After frowning in thought for a moment, old Aemon sighed and said, "What are you trying to say? Or rather, what have you learned?"
Tyrion had been staring at him the whole time. He suspected the old man knew something but was deliberately hiding it.
"You know that the Queen sent me undercover. Something unexpected happened, and Jenny took an interest in my High Valyrian bloodline. She planted the embryo of Balerion's faith in my sea of consciousness," Tyrion said slowly.
"You heard the rumors about Aerys and your mother, so you suspect that you are their bastard?" old Aemon asked directly.
Tyrion was startled for a moment, then gave a bitter smile. "A dwarf is already as lowly as a bastard. So what would a bastard dwarf be considered? Worse than a beast?"
Aemon looked at him deeply and said, "You sound very certain."
The dwarf returned the deep gaze. He seemed to understand something, and his tone became complicated.
"Before, I was a magical idiot and understood nothing.
Now I understand. The reason Jenny and the remnants of Valyria joined the allied forces was only because Balerion wanted to seize the Dragon Queen's unique 'Unburnt' blood.
If I am her elder bastard brother, then Jenny's attention toward me has a perfect explanation.
After all, our House Lannister has not had a marriage alliance with the Targaryens for three hundred years."
"We, Lannister," Aemon repeated softly, savoring the words.
A trace of sorrow flashed through Tyrion's eyes. With a meaningful tone, he said, "I understand my own identity."
In other words, neither you nor the Dragon Queen needs to worry. I will not try to take advantage of the 'Targaryen World Empire' as the Mad King's son and the Queen's brother.
Aemon understood that the dwarf understood that they had long known his identity.
When the dwarf guessed his own identity, Aemon had no intention of hiding that he had long known the truth about him.
"Do you know about the witch's lens?" Aemon asked.
Tyrion's pupils shrank. With difficulty he said, "The one that can test genes… You already knew back then?"
Aemon's eyes were clear, and he did not avoid the question.
"When you contracted greyscale, Daenerys took your blood to test its reaction to medicine. By accident, she discovered that your blood contained many genes similar to hers.
She grew up in the Free Cities and knew little about the rumors widely spread in King's Landing. So she was shocked. It seemed completely unbelievable.
In the end, like you, she also asked Aerys's White Knight, Ser Barristan."
"So it's true. So that's how it is…" Tyrion felt a mixture of emotions.
Joy?
A little. At least he had not killed his own father.
Pain?
It surged over him like a tidal wave. He had killed a father who could tolerate the identity of his bastard child.
After that came confusion and resentment.
What did his existence amount to? What meaning did it have?
They had known long ago, yet they concealed it from him and still treated him that way.
Aemon had lived too long. Seeing the dwarf's expression, he could already guess what he was thinking.
"Daenerys intended to tell you the truth immediately, but I stopped her," he said.
Tyrion suddenly raised his head and glared at the old man. "Why?"
"I am old. I truly do not want to see another dragon fight before I die." Aemon sighed. A trace of helplessness flashed in his aged eyes. "Think back to the situation at that time. Aegon was determined to claim the Iron Throne, and deep within your nature lies a powerful desire for power."
"I do not!" Tyrion interrupted excitedly.
Aemon stared steadily into the dwarf's eyes and said with certainty, "Do not deny it. The desire for power is not a flaw, and admitting it is not shameful.
Think carefully. Deep in your heart, is there a hollow that needs power to fill it, yet in truth it can never be filled?"
"You are a standard Lannister and also a qualified true dragon. The desires of lion and dragon converge within you."
"You've grown senile. I have no interest in the Iron Throne!" Tyrion said with a grin.
His body was trembling. His hands hanging at his sides were trembling. His heart was trembling as well.
Am I really like Littlefinger, old Lord Tywin, the Queen of Thorns, and Cersei, obsessed with power?
No!
"Tyrion, desiring power is nothing to be ashamed of. You are a dwarf and you hope to gain the recognition of others. The only way for a dwarf to become a giant is through power."
"Or by a god descending to the mortal world," Tyrion said with a twisted smile. "That day I expanded to one meter sixty!"
Old Aemon said expressionlessly, "If Aegon, the son of Rhaegar, learns that you are the son of Aerys, what do you think he will think?
You should understand that keeping things as they are benefits all of you.
Even the Mad King's bastard son cannot be as glorious as Tywin's son. If you never knew your identity, you would never clash with Aegon."
"That only benefits Daenerys, does it not?" Tyrion sneered.
"She has the witch's lens, so she must also know Aegon's identity, yet she deliberately conceals it.
Aegon helps her attract the allied forces' firepower, and what about me? I keep being assigned missions meant to send me to my death.
You would rather both of us die so we will not interfere with the Dragon Queen's grand imperial ambitions."
Aemon did not grow angry. Instead, he smiled strangely.
"It seems you care quite a bit about your Targaryen bloodline."
If he truly did not care at all, the dwarf would not be angry. And if he were not angry to the point of feeling wronged, he would not say such bitter words.
"I do not care about any bloodline. But your act of concealing the truth makes me furious," Tyrion said coldly.
"Aegon has Targaryen blood. The witch's lens only discovered that his true dragon blood is far weaker than Daenerys's.
That proves nothing. After all, there is a generation between them, and his mother Elia was not a Targaryen.
If Illyrio had not taken the initiative to reveal the secret, no one could be completely certain of his true identity."
Suddenly, Aemon noticed a change in the dwarf's expression: indifference mixed with mockery.
His heart stirred, and he probed cautiously.
