“How many times has this girl given you advice and clever ideas? That night you raided Winterfell, she even helped set fires inside the city to reduce the Gift Army’s casualties during the assault. She’s one of your own. Can you really bear to hurt her?”

“She has Lannister blood in her veins and wears the Stark sigil on her chest. What made you think she was one of your own? Setting fire to the stables is nothing compared to this. Even if that had been exposed, at most, outsiders would call you despicable for using a little girl. But if word gets out that you poisoned one of Daenerys’s trusted advisors, everything you’ve accomplished these past days will be for nothing, and your own life will be at risk.”

“Daenerys came in person. She saw you with her own eyes, touched you with her own hands, and fully believes you were unconscious. Myrcella is the daughter of her father’s murderer. How credible could her words be? How could she possibly threaten you? Never mind Myrcella alone. Even if the whole world said it was you, as long as Daenerys trusts you, you have nothing to fear.”

“Well said. But have you forgotten the tale of three men making a tiger? In a world this cruel, can we really afford to put a fatal secret in someone else’s hands?”

…

The killing intent, with demon’s horns, and the kindness, with an angel’s halo, argued back and forth in Aegor’s mind like two miniature versions of himself. The victor had yet to emerge, but in truth, he had already sighed and loosened the strength in his arms.

Strike while the iron is hot. Then it cools. Then it breaks. That moment of blankness just now had probably been the only time he could have forced himself to kill Myrcella. Once he let go of her mouth and exchanged a few words, Aegor realized that he truly liked this little princess… both before and after his crossing.

Killing is one thing, but acting in self-defense, removing obstacles without hesitation, or reluctantly ordering the execution of a soldier suspected of treason are all different from personally strangling an innocent girl. He hadn’t reached that point yet. He couldn’t do it.

Of course, this didn’t mean he was going soft. Instead, he suddenly felt that someone as sweet as her, even if she had to be silenced, deserved a gentler, less painful, and more dignified method. A cup of fine Arbor gold, laced with the Stranger’s Kiss, served when she felt safe, relaxed, maybe even joyful… would be more appropriate.

Aegor released her, but as soon as the pressure eased, the girl collapsed to the ground like she had no bones. Whether it was from terror or the aftereffects of being choked, her limbs had lost all strength.

He had no choice but to support her to the bed, help her sit on the edge, and then pulled over a nearby stool to sit facing her, staring intently at her face.

Myrcella looked up at him timidly, realizing she was not yet out of danger.

“My Lord… you’ve been unconscious for two days and two nights. Shouldn’t you drink some water first… or eat something?”

Aegor shook his head, not playing along. “Enough, girl. Stop pretending. Explain why you didn’t leave with Lady Catelyn, and what exactly you were doing hiding in my room.”

Playing dumb had been a clever move, but this wasn’t as simple as someone seeing you naked by accident. This was a major political conspiracy. Until it was dealt with clearly, he couldn’t just let it pass because she pretended nothing happened.

Realizing he wouldn’t let it go, Myrcella, who had just begun to relax, tensed again. She took several deep breaths to calm herself, swallowed hard, and used the time to restart her thinking. After a moment of reflection, she realized that honesty was the most likely way to lower Aegor’s guard.

“Actually… actually, I saw there was no one else in the room, and I heard Maester Qyburn say you could wake at any time, so I wanted to wait and see if you would wake up. I thought maybe I could talk to you privately and ask… ask for a favor.”

“I can’t help you go home.” Aegor had already guessed her motive. He cut her off with a single sentence. “Have the Starks mistreated you? Hurt you in any way?”

“No…”

“Then that’s it.” On the surface, the Starks had adopted Myrcella, but in truth, they were both protecting and watching her. Just like the Night’s Watch would never let Joffrey return to the Westerlands. This wasn’t simply about reuniting a child with her family. It was a dangerous, messy political affair that clearly worked against the interests of the Gift. “You can’t be Myrcella Baratheon anymore. Hiding your identity is for your own safety. Understand?”

“I do understand, but… I don’t want to go home!” Myrcella’s face flushed as she shook her head forcefully, like she had made a great decision. She blurted out, “Lord, you know I’m a little younger than Arya, so… even if it happened later, I couldn’t escape it. I’ve run into the same trouble as she has.”

What trouble? Did she mean she started her period? That was a little late. But what did that have to do with him? Was she going to ask him to rub her belly?

Before Aegor could show his confusion, she continued, “Robb and Lady Catelyn picked a fiancé for me. His name is Meave Snow… Next year, or the year after at the latest, I’ll marry him.”

“Meave Snow?”

Aegor had no idea who that was, but judging by the surname, he was clearly a bastard. True, Myrcella now also carried the Snow name, but this still felt… off. He frowned. He had assumed the Starks wouldn’t mistreat her, but now he wasn’t so sure.

“He… he’s the bastard son of Lord Hornwood. Since the Lord’s eldest son died in the war, it’s said he might be legitimized as heir. Lady Catelyn told me that if I marry him, I’ll likely become Lady Hornwood in the future.”

So, a power play again? As Robb’s mother and one of the highest-ranking women in the North, Catelyn certainly had the influence to help shape the Hornwood succession. Her “most likely” could be read as “almost certainly.”

“So, you don’t like the boy?” Aegor’s frown deepened. While House Hornwood wasn’t as powerful as Karstark or Umber, it was still one of the North’s top ten families. Given Myrcella’s current public identity as Meave Snow, this arrangement was basically treating her as a true Stark daughter.

She was smart enough not to cling to her past as a princess and expect to marry a prince… right?

“No… I’ve never even met him. So how can I say whether I like him or not?” Myrcella shook her head again and again, more and more hesitant. “It’s just… living in a cold, gloomy castle, using the birthing bed as a battlefield, taking care of my husband, raising his heirs as my duty… That’s really not the life I want. I know I’m asking too much, but I still worked up the courage to beg you, Lord… could you take me with you when you go South? Didn’t you promise Arya before that you would change the Night’s Watch rules after defeating the White Walkers and allow women to join… I was thinking, maybe… maybe I could too…”

As she spoke, her eyes began to shine. But rather than the result of fear, the tears glistening in her eyes came mostly from sorrow.

Only a few minutes had passed since she accidentally discovered Aegor pretending to be unconscious, but it had been enough for Myrcella to piece together the bigger picture. Sharing a room with Arya, she had naturally noticed that the “culprit” behind the poisoning had recently framed Arya, resulting in her being seized by the Queen’s Guard. Though she didn’t know how Aegor had executed such a swift, meticulous plan and forced the prisoner to commit suicide while under Unsullied custody, she now at least knew the result: someone had wronged Arya, and Aegor had taken out both the culprit and the person behind it in one move.

The method may have been heavy-handed, even overkill, but to a girl living under someone else’s roof, who had tasted hardship… while it made her uneasy, it also stirred a feeling stronger than fear—envy, to the point of jealousy.

How happy would it be to have someone so strong and decisive standing behind her, protecting her no matter the means… rather than having someone like Uncle Jaime or her father, who acted on impulse, disregarding the feelings or safety of others?

But she didn’t have that.

On the contrary, now she had to scramble to prove she wasn’t a threat, to gain the trust of a man who would kill for another girl, just so she could survive.

Compared to that… how could she not feel aggrieved?

(To be continued.)

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep