I once loved your mother.

Under normal circumstances, this sort of entanglement would hardly be a good foundation for building rapport. But in these times, with the terrible chaos of the world as a backdrop, and with Aegor, the “traitor,” as a contrasting figure, even the ill-fated relationship between Petyr and Catelyn seemed almost precious. Robb, whose condition had improved after several days of recuperation, received the Queen’s two key ministers in the main hall of Winterfell. After a brief persuasion from Littlefinger, he agreed to the request to travel to Seven City and attempt to win over the Northern Lords.

The consent of those involved was only the first step. Releasing the North’s ruler, who had been subdued by force and whose loyalty was still untested, was a gamble. It naturally required the approval of the primary risk-bearer — the Queen. Petyr formally presented the plan to Daenerys the next morning over breakfast. This time, with preparation and support, he and Aegor managed to shift the tide in their favor. Aside from the two-to-one majority outweighing Varys’s opposition, they held another critical advantage: Winterfell had been taken by Aegor, and it was he who had captured Robb. The captor himself deciding to release the prisoner made it difficult for others, even Daenerys herself, to object without concrete evidence suggesting betrayal.

For once, the plan proceeded smoothly, but Aegor had little time to celebrate. He was quickly buried under a mountain of work that followed. Rearming Winterfell’s guard force was simple, but dispatching envoys to persuade the Northern Lords was no easy matter. Choosing suitable candidates was just the beginning. Before sending Robb and the others on their way, he and Littlefinger still had to consult closely with their advisors, weighing every detail. Following the principle of “deceiving a gentleman with propriety, enticing a villain with profit,” they had to define the tone and bottom line of each negotiation, clearly instructing every envoy on the terms allowed — all to maximize the number of families swayed while keeping the cost within acceptable bounds, and to avoid future disputes over unequal rewards when the conquest was complete.

The discussions dragged on, relentless and exhaustive, from noon until the late hours of the night. Not until the sky in the east began to pale did Aegor finally finish drafting a complete set of negotiation proposals that he considered acceptable.

Spending more time would certainly make them more refined, but politics was not poetry. It did not need to be perfect, only effective. Splitting himself into a dozen people to personally visit every house would certainly be ideal, but that was only fantasy. Since it couldn’t be done, he could only do his best, leave the rest to fate, and hope that his subordinates performed well, having been given every preparation he could provide.

On the morning of the third day after Myrcella proposed her bold idea, over a dozen groups of envoys, including Robb Stark, rode out of Winterfell. Scattered across the North, their numbers added up to several thousand. They carried banners of peace and negotiation, like nets cast across the land. How many would be caught, no one could yet say. What was curious was this: not a single expected reply had come back, yet two uninvited parties had already arrived from the east and west, each seeking an audience with the Queen or her senior ministers.

Aegor received and accepted a request for a meeting from one of the groups. When the petitioner — tall and thin like a bamboo pole — sat down across from him with a smile, he was surprised to find that the sense of familiarity he felt had not been an illusion. It was an old acquaintance.

“Lord Tycho!” The Night’s Watch commander raised his eyebrows, his face tired but unable to suppress his surprise. “What wind blew you here from across the Narrow Sea?”

“It was news of your victory against the White Walkers. To be honest, Lord Commander, your speed is truly astonishing. When I set off, you were still said to be preparing in Crown Town, but after landing, I had to come to Winterfell to find you. Please allow me to express my personal admiration.” Tycho Nestoris, as always, held his head high, smiling warmly — relaxed, but never disrespectful. “Let me also convey Braavos’s congratulations. The new Sea Lord is deeply relieved to know that humanity has triumphed over such an unprecedented crisis, and the Iron Bank is pleased to hear that a massive loan will not become a bad debt… Haha, just a joke. In any case, please accept the sincere respect of the Free Cities, Lord Commander.”

