In the dim cellar, the change in the sky couldn’t be perceived, but it was already getting late. Not much time remained for voting at Castle Black.

Over two hundred votes had yet to be cast. If no decision was made before dinner, those votes would be considered abstentions. In that case, Yohn Royce might surpass the “two-thirds” threshold with more than five hundred votes, thus securing the Lord Commander’s seat by alternative means.

Aegor had no intention of rushing back to Castle Black just to unleash a tirade that would thoroughly offend the conservative leaders, only to lose the election due to lack of time, rendering it all meaningless.

He stopped arguing with Ser Denys Mallister, approached Robb, and led them out of the hall under the pretense of showing them around Castle Black and arranging accommodations, leaving the space for voting to continue.

Know when to stop.

What needed to be said had already been said. What could be done would have to wait until sunset… The rest was up to Jon, Sam, and the others who had remained at Castle Black. As long as Aegor left the hall, no matter what his opponents said or did, without him present to respond, it would amount to nothing more than the barking of defeated dogs, unable to erase or suppress the impact he had made by publicly confronting the two Commanders.

—

Robb first went to the top of the Wall.

The existence of wights was already acknowledged in the North, but the shock of seeing one kept in a wooden cage by Commander Mormont, placed on a cart and separated by railings, was nothing compared to standing atop the Wall and looking down upon the battlefield—remnants of the first major assault on the Wall by the dead in thousands of years. It was like comparing earth and sky, utterly different.

The mobile wights had long been recalled to the Haunted Forest by the White Walkers and were likely now hunting down the last living creatures in that frozen land. Though the region north of the Wall was extremely cold, the dry climate meant that even a few light snowfalls hadn’t completely buried the battlefield’s remains. Charred corpses, burned by wildfire and oil, dotted the snowy expanse beneath the Wall. Some were shaped like ordinary people, others grotesquely twisted. The wooden palisade the Night’s Watch had built to temporarily house the Wildlings had been completely reduced to ash by the combined forces of flame and magic. Even with snow covering the ruins, the darkened areas were still visible. From atop the Wall, it looked as if some giant beast had stained the gate’s location outside the Wall with a massive blot of ink, marking the tunnel’s entrance for all to see.

This was Robb’s first time standing atop the Wall.

The awe of witnessing humanity’s greatest creation firsthand, coupled with the emotional impact of seeing the aftermath of a life-and-death battle, struck harder than either alone.

For thousands of years, no Warden of the North had ever encountered such a crisis. The phrase “an unprecedented threat” ceased to be just a public concern or political platitude. It was now a very real challenge, standing right in front of them. And the Stark family motto—Winter is Coming—at this moment shifted from a mere reminder to remain vigilant into a literal description of reality.

“It really is… Winter is coming.” Robb’s expression grew solemn. He realized now that everything Aegor had told him earlier was no exaggeration or alarmism. If anything, the situation might be even worse than he had imagined.

“No, my lord. Winter has already arrived.” Aegor shook his head. “Before we captured a wight and brought it before the King and the lords of the Seven Kingdoms as proof of the coming threat, the people Beyond the Wall had already been fighting those abominations for over a year. They saw the dead grow in number from a few to thousands, and they’ve learned how to handle them. When united and prepared, even the White Walkers dared only attack after nightfall. But the day the wights launched their major assault happened to be the same day the last group of surrendering Wildlings entered the castle. Our enemies were clever. They understood that when humans have a path of retreat, their will to resist crumbles—they focus only on escape. That perfectly timed attack nearly swept the panicked Free Folk right into the tunnel through Castle Black. It was Commander Mormont who ordered the gates shut at the crucial moment, preventing things from spiraling out of control.”

“I’ve heard about that. If I recall, didn’t the tribe that attacked Commander Mormont have people who were trapped outside the gate when it closed?”

Aegor nodded. “I grieve for those who lost loved ones, but that doesn’t justify violating the laws of the Gift and creating trouble for us. I’ve already ordered heightened vigilance and tighter supervision over the remaining tribes who also lost people outside the gate, to ensure they don’t jeopardize the stability of the Gift.”

