Chapter 556

Should she feel relieved, or should she lament the predictability of it all?

“For what purpose have you come?” Daenerys asked, her tone cool yet guarded.

Melisandre shook her head, her red robes swaying softly with the motion. “Your Grace, that is not the question you should be asking me. The question is: what are you still doing here?”

Missandei, standing nearby, muttered under her breath—a seemingly nonsensical comment that subtly reminded Daenerys not to take the Red Priestess’s words at face value. After all, even the high priests of R’hllor could have their own agendas.

Daenerys’s mood, initially steeped in sorrow, quickly shifted to irritation. The priestess’s words, laced with enigmatic overtones, struck her as both dismissive and patronizing. So, after all that talk, Aegor was somehow going to survive, wasn’t he? A part of her felt anger rise within—how convenient it all seemed.

And yet, Daenerys couldn't ignore the context. The Red God’s servants, mysterious as they were, had helped her rise to power. The High Priest Benerro had declared her the prophesied savior, the “Child of Destiny,” and the Red Temple had bolstered her claim on both sides of the Narrow Sea. Another of R’hllor’s chosen, the priest Marqilo, had once guided her through perilous times.

But Marqilo was long gone, having fulfilled his mission before returning to Volantis, leaving Daenerys to rely on others, such as Melisandre. Despite herself, Daenerys found that she could not outright dismiss the priestess.

“Your Grace, you mustn’t!” Missandei’s sudden outburst startled both Daenerys and Melisandre. In her concern, Missandei had abandoned all pretense of formality. “This is clearly a trap!”

Daenerys exchanged a glance with Missandei. For a brief moment, they both seemed to see the same doubt reflected in each other’s eyes.

“We all respect you, Lady Melisandre,” Missandei said, stepping forward to shield Daenerys with her words. “But this is Her Grace’s chamber. She needs no justification for her actions here. I suggest you remember that.”

Melisandre’s expression remained impassive. “I know whose chamber this is,” she replied coolly, her voice carrying the faintest hint of disdain. Her gaze shifted back to Daenerys. “But your Grace, with three of your most trusted advisors poisoned—two dead and one gravely ill—you do nothing to save the survivor, nor do you leave this castle to prevent the unrest brewing among the Gifted Lands army. Instead, you hide here under the Unsullied’s protection. What exactly are you waiting for? A miracle?”

Daenerys didn’t rise to the bait. In truth, she had already resolved to leave Winterfell before Melisandre’s arrival had interrupted her. She exchanged a glance with Missandei, and the two silently agreed not to reveal their plans.

“Very well, Lady Melisandre,” Daenerys said, her tone measured. “Why are you here?”

The priestess hesitated for a moment, then sighed and walked toward the guest chair. She lowered herself onto it, her movements slow and deliberate, as though the effort taxed her greatly. Her normally radiant face was pale, her eyes shadowed with fatigue.

“Because I have already done all I could,” Melisandre began, her voice calm but edged with exhaustion. “I spent the entire afternoon sustaining the Lord Commander’s life, battling against the poison with my magic. The toxin is unlike anything I’ve encountered before—stronger than anything I anticipated. I am drained, Your Grace, and though he still breathes, I fear that without further intervention, his life will slip away.”

“Further intervention?” Daenerys’s voice hardened. “What do you mean?”

Melisandre fixed her crimson gaze on Daenerys. “I know a form of blood magic. It is ancient, powerful… and dangerous. With the blood of a true dragon, I could channel that energy into the Lord Commander, pulling him back from the brink of death. But this is no simple task, Your Grace. The question is—how much does this Night’s Watch commander mean to you? And do you have the courage to make such a sacrifice?”

The room fell silent. Daenerys’s mind raced. Blood magic. She was no stranger to its promises or its perils. From Mirri Maz Duur’s treachery in the Lazarene tent to her own studies of dragon lore in Asshai, she had seen firsthand the cost of such power. And yet… she couldn’t deny its efficacy.

“Why did you fail?” she finally asked, her voice soft but laced with bitterness. “You said you could save him. Why didn’t it work?”

Melisandre’s expression was unreadable. “Because no magic is limitless. I have already poured everything I had into sustaining him. But the poison is relentless, and the wine he drank was far more potent than anything I could have anticipated. Without additional help, his death is inevitable. Perhaps by dawn.”

The words struck Daenerys like a blow. She felt hollow, as if something vital had been taken from her. Yet, alongside the sorrow of potentially losing a trusted ally was a flicker of relief—if Aegor died, then she would never have to wrestle with her growing suspicions about him. But even as she considered this, guilt gnawed at her.

“You’re saying blood magic could save him?” Daenerys asked after a long pause, her voice carefully controlled.

“Yes.” Melisandre’s gaze was steady. “Your royal blood carries a unique power. I could use it to give him another chance at life. But the decision rests with you.”

Daenerys hesitated. If Aegor lived, he would forever remain a suspect in her mind. But if he died, she would lose one of her most valuable generals. Either choice carried risks.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Missandei, who spoke with urgency. “Your Grace, this is too dangerous! You must not go through with this.”

Melisandre shot the handmaid a sharp look. “Do not presume to interfere, child. This is a matter for the Queen to decide.”

Daenerys held up a hand, silencing them both. Her expression hardened, and she sat back in her chair, resuming the commanding posture of a queen.

“I will consider it,” she said. “But for now, I must prepare for my departure. Lady Melisandre, if you have nothing else to say, you are dismissed.”

The priestess rose slowly, inclining her head. “As you wish, Your Grace. But remember—there is no greater gift than life. I pray you choose wisely.”

With that, Melisandre swept out of the room, leaving Daenerys alone with her thoughts.