It was easy enough to make room for a few hundred Unsullied, but accommodating two dragons was another matter entirely. Fortunately, all the guards and servants in Winterfell now answered to Aegor. Since the castle wasn’t their true home, they had no qualms about tearing down or moving whatever needed to be moved. Everything proceeded without complaint or conflict. After hours spent arranging the placement of people, horses, dragons, and supplies, Winterfell was packed to the brim—even the open space in the godswood and the crumbling tower where Jaime and Cersei had once met in secret was occupied.

In the end, Aegor’s earlier excuse to deny the Bolton army entry—”lack of space”—turned out to be true. Not only did the Dreadfort’s elite forces have to remain camped outside the city, but even a thousand unlucky soldiers from the Gift Army were forced to pitch tents beyond the Wall.

After half a day of hard work, the Queen’s personal guard was finally settled into the castle. With that complete, Daenerys convened a brief and informal meeting in a temporarily requisitioned room in Winterfell’s great hall to determine their next steps.

For obvious reasons of trust, the two Northern lords who had just sworn fealty were not invited to participate.

Seated to the Queen’s right, Aegor glanced around the room. Littlefinger, as Hand of the Queen, naturally sat to her left. Varys, as Master of Whisperers and a long-standing council member who had joined a year before Aegor, sat opposite them. Missandei stood behind Daenerys. The rest of the Queen’s Small Council remained far away in the Crownlands, focused on the southern campaign. Honestly, even six months ago, Aegor could never have imagined that one day he would be sitting with this group, discussing matters of great consequence.

Politics was a far cry from standing watch on the Wall and fighting wights. In this world, the living were far more dangerous than the dead. From Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch to a subordinate of the Queen and member of her Small Council, Aegor had essentially skipped practice matches and leapt straight into the professional league. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t nervous. But beneath that anxiety surged a deeper ambition and excitement.

His skills in court politics couldn’t compare to the two veterans beside him, but he had his own advantages: command of a powerful army, the Queen’s favor, and a secret weapon no one else could comprehend or control. These were more than enough to make up for his lack of experience.

…

“Impressive work, Lord Commander,” Varys said the moment he sat, his voice tinged with admiration and respect. “To take Winterfell overnight, and then to force the most stubborn of enemies to bring the North to Your Grace’s banner. The cleverness and skill shown in both matters are enough for future maesters to inscribe your name over and over again in the Chronicles of the True Dragon Dynasty.”

Though it sounded like praise, Aegor found the words infuriating. Whether intentionally or not, Varys was reminding Daenerys that the Starks had not surrendered willingly, and their loyalty was questionable. Each subtle remark like this would gradually erode the Queen’s trust in House Stark. The impact might not be immediate, but it would accumulate over time until one day it would erupt, driving the situation away from Aegor’s intended path.

This type of slander was more dangerous than open accusation. Even if one could detect it, there was no perfect way to refute it.

“Lord Varys flatters me,” Aegor replied calmly. “It wasn’t about skill or wit. I simply excel at ‘convincing people with the truth.'” He couldn’t guess what the eunuch was really thinking, but he knew Daenerys was no fool, so he didn’t bother denying that the Starks had not willingly opened the gates. As usual, he simply bent the truth a little. “The good news is, Lord Stark is a very reasonable man. That alone saved us a great deal of trouble.”

The locals had no way of understanding the pun in his words. In truth, Aegor hadn’t done much to persuade Robb at all. It was the overwhelming force of firearms, coupled with Catelyn’s maternal pleas, that had done the real convincing. His so-called eloquence as a “traitorous Night’s Watch” brother was irrelevant.

“Your Grace has every reason to be cautious of House Stark, but I swear by the gods above, the descendants of the First Men still honor their oaths,” Littlefinger quickly chimed in after Aegor. “The good news is that Winterfell is firmly under your control. You don’t need to worry about trusting them. You simply need to ensure the situation doesn’t spiral, so that even if they harbor disloyal thoughts, they have no chance to act on them. Do that, and the North will remain in your grasp… Once the realm is pacified, even if they’re unhappy, they’ll have no choice but to be loyal subjects.”

Aegor narrowed his eyes, feeling a measure of relief. There was no perfect way to rebut veiled accusations, only to balance them with equally strong support. Now that his intention to shield the Starks was exposed, he couldn’t continue defending them himself. It was ideal to have someone else speak on his behalf. Littlefinger had long-standing ties to House Tully and knew Catelyn well. Naturally, he also wished to preserve House Stark as a future political asset. Thus, despite having no personal alliance with Baelish—and even harboring enmity toward him—their interests aligned at this moment without any coordination.

Indeed, fate is full of surprises.

“Enough about the Starks,” Daenerys said, frowning. She could sense her advisors were trying to influence her judgment. But for now, she was more interested in matters of state. “The North has submitted and declared its support. That’s more than I ever expected from those I once considered enemies. Let’s move on. What should we do next?”

