Chapter 535

Out of caution and respect for his ally, Aegor met with Littlefinger before seeing Robb Stark, briefing him on Myrcella’s proposal under the guise of presenting his own thoughts.

Unsurprisingly, the idea of releasing the wolf back into the wild startled the Hand of the Queen. However, Myrcella’s classification of the Northern lords into three groups—those easily swayed, those difficult to persuade, and those impossible to win over—earned Petyr’s approval.

That said, while he praised the clarity of the approach, he also offered his own perspective.

“In theory, we can categorize the Northern lords as such,” Petyr said seriously. “But in practice, you cannot simply abandon those deemed ‘impossible to win over.’ If we don’t make an effort to negotiate with them, they’ll later claim we never even attempted diplomacy, and they’ll use that as an excuse to reject our rule and evade responsibility for the consequences.”

He then gave Aegor a pointed look. “I assume you’re familiar with the overall structure of the Northern nobility, Lord Commander? I’ve spent many years overseas—I trust your knowledge is superior to mine.”

“Of course. The most notable noble houses of the North are as follows: the Karstarks of Karhold, the Manderlys of White Harbor, the Glovers of Deepwood Motte, the Mormonts of Bear Island, the Ryswells of the Rills, the Dustins of Barrowton, the Reeds of Greywater Watch, the Tallharts of Torrhen’s Square, the Howes of Howes Castle, the Lockes of Oldcastle… and the two branches of House Flint from Widow’s Watch and Flint’s Finger.”

Aegor had already organized his thoughts beforehand, so his recitation came smoothly, almost like an inventory check. “The Queen has demanded loyalty from all Northern lords, but I believe only these houses—those who swear fealty directly to House Stark—are worth counting. The vassals sworn to them should be considered their responsibility. Otherwise, we’re undertaking an impossible task.”

“Agreed. Even if Varys or Roose Bolton objects, we should be able to convince the Queen to accept this reasoning.” Seeing that his new ally had a firm grasp of the situation, Littlefinger seemed reassured, and his tone grew more relaxed. “This is every house directly sworn to House Stark, then? Feels like something’s missing…”

“I was just getting to that,” Aegor nodded. “Beyond those I mentioned, we also have the Boltons of the Dreadfort, the Cerwyns of Cerwyn Castle, the various mountain clans… the Skagosi of Skagos… and the Umbers of Last Hearth.”

“Of these, the Boltons have already sworn fealty to the Queen, so we can ignore them. Clay Cerwyn is currently imprisoned in Winterfell; if Lady Stark speaks to him, he’ll likely bend the knee. The mountain clans, though technically sworn to House Stark, have long been under my influence through trade, supplies, and military support—I only need to give the word, and they’ll accept Daenerys as their Queen.

“As for Skagos… well, they’re a bunch of primitive savages who eat their dead. I doubt the Queen even knows they exist, nor do I think she needs their loyalty. And as for House Umber… on the surface, they were wiped out by the White Walkers. But as it happens, I have a plan to revive them—and have them swear fealty to the Queen.”

Aegor then summarized Myrcella’s suggestion: if no legitimate Umber heirs were found, a suitable replacement could be installed, ensuring the house’s survival under his control. Naturally, he left out any mention of Myrcella’s involvement.

“Brilliant, Lord Commander!” Littlefinger’s eyes gleamed as he extended a hand and began ticking off houses with his fingers. “So, the Karstarks, Manderlys, Glovers…”

Watching Petyr Baelish counting on his fingers like a child was certainly an odd experience, but given the sheer number of Northern houses and their intricate relationships, it was understandable. Even for someone as sharp as Baelish, keeping track of them all at once wasn’t easy.

A few seconds later, he lowered his hand. “We only need to secure the loyalty of twelve houses, and we can confidently tell the Queen that all noble houses north of the Neck have sworn allegiance to her?”

“Exactly.”

“Hmm…”

Littlefinger’s excitement faded into a frown. Twelve might not sound like much, but each of these houses ruled vast lands, commanded thousands, and carried centuries of pride and tradition.

In normal times, securing the loyalty of just one of these houses would require careful negotiation, strategic incentives, and painstaking persuasion.

Now, they had to win over twelve—all at once. And quickly.

Neither of them had the luxury of splitting into multiple versions of themselves to handle negotiations personally. Worse, for their own safety—and the Queen’s—it was unwise to leave Winterfell unattended, lest Varys exploit their absence.

That meant they had to delegate. But how?

“House Stark has already declared its support for the Queen. At least on the surface, the North belongs to her now. That political reality is our greatest advantage.” Littlefinger tapped his fingers against his arm, deep in thought. “If we use that to its fullest… those open to negotiation can be bought with incentives. Those who refuse can be branded as traitors, forcing their peers to reconsider their loyalties. Changing their stance won’t be as difficult as it seems.”

He exhaled and nodded to himself before turning back to Aegor. “House Baelish’s lands are close to the Bite. The soil is poor, and we rely on trade with White Harbor to sustain our coffers. Before I became Master of Coin, I was involved in trade negotiations, and I’ve maintained decent relations with the Manderlys and the Lockes. I’ll personally write to them and send reliable agents to make contact. But as for the remaining ten houses… I wouldn’t even recognize half of their lords if they stood in front of me. We’ll need another approach.”

Aegor considered his own connections. “Two years ago, I led a campaign to drive the ironborn out of Deepwood Motte. I personally saved Robert Glover’s wife and children—I have a strong chance of securing his loyalty.

“As for House Mormont… the former Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch was a Mormont. The Northern fleet I helped establish operates out of Ice Bay, and we’ve cooperated frequently. If I send the same man who returned Jeor Mormont’s remains to them, they may at least be open to negotiation.”

“Then there are the Flints of Widow’s Watch and Flint’s Finger. Their ancestors were mountain clansmen, granted land for their service. They still maintain ties with the mountain clans—I’ll have their chieftains send envoys to persuade them.”

Counting his contacts, Aegor realized something.

He actually had quite a few.

“If we stretch our definition a bit,” he added, “we could include House Reed of Greywater Watch. Meera Reed and her brother, Jojen, once aided Bran Stark beyond the Wall. When they returned, they stayed briefly at a Night’s Watch outpost under my command. It’s a weak connection, but it’s something.”

“I’ve heard of Howland Reed,” Littlefinger said. “Unlike most Northerners, he’s more like a riverlord—pragmatic, flexible. If the price is right, he’ll accept. My only concern is whether your men can find Greywater Watch. The place is rumored to move.”

“The castle doesn’t move,” Aegor corrected with a smirk. “The landscape shifts—marshes, trees, and rivers change constantly. People who try to navigate based on memory get lost and assume the castle is moving. Fortunately, the winter has frozen the Neck solid. Its location hasn’t changed in months, and my men visited recently.”

“Then let’s hope it goes smoothly,” Littlefinger sighed. “Even in the best-case scenario, we’re still left with five unaccounted houses: the Karstarks, Ryswells, Dustins, Tallharts, and Howes. Do we have no means of reaching them?”

“No useful connections.” Aegor shrugged. “And worse—some actively dislike me. The Karstarks opposed my election as Lord Commander from the start.”

“Damn it.” Littlefinger cursed, his frustration evident.

Aegor smirked. “So, what do you think, Lord Hand? Shall we talk to Robb Stark?”

Littlefinger’s expression darkened—then, with a sigh, he nodded.

“Fine. We speak with him. If we find a better option, we cancel the plan. If not… we take the risk.”

Aegor chuckled. “Then, Lord Hand… after you.”