"Find... find a woman?" Young Aegon's cheeks flushed red in an instant, and he stammered as he asked.
"Of course. Only women can truly comfort men," Tyrion said with a grin.
"But..." Aegon glanced around nervously, eyes darting left and right.
Clinton and the others had already gone downstairs. At the top of the staircase, it was just the two of them.
"I can't go. I can't go." He shook his head repeatedly, as if he'd just heard something terrifying.
"Why not? Worried about your aunt? Heh." Tyrion raised a brow and said playfully, "Your Highness, it's obvious. The Dragon Queen is a woman of her word. If she says she won't marry you, she won't. Staying chaste for her won't do you any good."
"No, that's not it," Aegon snapped, irritated by the Imp's teasing expression. He stiffened his neck and said, "I just don't want to go."
Tyrion gave him a peculiar look. "Little prince, you're seventeen, aren't you? Tsk tsk, still a virgin."
"You filthy, shameless pervert! I'm not like you," Aegon said angrily.
"Exactly. We're not the same. I'm a man. You're still a boy. Men achieve great things. Boys go home and drink milk," Tyrion puffed out his chest and said smugly.
—I really do have a gift for making this prince furious.
Looking at Aegon's twisted face and bloodshot eyes, the Imp couldn't help but feel pleased.
Sigh, how many times had he driven this little prince to the verge of tears and rage?
Why did Aegon always remind him of his dear nephew Joffrey?
And why did it make him inexplicably happy every time Aegon flew into a tantrum at his provocation? He'd even take a slap gladly if it meant seeing that reaction.
Smack! Aegon raised his right hand and swung at him.
Tyrion stepped back and caught the slap with his hand.
"Shhh!" He raised a finger to his lips and whispered, "Little prince, do you want your Queen-aunt to see you lose control and strike one of her ministers?"
He tapped the green leather armor on his chest, which bore the sigil of a roaring black dragon, and said meaningfully, "I'm a third-rank Wildfire General now, not Hugo Hightower."
Yes, back when he was still Hugo—on the road from Pentos to Slaver's Bay—if he provoked Aegon and got hit, he wouldn't dodge.
Aegon had the strength advantage. Tyrion couldn't resist him.
"If I hit you, my aunt would probably applaud me," Aegon muttered angrily.
Though he said that, he still glanced nervously toward the upper floor and gave up on slapping the dwarf again.
"One day, Wildfire will reduce you to ashes," he cursed.
"Indeed. Every day brings a chance of being blown sky-high by Wildfire. That's why I say—eat, drink, and be merry while you can," Tyrion sighed and headed straight for the red-brick gates. As he walked, he called out, "The Red Priestesses of the Faith of the Seven—one of a kind. Go or don't, it's up to you."
"Red Priestesses of the Seven?" Aegon exclaimed in surprise.
Hooked!
Tyrion's eyes lit up and he paused in his tracks.
"Devout by day, delightfully wanton by night. Tell me, do you believe in the Seven?"
"Of course. Sister Ashara is my spiritual guide," Aegon replied.
"Then, have you ever dreamed of your spiritual guide at night and quietly changed your underwear the next morning?" Tyrion snickered.
"You—!" Aegon pointed at him, his face burning red.
"Looks like you have." Tyrion laughed knowingly. "No need to be shy. When I was your age, I once dreamed about my older sister—can you believe it?"
"You—beast!" Aegon said, agitated.
"Hah! Didn't your grandparents—your grandpa and grandma—happen to be brother and sister too? How many Targaryen siblings have married each other? You even want to marry your own aunt. Are they all beasts?"
"It's Targaryen tradition!" Aegon argued.
"Then why can't a Lannister learn from a Targaryen? We're even copying you now—sitting the Iron Throne, becoming kings, turning mad."
"The Lannisters won't hold the throne for long, I swear it," Aegon said coldly.
"You don't even have a dragon. What good is a vow? You need your aunt for that."
"I will have one. The dragon has three heads—I am one of them!"
"Words are wind, and prophecy is just more wind." Tyrion glanced toward the harbor and said urgently, "You can choose any of the Red Priestesses at the Pleasure Garden, but if you're late, you'll only get someone's leftovers. I don't have time to waste—just tell me, do you want to become a man or not?"
How was young Aegon supposed to answer that?
"Of course I'm a man," he said defiantly, stiff-necked.
"Then come with me. By tomorrow morning, you'll be a man for real."
With that, the Imp strode out the gates, descending the steps of the Great Pyramid.
Aegon hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth and followed.
"Hey, little prince, having an old hand like me as your mentor—you have no idea how lucky you are."
Hearing footsteps behind him, Tyrion's lips curved into a smug smile.
"You're not my mentor," Aegon muttered, hunching his shoulders and glancing back at the palace gate from time to time.
He was torn—excited at the thought of exploring a new world, but also secretly hoping his foster father would appear and call him back.
"If you knew what my mentor did to me, you wouldn't be acting like this."
Tyrion's tone suddenly shifted, growing strangely somber—so much so that even Aegon noticed.
"Your... mentor? Who was it?" he asked.
"My big brother. And my father," Tyrion said.
"What did they do?"
Tyrion went quiet, his steps slowing, eyes momentarily distant. He murmured, "When I was thirteen, Jaime and I rescued a lovely farm girl from some bandits. She... might've fallen in love with me."
Anyway, I truly loved her.
"I bribed a septon to arrange a simple yet incredibly sweet secret wedding for me and Tysha."
"Damn it! Your first time was so wonderful, and yet you tricked me into giving mine to a whore!"
Aegon cursed and turned to leave.
"Finish hearing the story first," Tyrion grabbed him. "Once you've heard it, you'll be desperate to find a whore and give her your virginity and all your innocence."
"Go on," Aegon said stiffly.
He had changed his mind. The dwarf had done it at thirteen—he himself was already seventeen. He really couldn't call himself a boy anymore.
"Later, my big brother told me that the heroic rescue was a setup. Tysha was just a whore he'd hired to help me experience what it's like between a man and a woman," said Tyrion.
"Uh," Aegon hesitated. "The Kingslayer went too far."
Tyrion stopped and turned back, looking at him with a complicated expression. "I wish he had thought the same back then."
Aegon said nothing. Tyrion continued, "I cried, I raged, I didn't believe it. I wanted Tysha. I was only thirteen at the time, with no thoughts of vengeance or hatred—far more naive than you are now."
"And then?"
"My father wanted me to face reality. So he handed Tysha over to an entire garrison of soldiers. One silver coin per man. One hundred guards, one hundred silver coins."
Aegon shivered. He murmured, "Your father was a beast."
"Well, on that point, we agree," Tyrion nodded with a trace of bitter satisfaction. Then he sighed.
"A beastly father raises a beastly son. I stood there the whole time, watching and watching, until my cock nearly burst. Then I became the one hundred and first.
My father paid Tysha a golden dragon for that.
In his words, 'A Lannister must always stand above others, so his price should be higher too.'"
"You really are a beast," Aegon said coldly.
"Kid, let's play a game later. If you win, I'll shout 'Tyrion is a beast' three times to the sky. How about it?" Tyrion grinned wickedly.
"What kind of game?"
"You'll find out soon enough."
Aegon fell silent again.
By now, they had descended the pyramid.
The Unsullied trainee guarding the gate merely glanced at them and opened the fence.
In front of the plaza, Tyrion found a white-painted carriage with a kerosene lamp hanging from it. He handed the driver a few copper coins and pulled young Aegon inside.
"You seem quite practiced. This isn't your first time, is it?" Aegon asked suspiciously.
"I'm a healthy man. I've been in Slaver's Bay for a while now. Of course it's not my first. Astapor may not be as prosperous as Volantis, but it still has night markets that never close. You should've come out exploring with me long ago," Tyrion replied.
"Female dwarf Penny likes you. We all see it," Aegon said suddenly.
"Penny…" Tyrion froze for a moment, then sighed. "She's a good girl. I don't want to hurt her."
Aegon looked at him strangely.
"Heh…" Tyrion gave a bitter laugh. "Do you know how that story ended?"
"What story?"
"Tysha and Tywin."
"What happened to Tysha?" Aegon asked.
"I wish I knew. I even asked my father about her. We couldn't come to an agreement, so… I killed him," Tyrion said with a shrug.
"You're insane," Aegon stared, shocked. "You killed your father over a whore from over ten years ago?"
"After the trial by combat, Jaime forced Varys to help me escape. Maybe he thought it would be the last farewell with his twisted, pitiful brother. Or maybe he had a sudden pang of guilt. He told me something."
"What was it?"
"He lied to me. Both he and my father lied. Tysha wasn't a whore. At least, before meeting our beastly family, she was just a pure and kind farm girl."
"Ah—" Aegon gasped, eyes wide. "You mean Tysha truly…"
"She didn't even know I was a Lannister. Jaime and I were in plain clothes, dressed like second-rate sellswords.
Maybe she thought I was just the pet of the tall, handsome knight Jaime—a deformed little monkey.
But Tysha didn't care about my dwarf body at all. She even thought it was brave of me—a tiny, pitiful dwarf—to dare fight off brutal bandits."
Tyrion held up three fingers. "In my whole life, I've only met three women like that. The first was Tysha. The second was Shae—fake.
I thought Shae was my second Tysha. I loved her the same way.
Then she personally proved to me how rare Tysha truly was.
The third is Penny. I'm not sure if she would still love me if she weren't a dwarf. But one thing is certain—her love now is just as genuine as Tysha's was."
"If that's true, why don't you marry her?" Aegon asked, puzzled.
"That's the kind of thing only a virgin like you would say. If your heart still holds someone else, you can't bear to draw in another who deserves your care just as much."
Creak—
The carriage stopped. The lewd sounds of the Temple of Desire wafted into their ears.
The driver knocked lightly on the wooden partition and said softly, "Lord Wildfire, we've arrived."
Tyrion jumped out of the carriage, flipping a silver coin in his hand. "Remember this—call me 'Lion King,' 'Mighty Lion,' 'Roaring Lion'—anything but 'Lord Wildfire.'"
"Got it, Lord Wildfire."
The dwarf froze, then stuffed the silver coin back into his pocket.
(End of chapter)
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