“That’s good,” Robb said with a nod, pulling Arya back from where she was leaning too far over the Wall’s edge, seemingly about to be swept away by the wind.

The girl looked a bit troubled. “Are there still people beyond the Wall?”

“In theory, yes. Likely a few thousand, maybe ten thousand Wildlings didn’t trust the King-Beyond-the-Wall or the Night’s Watch. They left the main group and went their own way.”

“Then aren’t they doomed?”

“Perhaps. But everyone must live with their choices.”

…

The fate of thousands—perhaps tens of thousands—summed up in a single, detached sentence. Arya, rarely exposed to the cruel realities of the world thanks to those who protected her, went quiet for a moment, then mumbled, “Those down there… can’t someone go gather their bodies?”

“We could. But the White Walkers wield magic that can freeze steel until it shatters. A few gates alone aren’t enough. Once the last living person passed through the Wall, we sealed the passage,” Aegor answered frankly—not only to address Arya’s question, but also to make his stance clear to Robb. “I’m a realist. Compared to those who have died outside the Wall, or those who refused to surrender and may still be struggling to survive, I care more about the people inside the Wall who are still alive. In this cold weather, the corpses won’t rot or cause disease or stench. So rather than risk everything to collect the bodies of fallen enemies and allies, I believe the Night’s Watch’s future policy should focus on holding the Wall and safeguarding the brothers of the Night’s Watch, the people of the Gift… and the North.”

He paused for a moment, then added, “Commander Mormont approved of this approach, which is why we created the Gift resettlement plan, signed the loan agreement with Braavos… and made all those arrangements along the Wall.”

If someone else became Lord Commander, these long-term defenses would likely be overturned or drastically altered… Saying this outright would be too forward. It was better if Robb came to the conclusion himself.

“Good. Tell me more about your other defensive plans for the Wall.”

—

To the Night’s Watch, the Warden of the North was a true king. Though wary of Aegor’s close relationship with House Stark, the senior officers of Castle Black—having received advance notice from Winterfell—were prepared for the visit. With the cooperation of Bowen Marsh, Othell Yarwyck, and others, Aegor led Robb on a tour of Castle Black and helped settle the hundred or so men in his party. Once that was done, the results of the vote were finally announced.

First place: Yohn Royce, with five hundred and eighty-four votes.

Second place: Jarman Buckwell, with two hundred and ten votes.

Third place: Aegor West, with one hundred and sixty-three votes.

Several dozen votes were ultimately not cast and counted as abstentions.

Jarman Buckwell’s two hundred or so votes came from staunch reformists. These were either true reform advocates or those with personal interests tied to Aegor, and required no further explanation. As for Aegor’s own votes, they came from neutral members swayed by his speech. Yohn Royce’s nearly six hundred votes, however, were mostly secured before Aegor returned to Castle Black. He gained over four hundred and fifty in the morning, then continued to receive votes from Castle Black soldiers at a steady rate of twenty to thirty per hour. Everything pointed toward his imminent election as Commander. Unfortunately for him, that momentum was completely disrupted by Aegor’s unexpected and perfectly timed return—and the public denunciation of him and the two supporting Commanders.

Yohn had failed to seize his best opportunity. With Aegor now officially in the race, it was clear that even if one of the Commanders continued to support Yohn Royce the next day, he had no path to victory. Meanwhile, Aegor was almost guaranteed to win more votes than he had today.

The plan to delay the election hadn’t failed due to luck, but due to careful coordination and effort. After hosting a welcome dinner for Robb and his entourage and seeing them all settled in, Aegor returned to his tower and summoned his key supporters and advisors to finalize the next steps. The meeting lasted late into the night before concrete arrangements were made.

The last to leave was Sam. Before going, he provided Aegor with a few additional details. When Sam’s broad back finally disappeared into the night, Aegor let out a long sigh and turned to face the cold night sky over Castle Black before heading inside.

…

Just before he shut the door, a female voice called out, “Chief Logistics Officer, your meeting’s finally over.”

Aegor, hand on the door, raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Lady Melisandre? Uh… good evening.”

It felt odd to say good evening—it was already well past midnight. He should’ve said good night.

The Red Priestess gave a polite nod, then asked, “Shall we talk here?”

“Oh, please come in.” Aegor quickly stepped aside.

She smiled, smoothed her red robes, and gracefully stepped into the warm chamber, which still smelled heavily of men.

Alone together, late at night… Aegor felt briefly flustered as he shut the door.

He wasn’t afraid of gossip.

Melisandre, however, showed no sign of unease. By the time Aegor turned around, she was already seated across from his desk.

What was she here for? Aegor wasn’t sure, but kept his expression composed as he returned to his chair.

“Lady Melisandre, have your injuries from the other day healed?”

The ice spear hurled by the White Walkers had only grazed her skin, but it caused some injury Aegor didn’t fully understand. After being brought back to her room, she hadn’t appeared again for quite some time—hence his concern.

“Thanks to you, my lord, I’m fine now.” Melisandre smiled, full of vitality. “Speaking of which, you truly saved my life that day. And I’ve yet to thank you properly in person since you left Castle Black for the South. Please forgive my rudeness.”

“You flatter me, Lady Melisandre. With your gifts and your dedication to fighting humanity’s enemies, your presence at Castle Black is a blessing for the Night’s Watch. Anyone would have chosen to save you.”

A man and a woman, alone in a room, exchanging polite platitudes so late at night—it felt strange. Perhaps sensing this as well, Melisandre let out a soft laugh. “Alright, we’ve known each other for quite some time now, haven’t we? No need to be so formal. Can’t we speak more casually?”

Aegor smiled. “Since you’ve said that, I won’t stand on ceremony. What brings you here at this hour?”

“Chief Logistics Officer, your scolding of the two Commanders in the cellar this afternoon was truly impressive. But while it may have satisfied your sense of justice, Ser Denys Mallister and Lord Cotter Pyke will absolutely not vote for you now. I noticed you had a meeting in this room not long ago. May I ask what you and your allies discussed?”

Among followers of the Lord of Light, few were as single-minded as Melisandre. Her concern over Castle Black’s affairs wasn’t unusual.

Technically, Aegor shouldn’t reveal what had just been discussed. But considering this red priestess likely suspected him to be the prophesied figure, she wouldn’t do anything to harm him.

“Tomorrow, Jarman Buckwell will withdraw. His votes will go to me… Conservatively, I’ll gain between four and five hundred votes. Even if one of the two Commanders convinces the other to back him, I’m confident that man still won’t win.”

“From my observations at Castle Black, that scenario is unlikely. The enmity between those two Commanders likely predates your birth. They won’t suddenly support each other just because you appeared.” Melisandre nodded. “But I want to know—what happens next? The Night’s Watch delaying the election is putting the Wall in a dangerous state. We’re lucky the enemy hasn’t taken advantage of the disarray… but we won’t be lucky forever. You must become Lord Commander as soon as possible—for everyone’s sake.”

You must. Not someone must. Aegor looked at her with interest. When had this red priestess become his supporter?

He nodded and continued, “I hope one of them has a change of heart and supports me. But that’s unlikely. So now I’m hoping Robb Stark agrees to a general vote across all the castles along the Wall. That would expand my support base slightly… but I can’t travel to Shadow Tower and Eastwatch-by-the-Sea to scold their Commanders in person. So I’m prepared to write off those four hundred votes.”

“The one-vote-per-person proposal will likely be accepted, but Stark has no reason to change the two-thirds rule. Without those four hundred votes, what will you do?”

“Think about it another way.” Aegor smiled. “Getting two-thirds of the votes is just one side of the coin. From another angle, it’s about keeping the votes not cast for me below one-third. We can achieve that by reducing the number of opponents—but there’s another path: increase the total number of eligible voters. That way, those four hundred votes shrink in proportion.”

(To be continued.)

***

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