Chapter 571

"Your goal is to unite the Seven Kingdoms and establish a new order to break the wheel of history," Aegor declared, cutting straight to the heart of the matter before Daenerys could even react. "Thus, Your Grace, the main contradiction you must face is this: the conflict between you, who seeks to establish a new order, and the enemies who want to stop you."

Is he trying to teach me how to rule again?

Daenerys shifted uncomfortably, suppressing her irritation. She admired Aegor's thorough understanding of the Seven Kingdoms' political landscape and his bold ambition in proposing the grand plan for the Crownlands. However, she didn’t believe he was always right. Yet, the authority he exuded as a "teacher" was undeniable. She couldn't ignore him, and despite herself, she felt a flicker of anticipation to learn something new. After a moment of deliberation, she attempted to counter his argument within his own framework:

"Poisoning my trusted advisors was clearly an attempt to stop me from establishing this new order. Wouldn't the mastermind behind this be my main enemy? Shouldn’t dealing with them be my top priority?"

At least she’s thinking critically, Aegor thought, silently thanking his pre-transmigration self for actually paying attention in political science classes instead of just playing on his phone. Without those lectures and rhetoric tricks, he’d be hard-pressed to respond to such a pointed question.

"Your Grace raises a valid point," he conceded, "but your argument actually supports the detailed explanation of the theory I just mentioned. That is—primary and secondary contradictions are interdependent." Aegor extended his hand and began counting on his fingers. "Like a hand—without the palm, there are no fingers; without the fingers, the palm's function is incomplete. The poisoning of your advisors is a means to the end of stopping your new order, while stopping your new order is the ultimate goal of clipping your wings. The primary contradiction gives rise to secondary contradictions, and the existence of the secondary highlights the significance of the primary. Do you see the relationship here?"

What’s so hard to understand about that?

"So?" Daenerys shrugged and tilted her chin up, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. "Are you trying to convince me that because the poisoning is a secondary contradiction, I shouldn't bother investigating it?"

"No, quite the opposite," Aegor replied. "The person who orchestrated the poisoning is undoubtedly one of your main enemies, and dealing with them is certainly important. But in such critical moments, we must keep a clear head: it’s not that ‘the person who poisoned your advisors has become your enemy,’ but rather, ‘your enemy, finding you a threat, sought to harm your advisors.’ Clarifying the cause and effect makes the primary and secondary issues evident. And once our minds are clear, our actions will follow suit: we fight our enemies—not because they poisoned your advisors, but because they are your enemies!"

"Once that’s clear, we can approach the real question: what does it truly mean to fight against your enemies? Is it to uncover the truth and publicly accuse them of poisoning your advisors? No. Engaging in verbal battles is a last resort for the powerless. But we are not powerless. Instead, we must do what truly terrifies our enemies!"

Aegor emphasized his final words, then looked Daenerys squarely in the eyes. "And what terrifies your enemies most is only one thing: putting the poisoning case aside for now and focusing wholeheartedly on the southern campaign!"

...

A deep, coarse breath suddenly rumbled nearby. The green dragon, curled up in its lair, seemed to take an interest in the mention of the southern campaign. Its massive head emerged, blowing hot air as it drew closer to the two of them.

"Focusing wholeheartedly on the southern campaign?" Daenerys repeated, patting Rhaegal's massive head as she spoke. Aegor’s reasoning was a bit convoluted, but the internal logic was simple, and the conclusion was clear. It made sense, though the flames of anger burning in her chest refused to extinguish so easily. "Fine. If the one behind this is the pretender Stannis, it makes no difference whether I investigate or not—I’ll fight him to the death regardless. But what if it’s someone else? What if it’s the Iron Bank, trying to pressure me into repaying the usurper’s debts? Or Prince Aegon, who once sought an alliance through marriage? If those forces are behind this, and I remain unaware, believing them neutral or even potential allies, wouldn’t that place me in grave danger?"

Perfect. That’s exactly what I want you to think. Aegor suppressed a grin. Letting her form suspicions herself was far more effective—and subtle—than him outright voicing them.

"Once again, it’s about distinguishing between primary and secondary issues," he continued. "Unifying the Seven Kingdoms is the primary goal. Everything else is secondary. The purpose of making this distinction is to craft a coherent strategy: determining what to prioritize and what to delay. Tell me, Your Grace—if the mastermind truly is the Iron Bank or Aegon, would you abandon the pretender on the Iron Throne and wage war against Braavos or the Golden Company instead?

"Of course, if we had unlimited manpower, time, and resources, I’d gladly investigate the poisoning while preparing for the southern campaign. But reality demands trade-offs. If I dedicate all my efforts to the investigation, who will rally the northern lords? Who will lead the campaign? Missandei, your loyal scribe? Grey Worm, your steadfast guard? Loyal as they are, they aren’t suited to such tasks. And every day we linger here squandering our momentum and supplies, we lose both our edge and the patience of our allies."

Rhaegal nudged closer to Aegor and lowered its head, seemingly expecting the same affection Daenerys had shown it. Awkwardly, Aegor mimicked her motions, patting its head and scratching its chin. Satisfied, the dragon retreated to its lair.

The sight left Daenerys stunned. Her dragons rarely showed affection to anyone besides her. The exceptions had been limited to those with Valyrian blood.

Could Aegor have Valyrian ancestry? Or was it because she’d saved his life with her blood, leaving her scent on him?

"Dragons must hate this northern cold," Aegor remarked suddenly, changing the subject without warning.

For once, Daenerys fully agreed. Both dragons, though healed, remained cooped up in their lairs, eating less than usual. And now, with his interruption, she couldn’t even remember where their conversation had left off.

Oh, right. Prioritization.

His reasoning was compelling, nearly persuasive. Nearly. But not quite.

Before Daenerys could retort, Aegor pressed on.

"Your Grace, I share your anger and desire for justice. I swear to pursue this matter relentlessly—by any means necessary, no matter the cost or time required. But one thing must remain clear: reclaiming the Iron Throne is paramount. Once we’ve achieved that, we can dedicate the full resources of the realm to uncovering the truth. Compared to the ease of conducting such an investigation from King’s Landing, fumbling around here in the North is both ineffective and impractical. Even Petyr and Varys, were their spirits watching from the heavens, would likely agree with me."

Daenerys said nothing, her chest heaving as she turned toward Rhaegal’s lair. She was furious at Aegor’s defiance, yet his apparent devotion to her cause left her without an outlet for her anger. Her mind raced, chaotic and conflicted. Eventually, she managed to mutter a reluctant compromise.

"Report any progress to me."

"Of course, Your Grace," Aegor replied, visibly relieved. Sensing her displeasure, he softened his tone to ease the tension. "So, when do you plan to summon the northern lords and begin preparations for the campaign?"

"In two days," Daenerys said curtly, turning to head toward Drogon’s lair. "I need time to prepare and recover."

"Take all the time you need," Aegor said as he followed. "But remember, every day we delay drains our supplies, strains our allies' patience, and pushes back the investigation. The enemy won’t wait for us to be ready. I suggest summoning the lords today—strike while the iron is hot. By midday, they could be here. By nightfall, they could swear fealty, and after dinner, we could begin planning the campaign. Speed is essential... and we’ve wasted enough time already."

Matching her pace, he added, "Of course, it’s only a suggestion. The final decision is yours, Your Grace."