"You also guessed long ago that Aegon is not Rhaegar's son?"
"Also?" Tyrion exclaimed in surprise.
Aemon's expression was complicated. "Perhaps they looked down on Daenerys as a frail girl. Perhaps Aegon's identity as the Red Dragon would inevitably be revealed. Illyrio made every effort to hide Aegon's existence, yet he did not care much about concealing his true identity.
Daenerys and Viserys wandered through the Free Cities like beggars, while Aegon received the education of an elite noble from childhood and even had Ashara guiding his faith.
The Golden Company mocked Viserys when he begged for help, yet they swore a blood oath of loyalty to Aegon.
Their completely different attitudes toward Aegon compared with Daenerys and Viserys show that Illyrio had always regarded the latter two as mere pawns and cannon fodder.
Yet Daenerys and Viserys are the true direct descendants of House Targaryen. Any 'loyal subject' who intended to restore the Targaryen dynasty should never have treated them that way.
Not even for Rhaegar would it be justified.
After all, Rhaegar committed a grave mistake serious enough to strip him of the right to inherit the Iron Throne, let alone his son.
Therefore, Illyrio cannot possibly be a friend of the Targaryens."
"The flaw is indeed quite obvious, but Illyrio cannot entirely be blamed for being careless," the dwarf could not help sighing. "Before the age of fourteen, Daenerys was completely different from the Dragon Queen she became after hatching the dragons. He could toy with the fate of the last princess, but before a true dragon he could only kneel and tremble."
"A Targaryen with dragons is the complete form," old Aemon said as if it were self-evident.
"So a dragonless dwarf bastard like me deserves to die?" Tyrion sneered.
"Don't you know what you've done? If you were merely a Lannister and dared to take Tessa away from Slaver's Bay, the Black Dread would have swallowed you whole already," old Aemon replied irritably.
Tyrion's face flushed red. "She told me to go to Sothoryos."
"Ser Clinton went, and did he die? Tyrion, you must understand that she has no reason to protect you.
In terms of age, you are a whole generation older than she is. If you had any ability, you should be the one protecting her. Instead, you are destitute and miserable, surviving on her charity.
In terms of acquaintance, you were complete strangers before this, and you still carry the deep brand of House Lannister. Do you not know the relationship between the Lannisters and the Targaryens?
In terms of status, she is the ruler and you are the subject.
When Tywin was still alive, did he ever allow you to stand on equal footing with Jaime?
Yet you cannot even perform the duties of a subject properly, and you still have the nerve to shout here." Old Aemon rebuked him mercilessly.
Tyrion had no words to answer.
"You're right. This younger Queen sister is at least a bit better than that older Queen sister," he said with self-mockery.
"You are mistaken. She wanted to reveal your identity publicly. I was the one who stopped her," old Aemon said calmly.
Just a week earlier, during a speech in the People's Square, the Dragon Queen announced the plan for the "Great Anti-Cold Campaign" to more than 1.5 million people across the three cities of Slaver's Bay.
This was the second "national strategic policy" following the "Great Leap Forward in Agricultural Production."
In fact, the Great Leap Forward and the Anti-Cold Campaign were two steps under the overall strategy of "surviving the Long Night."
"The existing grain reserves in Slaver's Bay are enough to last at least ten years. We also have ocean fishing. For the next decade, we do not need to worry about food.
Therefore, the first of the three great threats of the Long Night, food shortages, can be set aside for now.
The second threat, the Others, have at least not yet crossed the Narrow Sea, so there is no need to worry about them either.
Only the final great threat remains: keeping warm.
From now on, the primary task of the council and government officials is to solve the problem of protection against the cold."
That evening, after a simple yet plentiful dinner, the Dragon Queen gathered the recent survey reports on the living conditions of soldiers and civilians in Slaver's Bay and summoned her ministers to study the problem of staying warm.
The dwarf sat to the side, listening.
He knew that Sister Dany already knew he was aware of his own identity.
Yet during the evening court banquet, she behaved as she always had. She was neither particularly close to him nor distant, poised and natural, without the slightest embarrassment. At least, she did not seem embarrassed, though he himself certainly felt it.
He did not know what she was thinking, but as he watched her speaking confidently on the platform, an inexplicable sense of pride rose in his heart.
Heh, such an unparalleled queen in both wisdom and courage is my sister!
"In villages near the forests on the outskirts of Meereen, heated kang beds can be constructed. The design blueprint for the kang is on page seventeen."
The sound of pages turning filled the meeting room. The dwarf snapped out of his foolish grin and opened the document beside him to page seventeen. Sure enough, there was a strange rectangular brick bed drawn with dotted lines.
The kang had a stove opening and a smoke outlet. The stove opening was used to burn firewood. The smoke and hot air passed through the channels within the kang, heating the stone slabs above, and the smoke was finally expelled outdoors through a chimney connected to the smoke outlet.
The dwarf was very intelligent and immediately understood the advantages of such a kang.
First, it saves firewood. Every household already makes a fire to cook, so this makes two uses of one action, fully utilizing the heat from the stove.
Second, the kang has very low requirements for firewood.
Fireplaces in castles must burn dry split logs. Many nobles even have specific requirements for the type of wood, since different woods produce different scents when burning.
A kang, however, does not need to worry about smoke. Freshly cut wet wood, branches, and even leaves can be stuffed inside.
This is especially important during the Long Night, because without sunlight the air is damp and cold, and newly cut trees might take years to dry.
(End of Chapter)
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