“We must reorganize the army, order House Stark to raise the Northern banners, and prepare to march South as soon as possible,” Aegor spoke without hesitation. “Winter’s end is uncertain, but the current weather is better than before. If we don’t seize this window to escape the coldest and most dangerous parts of the North, a second drop in temperature or a blizzard will trap us here in a terrible situation. Winterfell has sufficient food, but time, lost opportunities, and changes on the southern front are the greater threats.”

“Lord Aegor speaks wisely. Time is precious and should not be wasted,” Varys nodded, then shifted the conversation. “However, while we must act swiftly, we cannot afford to move carelessly. I trust Lord Stark’s oath, but the North is vast and filled with many nobles. Who can say their vassals value honor as much as their liege? During Robert’s Rebellion, every Northern house helped topple Your Grace’s family. If they still see you as your father’s daughter, or resent you for their losses in the war, and refuse to answer the call, what then?”

“We don’t need, and can’t expect, every Northern house to rally to our banner,” Littlefinger replied quickly, before Aegor could. “As long as we hold Winterfell and bring Robb and his men south, the rest of the North will not rise against their liege. Even if they don’t support us openly, they won’t rebel. That is enough.”

Aegor closed his mouth in surprise. That was exactly what he had intended to say. Having been the undisputed authority in The Gift for so long, it was a strange feeling to be interrupted. Still, seeing Littlefinger so eager to refute the eunuch, Aegor recognized the fierce struggle between the Queen’s advisors for influence over her thoughts.

Was this really about strategy, or were they simply trying to undercut each other?

He had no time to dwell on it. Since Littlefinger had stolen his original argument, Aegor quickly reshaped his response and took the next logical step.

“The North is already engaged in conflict with the Iron Islands. They can’t spare much manpower. Also, it’s still winter, and food is scarce. Moving a large army would cripple logistics. My proposal is simple. If a few prominent Northern lords send symbolic support and Robb Stark leads two or three thousand soldiers south, it will be enough. As Lord Varys said, the North harbors resentment. Rather than force them to muster a reluctant and ineffective army, we should request more food and supplies. That would be far more useful.”

There were no other council members here. Grey Worm and the others were still in the south. In Winterfell, only these four could influence Daenerys. Missandei remained impartial, loyal only to her Queen, and refrained from taking sides. That left a 2-to-1 advantage between Aegor and Littlefinger against Varys. When Aegor saw the Queen’s thoughtful expression, he thought the matter was settled.

But Varys was not so easily silenced. After a brief pause, his eyes narrowed.

“Indeed. If Your Grace’s only goal is to reclaim the throne, then gathering your forces and marching on King’s Landing quickly is the right choice. But don’t forget, your true aim is to unite the Seven Kingdoms and bring peace and prosperity to your people. The North is part of your kingdom. It was the first region to yield to your rule. If you simply strip it of resources and conscript its soldiers before rushing to your next conquest, aren’t you repeating the same mistake you made in Slaver’s Bay? Have you forgotten the chaos that followed in Astapor and Yunkai? The pain and misery their people endured after you left?”

Damn it. The old spider had seized the moral high ground.

Aegor was no stranger to this tactic and instantly saw through Varys’s move. He had assumed this private discussion among loyal advisors would be practical and straightforward, without the need for high-minded virtue. He hadn’t expected someone to throw such lofty ideals into the mix just to stall progress. Caught off guard, he had no counter prepared.

How could the North be compared to Slaver’s Bay? The chaos in Astapor and Yunkai occurred because Daenerys destroyed their entire ruling class and social structure without establishing new order. But in the North, no major house—aside from the Umber family—had been wiped out. Robb Stark was alive and well. Even if his vassals knew his loyalty was forced, the worst they would do was stay neutral. What kind of chaos could they possibly cause?

…

Aegor and Littlefinger understood this perfectly. But Daenerys was the one bearing the guilt. In the time it took the two men to gather their rebuttals, the Queen had already recalled every mistake she had made in Slaver’s Bay. Memories of broken families and ruined lives overwhelmed her reason. Guilt and remorse took hold, clouding her judgment.

“Your Grace, these are two completely different situations…”

“Enough!” Daenerys interrupted sharply. Her gaze turned firm. “Varys is right. The North is part of my kingdom. I won’t repeat past mistakes by plundering resources and rushing on. I will stay here, listen to the nobles, understand the needs of the people, and only when they accept my rule, recognize me as their Queen, and are willing to support my vision, will I move on to the next conquest.”

Then you’ll be stuck here until spring. Or summer… Are you kidding me? You fell for that obvious moral guilt trap? Aegor’s eyes widened in disbelief. He had thought the 2-to-1 vote was enough, but he had forgotten the Queen herself was the final authority. He hadn’t expected one sentimental argument from Varys to make her the biggest obstacle to their plan.

He wanted to argue further, but he knew his position was still new, his influence limited, and he had already asked Daenerys for a favor once to accept the Stark surrender. As he hesitated, the Queen, as always, acted on impulse.

“Petyr, contact Grey Worm immediately. Tell him to slow the advance on King’s Landing and prioritize preserving strength. Varys and Aegor, one of you is well-informed, and the other understands the North. I want the two of you to reach out to the local lords and smallfolk. Report back with everything they say, do, and feel in full detail.”

(To be continued.)

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep