Myrcella could understand Aegor’s motive for wanting to reclaim the Iron Throne out of gratitude for the Queen’s help, but she couldn’t accept his decision to march South and become an enemy of the North because of it. In her view, the world shouldn’t work like that.

The Night’s Watch’s duty is to guard the Wall, fight the White Walkers and wildlings, and protect the peace of the Seven Kingdoms. Doing anything else would be overstepping bounds and acting recklessly.

While Daenerys Targaryen riding her dragon North to participate in this epic war between the living and the dead was noble and praiseworthy, the Night’s Watch should indeed ensure her safety, cooperate with her actions, and naturally show her gratitude and respect afterward. But in the end, the Dragon Queen was only protecting the Seven Kingdoms, something she believed belonged to her.

If everyone acted according to their own thoughts and wishes instead of following the division of labor and fulfilling their respective duties, everything would descend into chaos.

The Night’s Watch breaking its vow of neutrality to help the Queen conquer the Seven Kingdoms was a classic case of failing to distinguish priorities and acting out of self-interest. It was a grave mistake.

Although this was true, Myrcella also understood deep in her heart that the world held far more wrongs than this one. Not to mention, her very existence was a mistake. By conventional ethics and morality, her biological parents were never supposed to be together, much less have children.

How could someone who shouldn’t even exist have the confidence to judge others? It was true that Aegor had made a mistake, but at least he had a legitimate reason. He was now branded a traitor and villain, someone everyone in the North wanted to kill, but that did not change the fact that he had always been gentle and courteous, sincere and friendly toward her, and had taken great care of her “uncle” and two brothers. Anyone in the world could feel disgust or hostility toward Aegor, but she certainly should not be among them.

Not only did she not dislike him, but in fact, this Night’s Watchman was almost the person who best fit her image of a “hero” since she was born. Mature but not dull, powerful but not crude, upright but not rigid, brave but not reckless. Though he held a high position and wielded authority, he showed great thoughtfulness and gentleness in dealing with others.

Those alone weren’t enough. What mattered more was that Myrcella could sense it. The qualities Aegor displayed were not an act.

Either he was the greatest actor the world had ever seen, or that was truly who he was.

No wonder Arya liked him.

…

Speaking of Arya, sometimes Myrcella couldn’t help but envy her nominal “sister.” Why was it that when she was just a mischievous child who made foolish mistakes, caused trouble, and faced disaster, a man like that would step forward to protect and accompany her? Meanwhile, she, despite being sensible and intelligent, more aware of reason and propriety than most adults, was from the moment she was born an incestuous child condemned by the heavens and earth, a monstrous offspring resented by gods and men alike, suffering fate’s cruel mockery and torment. She drifted like rootless seaweed, tossed from reef to reef, her body bruised and battered.

Was she atoning for the sins of a past life, or was the world simply one where fools were favored by fortune?

Whenever such thoughts arose, Myrcella would shake her head hard to rid herself of them, and feel deeply ashamed for having such confused and foolish notions.

She didn’t believe in past lives, and Arya wasn’t foolish either. The difference in their fates came down to whether their respective parents had fulfilled their roles as parents.

If even one of her parents—whether by blood or in name—had been stable, mature, and responsible, instead of all three being so childish that even she, a real child, found them immature… or if a warrior had stepped forward to shield her at a crucial moment like Aegor had done for Arya, she might not have had to suffer so much injustice and hardship.

There was no need for too much self-pity. If she were to truly tally the accounts, Myrcella admitted to herself that apart from being briefly confined and having her identity changed several times before arriving outside Winterfell, she had not endured deliberate external abuse. The impact was almost entirely psychological. Being forced to part from close family and friends, to live in an unfamiliar environment, to assume a false name and sever ties with her past, to lie about her origins and childhood—these were things no one could understand without personally experiencing them. Speaking of them aloud would only sound like affectation.

Aegor had made a mistake, but that could not erase the fact that she owed him a great debt. And more importantly, deep down… Myrcella didn’t believe he was a bad person.

…

As the “third daughter” of the Stark family, Myrcella spent every day with Sansa and Arya. The former Baratheon princess had learned days ago through their candid conversations that Lord Bolton was leading his army to Last Hearth to attack the Queen. But she hadn’t immediately left the city to warn Aegor. There were two main reasons.

First, she couldn’t. Second, she shouldn’t.

At that time, Winterfell, which had not faced attack for hundreds of years, was suddenly ambushed and besieged. Everyone was in a heightened state of alert. There was no way the guards would open the gates for a young girl like her to leave the city. Moreover, if she had leaked the news to Aegor then, he would only need to send a raven to the North to alert the Queen. Wouldn’t her message have put thousands of Northern soldiers in danger and ruined a military operation planned by the Stark family?

Aegor and the Stark family. The former was a friend. The latter, her family from now on. Since the calamity, the already sensible Myrcella saw things even more clearly. One could like friends more than family, but in major matters, one must not prioritize the former over the latter. Aegor’s kindness in caring for Tommen, Joffrey, and her “uncle” was nothing compared to the Stark family’s protection and care after her identity was revealed. If she let personal feelings dictate her actions and caused the Stark family to lose a war or even fall, she would be just as unable to distinguish right from wrong as her parents had been.

Fortunately, after praying silently for both sides inside and outside the city for several days, the situation finally shifted. The crucial news that Lord Bolton had successfully ambushed Last Hearth and captured the Queen left no suspense about the outcome of the standoff. The castle garrison was immersed in the joy of the crisis being resolved and no longer saw the attackers outside as an overwhelming threat. Myrcella also saw a chance to preserve both sides. Delivering the news to Aegor at this point would both repay the debt she owed him and bring her peace of mind, without threatening the safety of the Stark family.

As for whether the Stark family would discover this later?

She hadn’t thought that far ahead, but at worst, she would honestly admit her mistake and lose the trust she had worked so hard to earn. The good thing about being with decent people was that even if you did something wrong, you weren’t immediately damned forever.

—

After hearing her speak, the man in black before her raised his eyebrows but did not show the shock and panic Myrcella had expected.

“Where did you get this news?”

“I saw with my own eyes Maester Luwin receive a raven from the North and then rush into the main keep. Then the news spread, and now everyone in the castle knows!” Myrcella was so anxious for him that she broke into a sweat. “I don’t know if Robb has instructed Ser Rodrik to tell you. If he mentions this later and advises you to surrender, you’d best accept. The closer Lord Bolton’s army gets to Winterfell, the less leverage you’ll have in negotiations. But if he doesn’t mention it at all and just rambles on as usual, that’s even worse. It means the Stark family has decided not to give you a chance to admit your mistake and yield. You’d best withdraw tonight!”

Aegor stood still before the little princess, arms crossed, deep in thought.

He didn’t doubt for a moment that Myrcella would lie to him, but he also didn’t believe that Bolton had the ability or the motive to ambush Last Hearth and eliminate Daenerys. If a piece of news is neither a lie nor the absolute truth, then it must lie somewhere in between—partial or distorted.

Myrcella believed it was true, but in reality, it was fake news fabricated by either the Stark or Bolton families. Which one?

A few seconds later, a chill ran across his scalp and down his spine. Brilliant. What a clever move.

He had thought he’d handled the informants sent by the Flayer masterfully. He had captured the entire group overnight without a single one escaping, interrogated them, and uncovered the patterns and methods they used to report to the Dreadfort.

He had expected that by the time Roose Bolton realized something was wrong, he would have already coerced and pressured the Stark family into submission. At that point, no one would be able to stir up major trouble.

But something had gone wrong. Bolton’s counterattack in response to his refusal to cooperate had come so swiftly, sharply, and decisively.

Last Hearth belonged to the Umbers. The Night’s Watch didn’t have ravens capable of flying from there to the siege camp outside Winterfell. Even a warg couldn’t cover that kind of distance.

Aegor had no way of getting real-time updates from the Queen’s side. This meant that the Bolton army might truly be advancing South at that very moment, but he would be completely unaware. Yet contrary to what Myrcella and those inside Winterfell believed, they were not coming to break the siege. They were coming to wipe out the Stark family and humiliate him.

“Lady Meave, if I told you that the message you received was fabricated by Roose Bolton, that he hasn’t harmed the Queen at all, and may have even defected to Daenerys and become an enemy of the Starks, would you believe me?”

It was foreseeable that when the Bolton army arrived escorting the Queen, if she saw that the three-headed dragon banner was still not flying over the walls, and he, who had claimed he would await her arrival in Winterfell, was still camped outside, then not only would her impression of him suffer, but Arya and her family’s safety inside the city would be impossible to guarantee.

“Oh, Seven help us, I’m not joking!” Myrcella hadn’t expected Aegor to react like this. Anxious, she waved her arms. “I believe the Night’s Watch is strong, but you’re no match for the entire North. For the love of the Seven, please find a way to escape quickly. Don’t let my sneaking out be in vain!”

Aegor shook his head. He realized his reaction now truly resembled that of a desperate man, a gambler unwilling to accept reality, hoping for one final turn of fate. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself, then crouched down slightly, resting one hand gently on the girl’s narrow shoulder and asked seriously and slowly, “Myrcella, look at me. Do I look like I’ve gone mad?”

Myrcella’s heart skipped a beat. This was the first time in more than two years that an outsider had called her by her real name. She looked up as he said, meeting Aegor’s gaze, and studied the man in front of her carefully.

A chiseled, resolute face, cheeks and chin cleanly shaven, not a blemish in sight. His eyes were clear, serious, and sincere. Gods, how had she never noticed this kind of presence and authority before? He seemed even more manly than before.

And with the strength and warmth in the hand resting on her shoulder, her cheeks suddenly flushed.

Fortunately, they were already red from running, so the slight change wasn’t noticeable.

She shifted uncomfortably and just remembered they were in the middle of a serious conversation. “Not like it. But I didn’t say—”

“Alright, calm down. Take a deep breath and come sit.” Aegor interrupted her, stood up, and gently pushed her shoulder, guiding her to the chair in front of the desk. He pulled another chair from behind the desk and sat across from her. Only then did he begin to explain solemnly, “I say this news is false not because I’m stubborn or afraid to admit defeat. It’s because I don’t believe that someone who sent envoys to The Gift just last month to discuss overthrowing House Stark would, in less than a month, suddenly become a loyal subject and risk everything to eliminate Robb’s greatest threat, just to protect the Stark family’s rule over the North.”

(To be continued.)

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep