Unable to see Aegor wake immediately, Daenerys felt a wave of disappointment, along with a sudden impulse to “wait here until he opens his eyes”—just sit by the bed and keep vigil. If he were to wake from his coma and the first thing he saw was her face, surely he would be deeply moved?

For a moment, she truly wanted to do just that, but in the end, reason prevailed.

She was the Queen. Her status and position did not permit her to sit by the bedside of a subordinate like a loving old mother, a devoted young wife, or a dutiful daughter. Not only would it have no actual impact on the patient’s recovery, it would greatly lower her own standing, cause onlookers to overestimate her feelings for Aegor, and severely undermine her authority as a ruler.

After waiting for a while and confirming that the man on the bed would not be waking anytime soon, she rose decisively and departed, returning to her temporary residence with the Unsullied Guard to attend to more pressing matters.

Lying motionless in bed, eyes closed, Aegor let out a long breath of relief. Playing dead without moving was exhausting, and if Daenerys truly hadn’t left, he would have been in for a hard time. Now everything could proceed as planned. He would not “wake up” tonight, and would remain “trapped” in a coma for another two or three days. This was not only the final act in this grand play to make the poisoning seem more convincing, it was also, like asking Daenerys to shed her own blood to save him, a subtle manipulation—leveraging psychological tricks to influence her thinking. All so that his future path in helping her unify the Seven Kingdoms would be smoother.

Having Daenerys shed blood for him used what was known as the Benjamin Franklin effect: people instinctively develop a sense of closeness toward those they have helped.

Leo Tolstoy described the phenomenon this way: “We do not love people because they are good to us, but because we are good to them.”

Why does this seemingly contradictory behavior occur? Stripped to its core, it’s not that people truly love the “other,” but rather the time, effort, and emotional investment they have poured into that person. Like bets placed on a gaming table, to give up would be to waste all that had been invested—a loss.

The instinct to seek gain and avoid loss drives people to become emotionally bound to those they’ve helped before.

This might sound cold and utilitarian, but for a summary of real-world experience rather than a scientific law, it doesn’t matter whether it’s morally right or wrong. What matters is that this counter-intuitive effect is widely present in social interactions—and can be used.

In the current situation, it played out like this: after Daenerys had shed her own blood to save Aegor, she had already invested concern and importance in him. Subconsciously, she would believe that Aegor ought to be grateful and loyal to her. This vague but powerful perception could not be shaken. It was far more effective than hearing a thousand oaths of loyalty, and would make Aegor’s future display of allegiance much more natural and convincing.

Though calling it a “display” might imply a bit of deception. In truth, as long as Daenerys didn’t go mad like her father or do something foolish enough to make him turn against her, Aegor had no problem being truly loyal to her.

And “pretending to stay in a coma for a few more days” employed another well-known emotional principle: what is lost and then recovered is always cherished more.

Let Daenerys first experience the fear of losing her key advisors. Let her face the loss of her most trusted allies before her great cause was even halfway done. Let her feel the blow of her Hand of the King, her Master of Whisperers, and the support from the Gift all disappearing at once. Let her taste the bitterness of seeing her grand dream of “breaking the wheel” suddenly fall apart. Let her begin to consider lowering her ambitions, accept symbolic unification, grant the Riverlands and Dorne autonomy, and even entertain the possibility of marrying Aegon to maintain her cause…

Only once she had mentally prepared herself to face disaster and loss would Aegor wake at just the right moment—not too early, not too late—allowing her to experience the joy of a false alarm, and of something lost being found again. Compared to that emotional high, the earlier misunderstandings and unpleasantness would seem trivial. Their ruler-subject relationship would be restored naturally, without needing apologies, and perhaps even made stronger and more harmonious when he expressed his heartfelt gratitude.

Of course, if this elaborate plan was only meant to raise her favor toward him by a few points, it would be far too much trouble. After eliminating Varys and Petyr, Daenerys had no choice but to rely heavily on him. Under such conditions, whether her favor was at seventy or seventy-five didn’t change much. The real reason Aegor went to such lengths was because he had additional plans for the upcoming investigation into the mastermind.

—

He was the real culprit. The so-called investigation was, naturally, just for show, to help Daenerys vent her anger.

But even if it was only an act, it had to be acted thoroughly. Aegor had put a great deal of thought into selecting the “scapegoat.”

There were many potential suspects with motives for the poisoning: the Northern lords, Stannis, Aegor himself, several slave cities across the Narrow Sea who were long-time enemies of Daenerys… and one more he had added out of personal interest—Roose Bolton.

The last had originally been his top choice. The Old Flayer was not only meticulous and cunning, but had recently taken hostile action toward the Gift—trying to use underhanded tactics to manipulate him. Who else would be more suitable to take the fall?

But after a moment of reflection, Aegor rejected the idea.

He was now engaged in the greater cause of seizing the realm, and couldn’t behave like a child throwing a tantrum. He couldn’t go after anyone who had offended or angered him simply out of spite—not before victory had been secured. Setting aside his emotions, the situation was clear: if he turned against the Dreadfort, not only would he lose two thousand of their spearmen and shieldmen, but he would also be forced to wipe them out to prevent them becoming a threat later. Forcing an allied force to rebel before the war was won was incredibly costly and yielded little benefit. Was that worth it for a moment’s satisfaction?

Yes, with Powder, the Gift Army could easily wipe out the Dreadfort’s troops… but even that idea was fundamentally flawed. Before reaching the outskirts of King’s Landing to link up with the Long Night Industrial Complex and restart the saltpeter works to ensure a stable supply of raw materials, Powder was more valuable than soldiers—worth thousands of men—and could not be wasted on targets with no strategic value.

The smartest course was to keep Roose Bolton under pressure. Force him to fight as cannon fodder in the coming war, then use him afterward as a piece to balance against the Stark-led Northern forces, preventing the North from uniting too tightly against the Iron Throne.

With that option ruled out, the rest of the suspects were all future enemies of Daenerys anyway, making the decision easier.

The Northern lords were to be temporarily united and appeased, so they were excluded first. Stannis sending someone to poison a rival’s subordinate? Even Aegor didn’t believe that. Once those were eliminated, the final suspects narrowed to himself and the alliance of slave cities across the Narrow Sea, led by Volantis.

Which one should he choose?

The more he thought, the more his brows furrowed.

What troubled Aegor wasn’t the choice itself—either worked. Those forces had no good intentions, and even if their leaders weren’t the same person, they were almost certainly in contact with one another. Nor was he worried about how to frame them. That was laughable. There’s never a shortage of excuses when you want to blame someone. As long as he was willing to think it through, he could fabricate airtight evidence that left the accused unable to defend themselves.

What truly troubled him was this: Daenerys wanted to uncover the “true culprit,” not just any scapegoat. That forced him to be extremely cautious. The deeper he thought, the more he realized that no matter how he acted, there was no way to be completely sure of success.

What is the most important thing when framing someone?

Making sure they have no chance to clear their name.

And the best way to ensure that is to kill them. Silence them forever. Leave no evidence.

But Aegor’s problem now was that whether it was the slave cities or the Golden Company supporting Aegon, their power bases were far away. They were guarded by armies, surrounded by advisors. They were not dead. Once Daenerys publicly accused them of “poisoning her advisor,” they would certainly deny it and try to clear their name.

What’s fake will never become real. A frame-up is still a frame-up. No matter how perfect the false evidence is, it won’t become the truth… especially since Aegor had acted hastily this time and hadn’t had time to prepare thoroughly.

Eliminating one obstacle and pinning the blame on another might seem like a masterstroke that killed two birds with one stone. But if anything went wrong, if the “culprit” left alive became a crack in this flawless performance, then everything carefully crafted would unravel. And Aegor would have no end of regret.

It was Qyburn who offered him a new way of thinking: in this world, besides the dead—who cannot speak in their defense—there was another kind of suspect that could never protest their innocence.

Nonexistent people.

Instead of framing a specific hostile force and risking exposure, why not go with the flow… and leave the case unsolved? A cold case. Wrongful convictions might be overturned someday, but a cold case, once eroded by time, with key evidence and witnesses “lost,” would be nearly impossible to reopen.

The benefit of this method was that it pointed to no one, making it difficult to refute and greatly reducing risk. But the downside was equally clear—two of Daenerys’s key advisors had been poisoned under his watch, and he hadn’t even caught the perpetrator. Wouldn’t that seem like pure incompetence?

This was the real reason Aegor had to remain “in a coma” for a few more days. If he did not participate in or direct the investigation, then no matter how it ended, the blow to his image in Daenerys’s eyes would be greatly diminished.

(To be continued.)

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep