Fat Sam hadn't changed much. His face was puffed up like a swollen white loaf of bread, and the brown leather armor strapped around his body made him look like an overcooked sausage ready to burst.
And he was still just as gluttonous.
When the guards announced his entry into the hall to meet the Queen, his mouth was still stuffed with food. He chewed furiously while half-running inside.
"Your Grace!"
His bow, however, was perfectly proper.
Dragonstone had long been the Targaryen family seat, and ever since Aegon, the Stone Drum Hall had been furnished with a throne.
A throne carved from stone.
Dany sat on the freezing seat and pointed toward the wight at the foot of the dais. "Sam, take a look at this thing. Do you recognize it?"
Sam waddled forward a few steps, staring blankly at the creature. His small eyes were filled with disbelief.
"A White Walker? Did Your Grace just capture this one beyond the Wall? That was quick!"
"No. It was found in the hold of the Laurel Wind—the very one you shipped to Braavos."
Dany recounted the events that had taken place. Sam listened, dumbfounded.
"But why?" he muttered in confusion.
Dany studied the plump figure below her throne and countered, "That's what I want to know. Why would a White Walker care about you?"
"I don't know!" Suddenly, Sam's face changed, and he blurted out, "Could it be the Black Gate?"
"What Black Gate?" Old Crab asked curiously.
"I can't say. It's the Night's Watch's secret. I can't tell anyone."
Sam shook his head repeatedly, which only piqued everyone's curiosity.
Dany rubbed her forehead with a sigh. "Do you carry anything special with you? Any special people?"
"Other than the gold Your Grace gave to the Night's Watch, and a few books about the Long Night I found at Castle Black, I have nothing," Sam answered after thinking for a moment.
"As for people… aside from Dareon, it's only Gilly and her son."
"Gilly's son?" Dany's eyes lit up. She ordered the guards, "Bring Gilly and her child inside."
Gilly was waiting outside the hall. She soon entered, clutching her child in her left arm while nervously balancing a white porcelain plate in her right.
"Gilly, you—hm? That plate in your hand…" The Dragon Queen's question cut off abruptly.
"Ah, forgive me, Your Grace! I was so nervous I forgot to leave it outside." Gilly flushed crimson, at a loss for what to do.
"No need to panic. I'm just asking—was that plate brought from the Laurel Wind?"
Dany waved her hand, pointing at the plate, which now held only a few empty oyster shells. Her lips twitched slightly.
"Your Grace, that's mine. The plate is mine," Sam hurried forward, took the dish from Gilly, and placed it on the dais. He also lifted the child from her arms and whispered to his lover, "Quick, use the manners I taught you before. Greet the Queen properly."
"Oh!" The wildling girl grabbed her skirt and made a very clumsy attempt at a lady's curtsy.
Back when Sam went to King's Landing's Red Keep to meet Lord Tarly, he had also brought the wildling woman and her child.
Before the audience with his father, Sam had taught Gilly a few courtly manners.
In addition to warning his father about the threat of the White Walkers and denouncing the Citadel's shamelessness, Sam had bluntly declared, "Though I am of the Night's Watch, and though we swear never to wed, I now have a wildling lover—and even a bastard son. Why don't you keep him here, Father? Raise him into a knight?"
Sam was perhaps the most cowardly yet most courageous fat man in A Song of Ice and Fire.
At his weakest, he was like dough, kneaded by anyone. At his bravest, he fought White Walkers, defied the Dragon Queen and Stannis over the Black Gate, rebuked his father, stole the family sword—he dared everything.
Lord Tarly was so enraged by his son's shamelessness that he nearly burst a lung. Sword in hand, he drove Sam out.
That was why Sam had returned so quickly.
That was why he was so hungry.
"When I saw my father in King's Landing, he was furious. If I hadn't declared that I bore the duty of delivering messages to the Citadel and hiring maesters for the Wall, he might truly have killed me.
Of course, he didn't let me stay for lunch, so I was starving.
Back at the docks, I saw the Laurel Wind empty. Out of curiosity, I went aboard and found a plate of shellfish—Captain Kughuru's special sauce, they said. I heard even Emperor Buhao loved it.
I'd been fortunate to be hosted twice by the Captain myself, and the flavor was so unique I couldn't resist taking the plate."
Sam squinted apologetically toward the black captain. "Captain, you said the sauce doesn't keep well. It spoils if left too long. So I ate your oysters. That's all right, isn't it?"
"N-no…" Kughuru stammered, struggling to form words.
Dany glanced at the red sauce at the corner of Sam's lips and swallowed. "Was it good?"
"Delicious! Juicy and rich, with a unique icy coolness. The meat was chewy, and once I swallowed, a burning heat spread through me. Superb!" Sam said with bliss written all over his face.
"Urgh…" Old Crab went pale, clutching his mouth as though to vomit.
Bronn stared at Sam in horror, as though looking at some man-eating monster.
Kojja stammered, "Sam, you… you ate—"
Dany waved her hand, cutting her off. "Forget it. He no longer needs to restrict himself. He's reached the point where he can eat whatever he wants."
She then looked at Gilly, noticing her lips were clean, and asked curiously, "Did you eat any?"
Sam, baffled by everyone's reaction, casually answered, "She wasn't feeling well, so she didn't want to eat."
"Not feeling well?"
"Alas, I had hoped my father would take in Gilly and the child. But he flew into a rage, drew his sword, and tried to kill them both. He cursed terribly, too," Sam said dejectedly.