“You’re too kind.” What Aegor lacked now was not admiration or respect, but he still nodded with a smile. Though he was busy beyond measure and had no desire to waste time on pleasantries, he refrained from showing any impatience. The Iron Bank’s grain loan of one hundred thousand golden dragons had helped the Night’s Watch survive its hardest days. Thanks to that support, he didn’t have to agonize over feeding tens of thousands of mouths every day while laying out his vision for the future. That alone was reason enough to treat this envoy with due courtesy and respect at all times. “But as far as I know, the Night’s Watch still has eighteen years left on the loan’s term. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Lord Commander, you’ve misunderstood. I’m not here to collect debts.” Tycho chuckled and continued, “It’s just that the figures above were a little uneasy upon hearing you pledged allegiance to Daenerys Targaryen. They wish to confirm one thing with you: is our previous loan agreement still valid?”

Huh?

What in the world?

Aegor was momentarily bewildered. While it was true he did not shy away from unorthodox methods, the idea of defaulting on a loan was one he had never considered. If the rebellion failed, his life would be forfeit anyway — there would be no need to concern himself with the Night’s Watch loan due in eighteen years. And if the rebellion succeeded, and he ruled the Seven Kingdoms, would the Night’s Watch, listed high among the heroes of the realm, be short of a hundred thousand dragons? What a joke.

What he was engaged in was a grand undertaking to reshape the realm. If the Iron Bank had sent someone to pester him about such a trivial matter, then he would truly be displeased.

The smile on his face faded. Irritation crept into his expression.

“Of course it’s valid. Never mind that my name is on the agreement, even if it weren’t, as Jeor Mormont’s successor, I couldn’t possibly repudiate a loan the Wall actually received. The Night’s Watch hasn’t disbanded just because I pledged loyalty to the Queen, and the Night’s Watch Industry, which served as collateral, hasn’t collapsed or disappeared. Since none of the conditions have changed, why question the validity of the contract?”

“Haha, naturally.” The tall, thin Braavosi saw Aegor’s displeasure and immediately offered a conciliatory smile. “It’s just a procedural confirmation. The Iron Bank has no intention of questioning your or the Night’s Watch’s credit, Lord Commander. If any offense was caused, please forgive me. In fact, I have two other tasks on this trip. One of them is this: we’ve heard in Braavos that the Night’s Watch deployed a new weapon called a ‘bomb’ in the war against the White Walkers. The Sea Lord is very interested and hopes that you might provide the manufacturing or deployment method — of course, for purchase. Name your price.”

So the Braavosi want to buy bomb technology… Cannons are the real killing machines, aren’t they? But then again, the people across the Narrow Sea probably don’t yet know of their existence or power.

“I’m afraid I must disappoint you, Lord Tycho. The bomb is of great strategic value to Her Grace’s campaign to reunify the Seven Kingdoms. To prevent Her Grace’s enemies from learning about the weapon through outside channels, all related information will be kept strictly confidential until she reclaims the Iron Throne and rules Westeros. I’m sorry, but there is no room for negotiation on this matter. I ask for your understanding.”

“That is indeed unfortunate, but your loyalty to your monarch is understandable.” Tycho remained composed, still smiling. “Let us set that matter aside, then. I am merely a man doing his job. I won’t be the annoying fellow who stirs up trouble.”

He leaned in slightly, and his tone shifted.

“But the next matter truly concerns your monarch’s interests. Over the past decade or so, the Iron Throne has borrowed more than two million golden dragons from the Iron Bank in various loans. Due to the war, payments have been missed for several periods. Compared to King Stannis, we now have greater confidence in Daenerys Targaryen, who has your support, Lord Commander. If she will formally declare in writing that she recognizes the debt, we are willing to mobilize resources to support Her Grace’s war against the usurpers—”

“Wait.” Aegor cut him off, half amused by the absurdity. “So your second task is to persuade the Queen to inherit the debt left behind by the usurpers? Do you really think that’s possible? And more importantly, what does this have to do with me? You should go ask Her Grace directly whether she agrees or not. I am not the Queen’s Master of Coin, and I have no say in such matters.”

(To be continued.)

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep