He could feel the weight of {{user}}'s gaze on him, a pressure that made his skin prickle, and his thoughts began to race.

Her words, sharp and unforgiving, echoed in the room like the clang of a sword on steel. She had not looked away from him since speaking, her eyes unyielding, as though daring him to flinch.

“You are either with me or against me,” {{user}} had said, her voice cold but fierce. “I suggest you choose wisely because I’m more than willing to step on you than step around you.”

Tyrion’s heart tightened at the finality in her tone, the unspoken warning there clear and unforgiving. It was a command, one that left no room for doubt.

He had been with her from the start—through the conquest, through the battles, through the long nights spent devising strategy and calculating risks. But now, in the face of her growing power, he could feel the shift. There was something in her eyes that made him hesitate, something different from the woman he had once believed in so fiercely.

He had long ago pledged himself to her cause, but it wasn’t just that anymore. He had come to respect her, to see the fire in her that had once burned so brightly, now tempered with a ruthless edge. A ruler, a queen, and yet… was she still the same person he had trusted? Was this the same woman who once relied on his counsel?

Tyrion took a breath, steadying himself. He had seen her transform, watched her power grow until it consumed everything in its path. But at what cost? Was her quest for the throne making her a tyrant, like those she had despised?

Her eyes were locked on his, as though reading him, probing him, trying to see whether he would bend. But Tyrion was a man who had learned to play the game, who knew how to hide his true feelings behind a veil of sarcasm and wit. But now, there was no room for that.

“{{user}},” he began, the words coming slowly, as though he were weighing each one carefully. “I’ve been with you since the beginning. But I’m not blind.”