Chapter 133 Rhaegar Daemon?

Author: Leaning on the railing and letting the wind blow

Chapter 133 Rhaegar Daemon?

The ancient Valyrian bloodline, the bloodline of dragons and gods. The gold mail armor is covered with black plate armor, and the red, gold and orange satin on the dragon's helmet is like a blazing flame. The knights in the entire West have been defeated. Here we are.

At night, he played his silver-stringed ancient harp with his long and delicate fingers. His songs made people cry, and his melancholy amethyst eyes seemed to tell the sadness in his heart.

Rhaegar Targaryen was praised for his wisdom when he was a child, and for his bravery as an adult. He was as dazzling as the sun in the sky.

He was beloved, and the common people cheered him twice as much as Lord Tywin.

Sixteen years was too long. It was so long that Robert Baratheon changed from a brave and handsome man to that fat and disgusting look. It was so long that no one in the Seven Kingdoms could recall the specific appearance of Prince Rhaegar.

But there are some things engraved in memories that will keep coming to mind as soon as they are awakened.

Those eyes are exactly the same.

Blue-purple, melancholy, and that silver hair, she once again compared herself to her beautiful James, for God's sake.

He wasn't Rhaegar, he looked half Dornish, she tried to convince herself.

But that face always brings back certain memories.

Dornishmen?!

Stupid dwarf, she seemed to have thought of some connection with that damn Dornish woman. If it hadn't been for her, how would Rhaegar have fallen in love with the wolf girl.

The wooden sword danced in his hand, and in front of him was Duran Bar-Amon who was sweating profusely.

With a bang, the wooden sword struck the oak shield, and Little Fatty sat down on the ground, his arms trembling.

The wooden sword turned into a sword flower, with one hand behind his back and the other reaching down to support him.

Dulan held his hand and stood up as soon as he felt his body twitch.

Such great strength, Du Lan marveled in his heart.

"Okay, let's go down and rest." Cole said to him. It was also difficult for him to let this little fat man be his sparring partner.

Duran put down his oak shield with relief.

Cole walked over to place the wooden sword, and then he discovered a figure leaning under the pomegranate tree, it was the little devil Tyrion.

He clapped his hands.

Cole threw the sword to him.

Tyrion stood up and jumped away, "I don't want to be your punching bag."

Picking up the sword and putting it on the stand, Cole said: "I have heard of your heroic performance on the battlefield."

"I hope the battlefield you are talking about is on the bed." The little devil touched his nose and suddenly remembered that half of his nose was lost on the battlefield. "If you need someone to accompany you to play swordsmanship, I can ask Bronn to come.

, if he doesn’t pay, you have to pay him.”

"Now Ser Bronn of Blackwater, I can't afford the commission." Cole wiped his sweat with a woolen cloth.

"Meow~" A black cat jumped on his shoulder.

Tyrion looked at the ugly cat with great interest, "You didn't kidnap the woman in the castle, but instead kidnapped a disabled cat."

The black cat seemed to understand Tyrion's words. He arched his back and his hair stood on end.

"Oh, he is really vicious." The little devil took a few steps back. He didn't want to be scratched by the cat and get hurt on his face. He had to get married the day after tomorrow.

Cole rubbed Balerion's head and said, "He suddenly appeared here last night."

"There are a lot of cats in the castle, but he looks a bit old."

This black cat shows its age, although it still appears to be active and ferocious.

He grinned at everyone except Cole.

Letting him stand on his shoulder, Cole led Tyrion into the courtyard.

"Would you like some wine?" Cole asked.

Tyrion shook his big head.

"I remember that you always drink." Cole turned to the servant and ordered, "Prepare some water for me, I want to take a bath."

"I just want to wake up for a while, Cole."

He couldn't help but laugh, and he didn't expect that the little devil who called himself Hailiang was sometimes afraid of getting drunk.

"Okay, let Dulan entertain you for me, I have to wash off this sweaty smell."

"It's better to spread some perfume, so that you will be more popular with ladies. Maybe the person who climbs into your bed tonight will not be a cat, but a sweet-smelling woman." He said jokingly, and then sat on the chair.

"Man, are you his squire?" Tyrion asked casually without paying attention to his coat of arms.

The little fat man suppressed his blush and said, "I am Duran Baraemon."

Tyrion flipped off his clothes and realized that he had made a big mistake. He stood up and apologized, "Please forgive me, sergeant. Forgive me for my poor eyesight."

"Humph" Dulan turned away with an angry face.

Tyrion sat down again awkwardly.

After a long silence, he spoke again, "How old are you, Sir Duran?"

"fifteen."

"A fifteen-year-old knight, this is really impressive." Tyrion praised loudly. "My brother Jaime also joined the Kingsguard at this age."

"Regicide?" Dulan blurted out.

He knew that "The Regicide" was far more famous than "Ser Jaime".

"They say he is the youngest of the Kingsguard."

Unfortunately, he is now a prisoner, far away in the dungeons of Winterfell.

Why not trade with Sansa? Isn't it enough to trade a daughter for a son?

"He's a great swordsman, like a born warrior," Tyrion continued.

"Master Cole is a born warrior. No, he is a warrior."

Duran's retort made Tyrion stunned for a while. Oh, damn, he just wanted to divert the topic. How much does this kid admire Cole.

"Yes, I admit, Cole is a good warrior." He could only make a compromise. Reminiscing about the Eagle's Nest City and the Moon Mountains, Tyrion had to admit that Cole's sword was also very good.

When I first met him, he couldn't even hold a sword. He was good at cooking, but was too weak to be weak. This was Tyrion's evaluation of him.

He had seen Cole practicing his sword on the Great Wall. He had no skills at all. Tyrion even thought that he might be able to teach him a few moves. At least his theory was sufficient.

But what happened next? He led them all the way from the Mingyue Mountains to the Eagle's Nest City.

Cole has changed so much. The taciturn, unconfident, and thin boy seems to have been completely transformed.

Maybe this is the magic of Valyrian blood. Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods will throw a silver coin, even though he is just an illegitimate child.

Tyrion speculates that he is a descendant of Brynden Rivers, Bloodraven.

Should I tell him?

"Lord Cole, I have never been defeated." Duran said proudly, as if that person was himself.

"Boy, do you think he is Daemon Blackfyre?" Tyrion said in his heart.

He was suddenly startled by this idea.

The resemblance was so similar. He compared the traces of the two and realized, good guy, a 'noble illegitimate son', right?

"What are you talking about?" Cole's voice came.

Tyrion looked over and saw that he was wearing black clothes. The coat of arms seemed to be reversed, and the red flames looked like a three-headed dragon breathing white fire.
Chapter completed!