Chapter 710

Baelor Hightower acted just in time to stop his younger brother from committing an irreversible mistake.

A sharp reprimand snapped Humphrey’s attention back to reality.

“Lord Hand—what—you… You call that a reasonable request?!”

Humphrey Hightower, still too young to temper his emotions, turned red with rage at Aegor’s audacity. His temples throbbed, and his whole body tensed—a reaction sharp enough that it immediately drew the wary gazes of Aegor’s guards.

“Do you have no parents of your own?!”

Baelor’s heart sank.

He had feared this.

But it was already too late.

Aegor wasn’t a man to be argued with. He wasn’t going to engage in a battle of rhetoric or negotiation.

No.

What he was about to do was deliver a plain, unbreakable, and inescapable move—one that could neither be resisted nor countered.

For all his experience in noble diplomacy, for all the games he had played at court, Baelor had never encountered such blatant, undisguised demolition of the aristocracy’s unspoken rules.

This was not subtle.

This was a direct assault on the foundations of noble privilege.
----


But Aegor didn’t care.

It wasn’t about being cruel—it was about efficiency.

If he allowed an exception for Lord Leyton Hightower simply because of his age, then soon, half the Reach would be mysteriously bedridden and unfit to travel.

Yes, Lord Leyton might genuinely be frail.

But if he stayed, what then?

Should a few of his children remain behind to care for him?

How many servants?

How many guards?

Where was the line drawn?

No.

The answer was simple.

“No exceptions.”
----


“Well then, go,” Aegor said, as if granting a simple favor.

“Take your brother with you.”

He allowed them their exit without the slightest reprimand for Humphrey’s outburst.

Then, just as Baelor felt the smallest relief, Aegor delivered his second blow.

“The two of you may leave.

“But everyone else stays.

“I have matters to discuss.”

Baelor’s relief turned to ice.

Aegor was clearly planning to settle accounts with House Hightower.

And worse…

There was no telling if these were his own orders, or if they came directly from the Queen herself.

With the Tyrells already subdued, and with House Hightower’s own doors thrown wide open in surrender, the city of Oldtown was defenseless.

There was no military option.

No resistance to be mustered.

The other nobles and guild leaders present—merchants, maesters, and clerics—were no fools.

They had already demonstrated their loyalty with polite words and warm smiles.

And now, sensing the danger in lingering too long, they wisely excused themselves without hesitation.

“There’s no need, Lord Hand! We shall take our leave.”

One by one, they bowed, turned, and left—every single one of them, save for the Hightowers themselves.

Baelor stiffened.

Aegor had bypassed the noble house entirely.

He was addressing Oldtown’s power structure directly.

This was not a friendly discussion.
----


“You mentioned the Queen ‘invited’ our whole family,” Baelor forced himself to say, still trying to steer the conversation.

“Surely that does not include my father, Lord Leyton?

“He has not handled governance for years. He and my sister have secluded themselves atop the Hightower, devoted to their studies…

“He is elderly and unaccustomed to travel. The journey to King’s Landing is long.

“If something were to happen to him along the way, what would you have us do?”
----


Aegor met Baelor’s gaze.

He saw the growing fear.

The realization that this was not a negotiation.

Aegor tilted his head slightly.

“Then you’d best set out early.

“A slower journey is safer for the elderly.”

Baelor’s fingers clenched beneath the table.

Aegor’s tone was utterly impassive.

“And as for the discomfort of the road?”

A pause.

“You could take a ship.”

Baelor felt his stomach twist.

His mind raced for any counterargument, but before he could speak, Aegor had already leaned back, arms folding across his chest, settling comfortably into his seat.

His eyes, however, never left Baelor.

Baelor realized then that this was over.
----


“Ser Baelor,” Aegor said smoothly, “do you need assistance?

“You seem… hesitant.”

He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing with mock concern.

“Are your legs stiff?

“Shall I have someone escort you out?”

A nerve twitched in Baelor’s jaw.

Aegor had trapped him.

Refusing outright would be open defiance.

Agreeing would mean walking willingly into submission.

Baelor turned to anyone in the room for support.

But the assembled leaders of Oldtown—the High Septon, the Archmaester, the guildmasters—remained utterly silent.

None of them would stand against Aegor.

None of them would risk being dragged down with House Hightower.

They had already seen the truth.

The Queen’s Hand was not here to negotiate.

He was here to dictate terms.

Baelor’s throat was dry as he forced a slow nod.

“… We will make the necessary arrangements.”
----


“Excellent.”

Aegor’s expression barely shifted, but Baelor could tell:

He had expected this outcome from the very start.
----


And then, with the matter of House Hightower’s relocation settled, Aegor turned his attention back to the room.

He addressed those who remained.

“Her Majesty originally intended to appoint a governor to rule Oldtown in House Hightower’s absence.”

He let the words sink in.

A governor.

An outsider.

An invasive ruler from beyond the city walls.

“However,” Aegor continued, “I advised against it.”

“An appointed lord, unfamiliar with local customs, would struggle to govern effectively.

“Instead, I have proposed an alternative.

“Oldtown will be granted autonomy.”

Silence.

Then, disbelief.

The assembled figures exchanged glances, uncertain how to react.

Aegor let them stew for a moment before explaining further.

“A council will be formed.

“I leave it to you—the people of Oldtown—to elect representatives to oversee the city’s governance in House Hightower’s absence.

“A system similar to a parliament, where authority is exercised collectively rather than by a single ruler.”
----


Baelor’s body locked.

This was worse than anything he had expected.

It wasn’t just relocation.

It wasn’t just political maneuvering.

Aegor was restructuring Oldtown itself.

This was not merely a temporary absence.

This was a complete removal of House Hightower’s grip on the city.

Aegor had executed this plan flawlessly.

The council structure would be established before they ever reached King’s Landing.

By the time they returned?

The system would be entrenched.

It would be Oldtown’s new reality.

And House Hightower would find itself ruling a city that no longer needed them.

Baelor’s hands clenched into fists beneath the table.

He wanted to scream.

But he didn’t.

Because there was nothing he could say.