feet, and solemnly introduced him to Daenerys. "Your Grace, this is the son of your brother, Prince Rhaegar, and Princess Elia—Aegon Targaryen!"

"Uh, say that again?" Daenerys froze. "The son of Rhaegar and who?"

Young Griff broke free from his foster father's hand, stood tall with shoulders back, and locked eyes with the Dragon Queen. His deep violet irises met her suspicious amethyst gaze without flinching.

"I am Aegon—Aegon Targaryen. My father was Rhaegar Targaryen, and my mother was Princess Elia of Dorne," he declared loudly.

"Seven Hells, you're all mad!" Jorah Mormont slapped his forehead in disbelief. "Everyone knows Prince Rhaegar's children were killed by Duke Tywin. Coming here pretending to be Prince Aegon—you think Her Majesty the Queen is a fool?"

"I didn't die!" Young Griff straightened his back, raised his chin high, as if daring the White Knight to recognize the silver hair and purple eyes, along with the prince's righteous fury etched on his face.

"Tell me everything," Daenerys said.

Young Griff began, "Before Duke Tywin entered the city, Lord Varys found a drunken tanner near Flea Bottom whose wife had died in childbirth.

The man had many sons but had never tasted golden Arbor wine.

For a single cask of Arbor gold, he sold his youngest son to Lord Varys.

Varys then handed the Flea Bottom boy to my lady mother and took me away."

That Varys had anticipated Tywin would act against his old friend Aerys was not something Daenerys doubted.

In fact, when Tywin marched on King's Landing, Varys had urged the Mad King not to open the gates, not to let the Lannister army in.

But Grand Maester Pycelle had already pledged himself to Tywin—back when Tywin was Hand, he had persuaded the indecisive king to welcome the Westerland army into the city.

Deep down, even the Mad King knew his old friend could no longer be trusted—otherwise he wouldn't have planted wildfire around the city or ordered Ser Jaime to kill Tywin and take command of the Lannister forces. (The Mad King was never stupid—he was simply mad.)

By then, Rhaegar had already fallen at the Trident, and Eddard Stark's army arrived almost at the same time as Tywin's.

The Mad King had no other choice.

As an aside, the Mad King's order for Jaime to kill Tywin may seem insane and foolish, but it wasn't entirely without reason.

First, it was his only shot at turning the tide.

If Jaime, with royal orders, killed Tywin, he might gain control of the Westerland army (Jaime being Tywin's only son).

With that army, King's Landing might be defended.

Then, if reinforcements from Dorne or the Reach arrived in time, the Mad King could have had a real chance of turning things around.

Second, the Mad King had been spoiled by growing up in the "Golden Age of Knights."

The White Bull, the Sword of the Morning, Fearless Barristan—nine Kingsguard knights in total had served Aerys.

Each was valiant and loyal, paragons of virtue and might, unwavering in their obedience to the king.

You could say that while Aerys was far from the strongest king in history, his Kingsguard was the most powerful, most loyal, and most flawless lineup in the three-hundred-year history of the order.

Had it been someone like Barristan or the White Bull instead of Jaime, they might really have obeyed the king and killed their own father—if they were sure he intended treason against the crown.

But enough digression.

According to the information Daenerys had gathered about Robert's Rebellion, if Varys had truly wanted to preserve the Targaryen bloodline, the baby swap was indeed possible.

Varys certainly had the capability to pull it off.

The question was whether Varys was ever truly loyal to House Targaryen.

Was this a counterfeit version of The Orphan of Zhao, or was it the classic tale of The Prince and the Pauper?

Daenerys narrowed her eyes, her gaze thoughtful. "It's certainly a legendary tale. But I still have one question—what about your sister, Rhaenys?"

Princess Elia had two children: four-year-old Princess Rhaenys, and baby Aegon, not yet a year old.

(Rhaegar was truly awful—he gave his wife a metaphorical crown of horns in public while she was pregnant. Even after she gave birth and was still in confinement, he openly flaunted his affair with his mistress, not returning home for a year, completely ignoring Robert's rebellion.)

"This…" Young Griff looked toward his foster father.

Clinton replied, "Princess Rhaenys was too old to be convincingly swapped. And at the time, Lord Varys was acting only as a precaution. He wasn't sure Duke Tywin would go so far as to murder innocent children."

As he spoke, he carefully pulled out a letter wrapped in parchment from inside his coat, sealed with red wax.

"You may read this letter. It's from Varys—addressed to you."

Ser Jorah stepped forward to take the letter, and though Clinton hesitated for a brief moment, he handed it over.

In front of everyone, Jorah drew a dagger from his belt, cut open the seal, read through the letter, then frowned and handed it to Daenerys.

It was a handwritten letter from Varys, only a single page, but filled with detailed explanation of his motives and actions in swapping the babies.

At the end, he even earnestly offered a suggestion: following the example of Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters, the Dragon Queen should marry young Aegon to preserve the pure Targaryen bloodline and ultimately reconquer Westeros and reclaim the Iron Throne.

"Sit down for now," Daenerys said, lost in thought as she waved her hand. "Aegon, Ser Clinton, take a seat. Irri, go to the Dragonpit and bring Maester Aemon here."

Irri didn't leave immediately. She simply walked to the stairs, gave a few instructions to the Unsullied stationed there, then returned.

The Dothraki handmaid glanced at young Aegon with a puzzled expression and hesitantly asked, "Khaleesi, it's about time… shall we still serve the meal?"

Making char siu rice was just a coincidence.

Under normal circumstances, Daenerys would only dine with her subjects after sunset, once the Great Bear had returned.

Moreover, the Dragon Queen had cooked dozens of bowls of char siu egg rice but hadn't eaten a single one herself.

Daenerys nodded and said, "Make it a proper meal. Send a portion to those fire mages as well. The char siu rice was just for show—there wasn't enough, and it's not filling.

Also, let the mages know that I have important guests tonight. I'll officially receive them tomorrow.

Oh, and bring up a few bottles of Arbor Gold from the wine cellar."

"I really wasn't full earlier. A hearty meal with fine wine sounds perfect," the dwarf said with a grin.

Clinton and Young Aegon looked solemn, their lips pressed tightly together.

Tyrion, however, had recovered from his earlier gloom and returned to his usual flippant self.

"Maester Aemon—are we talking about that Maester Aemon? The one from the Wall?" he asked, blinking his mismatched eyes with curiosity.

"Haha, he still remembers you!" Daenerys laughed.

"Seven hells, Your Grace, you really went to the Wall? What for? To see the White Walkers?" Tyrion exclaimed.

Jorah Mormont dragged a chair over and sat beside Daenerys, casting a strange look at the Imp.

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"Not just the Wall—I've also been to Oldtown, King's Landing, and the Riverlands. Just a few days ago, I even saw your sister," Daenerys said.

Tyrion's expression changed. It was complicated, hard to tell if he felt sorrow or joy.

In a hoarse voice, he asked, "Did you… kill her?"

"Do you want her dead?" Daenerys asked curiously.

Tyrion didn't hesitate for a second. "Of course. A sister is never more lovable than when she's headless."

"Beast! Only a beast would kill his nephew and father, and still want his sister dead," Jorah said with contempt.

Tyrion was not offended. In fact, he smiled smugly. "Ser Knight, you weren't here earlier, so you missed how Her Grace praised me for shooting my dear father. I believe Her Majesty needs a charming little beast like me—one who's slain both kin and king."

Daenerys stared into Tyrion's eyes for a long moment before shaking her head. "You didn't kill Joffrey, and killing Tywin wasn't your true intent. Maybe you were acting on impulse back then, but now it seems you're teetering on the edge of regret?"

"I never regret it!" Tyrion shouted. "The moment I pulled that trigger, I knew I would remember it forever. It was the happiest moment of my life."

"Then you do regret it," Daenerys said, nodding. "And that makes sense—killing one's father is such a betrayal of natural order that any normal person would be tormented by it."

"I—" Tyrion opened his mouth wide but didn't know what to say.

"Joffrey wasn't killed by him?" Young Aegon suddenly asked.

Daenerys gave her 'suspected nephew' a glance and shook her head. "No."

"Why not?" Tyrion asked, puzzled.

"No one would commit regicide or kin-slaying in broad daylight. At the very least, you wouldn't be that foolish or mad."

"Hah. But my sister, my father, my brother—they all believed I was that foolish, that mad," Tyrion said with a twisted grin.

"To be honest, I think your sister and brother…" Daenerys tapped her temple. "...have nothing up here."

"No, not nothing—just full of crap," Tyrion corrected her with a straight face.

"Haha…"

Tyrion's expression changed again. He asked, "Are you saying my father knew I was innocent?"

"Obviously."

Clinton was shocked. "Then why did Lord Tywin…"

"Now you understand why I was able to pull the trigger?" Tyrion said with a twisted smile.

He then asked, "Tell me—how did my dear sister die? Was she beheaded or eaten by a dragon?"

"I didn't kill her."

"Why not? Didn't you say the blood feud between Targaryen and Lannister can only be washed away with blood? Don't tell me she killed a Lannister too—Jaime, maybe? Just to win your favor?" Tyrion asked, frowning.

"Something like that," Daenerys said with a smile and a nod.

"She really killed Jaime?!" The playful grin on Tyrion's face vanished. He froze.

Daenerys smiled sweetly. "Not yet. But at the rate your sister hops into bed with strange men, it's only a matter of time.

I've realized that your sister is so stupid and so insane that she's more useful alive than dead.

One Cersei Lannister causes more damage to House Lannister than three dragons.

Dragons only unite the Lannisters, make them stand together to resist external threats, even awaken courage and wisdom they never had.

But your sister…"

"Hahahahaha…"

Daenerys laughed loudly as Tyrion stared at her, dumbfounded. "Watching your sister perform on the Iron Throne is more entertaining than any stage play.

Watching her destroy the foundations of Casterly Rock, one step at a time… watching her make new enemies…

Watching her throw away the prestige and honor built by generations of Lannisters…

Watching her make the people of King's Landing and all Seven Kingdoms hate the Lannisters…

She's such a rare and brilliant disaster that I'm too busy protecting her to even consider killing her."

Tyrion.

(End of chapter)

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