"That child isn't yours," Dany remarked.
"I love Gilly. I'm willing to be the boy's father. If possible, I hope he can inherit my name and my estate.
My mother left me a manor. One day, the boy can become a landed knight." Sam spoke with firm conviction.
"Sam…" Gilly's eyes welled with tears.
Sam's parents were far from ordinary. His father's titles alone spoke volumes: a renowned general of the realm, third lord of the Riverlands, and a member of the royal council in King's Landing. His mother, too, came from an illustrious line, the eldest daughter of the ancient and prestigious House Florent, often nicknamed the "Foxes."
Yes, the very Florents whose ancestral seat of Brightwater Keep had been seized by the Tyrells.
As the legitimate eldest daughter of such a noble family, Sam's mother certainly did not marry into House Tarly empty-handed.
In fact, Selyse Florent, who married Stannis Baratheon, was Sam's maternal aunt, making Sam and Lady Lyanna Mormont's mother, Rylene Florent, first cousins.
And that, once again, tied the Tarlys to the Mormonts.
Such was the tangled web of Westerosi nobility.
"Sam, are you certain? If not, I can, in the name of the Queen, grant the child the surname 'Tarly,'" Daenerys said, her expression uncertain.
"That would be wonderful," Sam replied happily, eager to accept.
"No!" Gilly's face shifted several times before she broke down in tears, unable to bear the weight of some hidden truth.
"What's wrong, Gilly?" Sam asked anxiously.
"The child… he's not mine. He's Mance Rayder's son, born on the battlefield. He is the wildling prince!" Gilly sobbed.
"What?" Sam was stunned, and even Daenerys was taken aback.
"The Lord Commander feared the king with the burning heart would burn the little prince alive. The boy carries the blood of kings. So he switched him with my son… wuuuh…"
"Jon! How could he do such a thing!" Sam cried out in shock and anger.
"He said it was for the greater good. When the Red Woman tried to burn my child, he would confess the truth to the king."
"Alas!" Sam stamped his foot in despair.
With his wit, it wasn't difficult to discern Jon's reasoning, nor to see that his plan would likely succeed. King Stannis was stern but fair; he would not kill a child, even a wildling prince, out of wrath.
"Could it be…"
Daenerys once more stepped down from her throne and walked toward the White Walker, who was staring intently at the infant in Sam's arms.
"You seek the child of the King-Beyond-the-Wall? Does king's blood also hold power over White Walkers?" Daenerys asked in alarm.
The White Walker gave her a cold glance, then closed its eyes again.
At last, it had managed to deceive her.
Even a heart of ice could harbor a flicker of satisfaction.
"The child will remain on Dragonstone. On my land, no one can touch him," Daenerys declared.
"I still want to go with Sam to the Citadel," Gilly said softly.
"You intend to go to the Citadel?" Daenerys frowned at Sam.
"Now that we've captured a White Walker, I must let the maesters study it," Sam explained, pointing at the creature.
"The Citadel has already been dissolved by the Queen. Whether they understand or not hardly matters anymore. Their reputation across the Seven Kingdoms is in ruins. Better not to go!" grumbled Old Crab.
"Still, every noble house keeps a maester. They control the ravenry and all the realm's communications. Their voices carry weight.
And the Wall needs maesters too. Every castle requires one to tend the ravens.
My journey to Oldtown is partly to bring a group of maesters back to the North," Sam said helplessly.
"Very well," Daenerys nodded. "Later I shall forge you a chest enchanted with sealing wards."
After Quaithe's reminder, Daenerys had experimented with the "Brandon's Binding Sigil."
It did indeed ward off magical powers and was especially effective at suppressing dark forces.
If inscribed into a castle's foundation and walls, the spell could prevent sorcerers outside from unleashing their witchcraft upon its lord. Storm's End was proof enough: even the mighty Red Priestess had needed Davos to smuggle her inside before she could perform her blood magic.
"This child…" Sam looked down at the infant in his arms with conflicted feelings.
He was willing enough to be a stepfather, but this was different. Raising Craster's son came with the "compensation" of Craster's daughters. Taking on Mance Rayder's son brought him no such benefit. Could he possibly expect favors from Mance's wife as well?
"Lord Bronn of Blackwater's wife, Lollys, also has a son. She could shelter the wildling prince for now," Daenerys suggested, turning toward Bronn.
Bronn felt as though he had just eaten chocolate laced with dung. The Dragon Queen's trust thrilled him, and the child's royal bloodline was more than enough to honor his household. Yet Lollys's son wasn't truly his, and this boy wasn't either.
Was Bronn destined to raise other men's sons for the rest of his life?
"Your Grace, rest assured. According to Westerosi custom, I will take this child as my foster son," Lord Bronn said with exaggerated delight.
"Very well," Daenerys nodded.
After Daenerys dismissed the council, Marwyn arrived with an oak chest and several large chunks of dragonglass.
Right there in the hall, Daenerys melted the dragonglass into the wood, forging a powerful warded chest.
As the Dragon Queen worked tirelessly, Sam suddenly licked his lips and pointed at the steps of the throne, where a large pile of shells lay. "Your Grace, there's a heap of oysters and clams over there. If we don't eat them soon, they'll spoil."
Daenerys glanced at the shells. They were what had been cleaned from the White Walker's body.
"If you want to eat them, go ahead."
Her tone was much like that of a doctor consoling the family of a dying patient: the old man has only a few days left, let him eat whatever he craves—there's no need for restrictions anymore.
(End of chapter)
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