Chapter 594

The Free Folk think the Gift and the North are the South, while the Dornish believe the Stormlands and King’s Landing are too far north. Is this not a perfect example of cultural and perceptual diversity?

Aegor chuckled and turned swiftly on his heel. “Of course, allow Blackwall Keep to extend its hospitality to you.”

The Queen needed the support of the Dornish army, while Arianne Martell sought Daenerys and Aegor’s endorsement of her inheritance. Both sides had their own ambitions and hidden motives, yet their outward demeanor remained cordial and amicable. Surrounded by the Unsullied and the Lord Commander’s personal guard, they moved toward Blackwall Keep in an atmosphere of warmth and mutual understanding.

To avoid any awkward silences, conversation was necessary—even if it meant grasping at any topic available.

Aegor first conveyed the Queen’s condolences regarding Prince Quentyn’s unfortunate demise in Meereen, then inquired—somewhat perfunctorily—about Prince Doran’s health. Only after these customary pleasantries did he introduce his guests to non-military aspects of the Gift, detailing its industries and how it had flourished before the war reached its borders.

Arianne, in turn, formally introduced her close companion—a tall, golden-haired, blue-eyed beauty—Tyene Sand, one of the infamous Sand Snakes and a daughter of Oberyn Martell.

One Dornish woman was curvaceous and full-figured, the other tall and slender, yet both exuded an effortless charm and familiarity. They chattered ceaselessly, lamenting the hardships and dangers of their journey from Dorne through war-torn lands and wilderness. Their curiosity was boundless—asking about the Gift’s army and its march south, the North’s allegiance to the Queen, and even the intensity of the Night’s Watch’s battles against the White Walkers.

Their conversation was a relentless stream of words. By the time they reached Blackwall Keep’s gates, it felt as if the brief walk had not been enough for all their pleasantries and small talk. When they finally entered the hall and took their seats at the long meeting table, they already seemed like old friends.

At least, on the surface.

“Ahem.” Aegor settled into his chair, shifting slightly for comfort before dismissing all unrelated personnel, save for Melisandre and Myrcella. Only then did he steer the conversation back on track. “Ladies, while I would be delighted to satisfy your curiosity, we will have ample time for stories over dinner. For now, I suggest we focus on the matter at hand.”

“Yes, we should get on with it,” Tyene Sand lifted her chin, exposing a sliver of her pale throat, and nodded with a touch of haughty impatience. “My father is currently drinking with the Tyrells in their Reach camp. If we don’t act quickly, they might strike a deal before we do, and this trip will have been for nothing.”

“What’s the rush?” Arianne shot her companion a reproachful glare before turning to Aegor with an apologetic smile. “Forgive her, she’s always been hot-tempered. So long as the Queen sincerely wishes to ally with Dorne, even agreements already made can always be... renegotiated.”

Oh?

Was that a threat?

Or were they playing a rehearsed act?

Aegor’s mind stirred as he glanced between the Sand Snake and the Dornish Princess. In an instant, he understood.

Arianne had not brought a bastard cousin along out of mere whimsy. She wanted to push for the best possible terms while also ensuring Aegor remained favorable toward her, hoping to secure his support in her bid for the Dornish throne. She needed to strike a hard bargain without creating tension.

And so, she had brought a partner—someone to say the harsh words she did not want to voice herself.

The contrast was amusing. The olive-skinned princess played the conciliatory role, while the fair-skinned Sand Snake acted as the sharp-tongued enforcer. An interesting arrangement.

Compared to the schemes of Petyr Baelish or Varys, this kind of minor deception was as transparent as air under the noonday sun. Aegor saw through it instantly. But he had no reason to expose them. Unlike the Margaery Tyrells of the world—who needed to be provoked—these Dornish women were better humored, left to believe they were winning the game.

“Oh? Then we’d best not waste time.” He played along, feigning urgency as he nodded in agreement. He gestured for Myrcella, who had already prepared the necessary documents, to lay out the map before them.

“Before we discuss terms, let me share a secret with my esteemed guests,” Aegor announced with deliberate intrigue. “The Queen’s ambitions do not end at merely reclaiming King’s Landing and the Iron Throne. She intends to eliminate a long-standing problem—one that past Targaryen kings failed to resolve.”

He pointed to King’s Landing, then traced an invisible line southwest along the Rose Road, stopping only when his finger hovered over Oldtown.

“Her Majesty will retrace Aegon the Conqueror’s path, marching from the Crownlands through the Reach, breaking apart the wealthiest and most populous region of Westeros into smaller, more manageable lordships and administrative districts. The previous Targaryen policy of balancing power proved insufficient. This time, the problem will be removed at its root.”

His voice carried weight. His words were calculated.

The moment he saw the shock flicker across the faces of the two Dornish women, he knew he had succeeded in stunning them.

And then, he shifted gears. “To accomplish this, the Queen requires more than just Unsullied and Gifted soldiers, even with dragons at her command. She needs allies willing to march beside her.”

Seeing their reactions, Aegor smiled and pressed forward. “In return for Dorne’s support, the Queen has prepared three great rewards.”

“First, spoils of war.” His finger moved to the southern border of the Reach, tracing the boundary between the Red Mountains and the fertile lands beyond. “For too long, the border has been an unnatural divide—fertile lands in the Reach, desert in Dorne. This imbalance has long threatened Dorne’s self-sufficiency. That changes now.”

He tapped the map in three places—Boneway, the Prince’s Pass, and the western coastline near Honeywine. “The peninsula south of Storm’s End, the lands north of the Prince’s Pass, and a strip of fertile land south of Oldtown’s riverbanks. These regions will be Dornish.”

Arianne and Tyene were silent—not because they had nothing to say, but because they were stunned.

Such an immense territorial gain—and this was only the first reward?

Aegor withdrew his hand, satisfied with their reaction. He had deliberately led with the biggest incentive. Truthfully, he was confident that this alone would be enough to secure Dorne’s allegiance. The Reach could never match such an offer—Tyrells would never give up their own lands.

“Second, political status.” He leaned in, voice steady. “The Reach has openly declared for the pretender Aegon. Such treachery cannot go unpunished. Their title—‘Warden of the South’—must be reallocated. If Dorne supports the Queen’s war, House Martell may choose either that title or a permanent seat on Her Majesty’s council.”

A breath of excitement. A twitch of Tyene’s fingers. Arianne, more controlled, cast a glance at her companion before looking back at Aegor.

“Of course, the final reward is justice,” he declared, his voice lowering as he delivered the most emotionally charged proposal yet. “The world remembers what happened in the Red Keep—the brutal slaughter of Princess Elia Martell and her children. The Lannisters claim it was the work of Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch alone, but we all know the truth. The Queen will demand Tywin Lannister’s abdication, forcing him into the Night’s Watch. His family will be stripped of any claim to Westeros.”

Tyene scoffed. “And if he refuses?”

Aegor’s tone turned sharp. “Then he will have only one other option—death.”

Silence. Heavy. Laden with meaning.

“The choice is yours, Princess Arianne.” He leaned back, arms crossed. “If my proposal is acceptable, we may discuss the finer details. If not, I will arrange for you to return to your camp. What will it be?”