Chapter 531

The conversation paused, leaving only the sound of the wind to dominate the world once more.

After a few seconds of silence, Aegor finally shook off his shock.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t understand the implications of what Littlefinger had just said. Rather, his prolonged time in the North had left him disconnected from the real-time political landscape of the South. Most of his energy and intellect had been consumed by dealing with the North and formulating his strategy to crush the Seven Kingdoms in a sweeping conquest. As a result, he had been a step slower in vigilance than he should have been.

He could offer himself excuses, but there were two things Aegor had to admit:

First, when it came to political sensitivity and Machiavellian scheming, Petyr, as an experienced player, was far superior to him. Even if Aegor were placed in Littlefinger’s position with the same intelligence at his disposal, without the advantage of his transmigrator’s knowledge, he would have needed at least a whole night to piece everything together. There was no way he could have, like Littlefinger, started recruiting allies mere minutes after the meeting ended.

Second, though he disliked the man—perhaps even felt a visceral aversion to him—Petyr was, at this moment, his ally. He might well be just another kind of traitor, but unlike Varys, who had a foot in two boats and always left himself a way out, Littlefinger had bound his entire future and life to Daenerys. That meant, at least for now, he was truly loyal to the Queen.

Given that...

Aegor put on a serious expression. “If your speculation is true, then aren’t you, Her Majesty, and I all in grave danger? Lord Petyr... do you have a plan to counter this?”

He wanted to hear what this man had in mind. Not to blindly follow him like some puppet on a string, of course, but as a reference. There was no harm in listening.

“To be honest, there’s no perfect solution,” Littlefinger sighed. “This conjecture, of course, must never reach the Queen’s ears. If we were to bring this up now, Her Majesty would only see us as narrow-minded schemers, trying to slander and frame dissenters. We’d achieve nothing except drawing trouble onto ourselves. For now, the best we can do is take it one step at a time—hold our ground, wait for the enemy to make a mistake, and seize any openings they reveal.”

Then he turned his gaze to the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. In the dimming light, his eyes glimmered faintly.

“However, dealing with a wily old fox like this... I can’t guarantee victory alone. You, Lord Commander, are the shield of the realm and the protector of mankind, loyal and steadfast. I wonder... perhaps you and I could work together, to prevent our shared sovereign from stepping into a villain’s trap?”

Here it comes.

Roose Bolton was already a solid enemy—no room for reconciliation there. Varys likely despised him as well. Trying to stay neutral in the viper’s nest that was the Queen’s inner circle was a fool’s dream.

Today, there was no avoiding it. He had to take a side. The lines between allies and enemies were clear, leaving no room for hesitation.

Aegor’s mind raced through a dozen thoughts in less than a second. Outwardly, he did not hesitate in the slightest, nodding with righteous conviction.

“For the Queen, everything! If the Hand of the Queen has any need of my assistance, just say the word. I will not refuse!”
----


Night had finally fallen completely. The torches and braziers scattered throughout the castle cast long, twisting shadows against the stone walls. Skirting around the sept, the two men walked side by side, their shadows stretching into grotesque shapes as they continued discussing ways to “protect” their Queen.

“The Lord Commander comes from a martial background. You may not be familiar with the tricks of the political arena. Why don’t we divide our responsibilities?” Littlefinger suggested. “In the coming days, you should focus on leveraging your influence in the North—use your connections and network to ensure Northern support for the Queen. Meanwhile, I will handle Her Majesty. I’ll find a way to make her relax her conditions a little... and I’ll also keep a close eye on Varys, making sure he doesn’t pull any more tricks to trip us up. Being caught off guard by that spider once was enough. It won’t happen again. At the very least, I can ensure you won’t need to worry about a knife in the back.”

Littlefinger’s proposal came quickly, without unnecessary nonsense. Clearly, he had already thought this through.

“Of course,” he added, “this is merely a rough division of labor. It doesn’t mean you can’t meet with the Queen or that I won’t assist in rallying the Northern forces. Today’s events took us by surprise, so forgive me for not having a more refined strategy just yet. But our current predicament won’t be solved in a day or two. We should prepare to remain in Winterfell for at least a month. As allies, we must maintain close communication and coordination. Only by working together can we navigate these difficult times.”

“Naturally!” Aegor nodded eagerly, playing the obedient subordinate.

This Petyr Baelish was far sharper and more formidable than the greasy little man from the show. He was an ally for now, yes, but there was no telling when he might turn into an enemy.

Aegor had no illusions about outmaneuvering a high-level player like Littlefinger using pure political cunning. However, if the day came when they inevitably became foes, then it might be in his favor for Petyr to see him as nothing more than a simple-minded warrior with a bit of luck and small cleverness.

If he could pull that off, he might just land a decisive strike when his opponent least expected it.

To accomplish that, he needed to revive an old skill—one he hadn’t used in a long time.

He had to hide his fangs.

For the rest of the walk, the two men continued to fine-tune their division of labor, discussing possible methods to fulfill the Queen’s demands. Aegor spent most of the conversation nodding and agreeing, neither trying to steal the spotlight nor feigning ignorance too much.

By the end, they reached a mutual understanding: fulfilling the Queen’s mission to perfection was impossible.

The best course of action was to secure as much support from the Northern lords as possible—whether willing or coerced—and then convince the Queen that this was the best result she could hope for.

“Ah, one more thing, Lord Commander,” Petyr said suddenly as they were about to part ways.

Aegor turned, seeing an uncharacteristically serious expression on the man’s face.

“Recruit as many Northern lords as you can, but do not, under any circumstances, fake their allegiance. I know you had your men from the Gift pose as Winterfell’s guards—I noticed, and so did Varys. But that could be explained as a measure to protect Her Majesty. Even if the Queen finds out, she won’t be angry. However, if you have your men impersonate Northern nobles to fake support... that is a different story entirely. The Queen detests deception above all else. Even if you do it for her sake, once she finds out, the consequences will be dire.

This is a lesson paid for in blood... remember it well.”
----


Do I look that foolish?

Aegor did not feign surprise. He merely paused for a beat before nodding.

“Thank you for the warning, Lord Hand. I will remember it.”

It didn’t matter whether Littlefinger was boasting about having seen through Aegor’s ruse or genuinely offering advice out of goodwill.

What mattered now was getting out of this cold, bleak castle and onto the real battlefield of the South.

And that... would require some serious planning.

Rejoining his retinue of guards, Aegor walked toward his quarters, lost in thought.

His new opponent was troublesome. His new task was daunting. His mind was already stretched in too many directions.

It wasn’t until the next visitor called his name several times that he finally snapped back to reality.

“Lord Aegor!”

A small figure gazed up at him, as if wondering whether her voice was too soft or if he was simply ignoring her.

“Maeve?” He blinked before apologizing. “Ah... forgive me, I was lost in thought.”

Aegor smiled. And for once, it wasn’t an act.

It was hard to remain in a sour mood when face to face with someone as clever and endearing as Myrcella Baratheon.