Chapter 401

Daenerys raised an eyebrow. Aegor's words struck a chord deep within her, and she had to summon all her willpower to maintain a composed expression. Yet, the shock coursed through her like an electric current, from her spine to the back of her head. She wanted to break the awkward silence with a quip like, “You’re quite the flatterer,” but then remembered she had already complimented him similarly during their meeting on Dragonstone. Swallowing her words, she instead reappraised the man standing across the table, a glimmer of disbelief gradually surfacing in her eyes.

If she had been familiar with the concept, only one thought would have filled her mind: Could it be that she had encountered a kindred spirit?

Her perspective on the situation shifted; the tension in her grip on the fork hidden under the table slowly loosened. Another thought sprang to mind as she recalled something else. “That book—did you really write it?”

The situation had diverged from Aegor’s expectations, but his clever maneuver had steered the conversation back on track. Finally, he had found his opening, the chance to guide the discussion toward the direction he wanted.

“Did Your Grace not wonder, as you read the first half, why such a book—a work that aligns perfectly with your ideals and addresses Westeros’ current state—exists? A book seemingly written just for you, yet one you’d never heard of before?” Aegor adopted a mysterious smile and shrugged. “The answer is simple: there’s no mystery. I wrote this book specifically for you, to test whether you are the queen I imagined you to be.”

...

Outside, shouts of alarm from the guards were drowned out by the sudden rush of wind and the snarls of mighty beasts. Daenerys’s three dragons, led by Drogon, had flown from their distant perch to the skies above the tiny lake in Faircrown. Circling just above the tower, they awaited their mother’s command—ready to reduce the town to ash or descend to her rescue at a moment’s notice. Yet the black dragon could sense a shift in its bonded mother’s emotions: from tension and wariness to a blend of anger, curiosity, and exhilaration.

Even as she reassured Drogon mentally to hold off from any rash actions, Daenerys casually placed her fork back on the table. She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair with an air of ease, stretching slightly as though she had just finished a meal.

With the dragons present, her confidence and composure had fully returned. “So,” she said with renewed strength, “you’ve managed to lure me here. Am I the queen you imagined me to be?”

“Yes... and no.” Aegor nodded approvingly, pleased with how smoothly her retorts aligned with his intended direction for the conversation. The stage was set. Now came the main performance. “You are indeed the queen I envisioned—a ruler who cares deeply for the people and is filled with a passion for reform. Yet, you seem lost. Tell me, Your Grace, you have these noble ideals, but do you know how to bring them into reality? Not specific plans, but at least a general direction?”

Of course... she didn’t.

If she had, would she be so desperate to read the second half of the heavily modified The Prince? So desperate that she had ridden her dragon here herself? The first half, which Aegor had given her as a gift, was filled with theories and ideas that resonated with her deeply, capturing her approval and even moments of revelation. But just as the examples and arguments reached their peak, building toward the practical solutions she craved, the pages abruptly ended. The final page was a cruel cliffhanger, leaving her dangling in unbearable suspense.

“Commander,” Daenerys said coldly, masking her unease. “I detest being lied to. If you expect me to forgive this deception, you had better be the author of that book and able to provide a second half that satisfies me.”

...

If Daenerys’s identity and claim to the throne were to be acknowledged, she stood as the rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms and all of Westeros. And if the world of ice and fire held no greater empire—a sprawling, centralized dominion across continents—this might well be Aegor’s last chance to influence someone of higher status. Succeeding here would allow him to shape, even control, her thoughts and decisions. Achieving this would be his ultimate victory.

For this day, he had prepared in countless ways, night after night.

“I will do my utmost,” Aegor said, tilting his head slightly as the sound of dragon wings faded. “But before we begin, I must ask one thing of Your Grace: no matter what you hear today, whether you believe it or not, whether you accept or reject it, you must promise not to disclose this to anyone—not even your most trusted advisors.”

The request was excessive. How could she determine whether Aegor was misleading her or setting a trap without consulting her trusted counselors? Daenerys frowned. “Very well. Let’s hear what you have to say.”

After all, she reasoned, he could speak all he wanted. Whether or not she shared his words was entirely up to her. Unlike the rigid and unyielding Stannis, Daenerys was far more flexible with promises and rules.

Aegor nodded, taking a deep breath before beginning. “If Your Grace has a good memory, you may recall that in the first half of the book, I described the world’s nations as falling into two categories: centralized autocracies and feudal aristocracies. The former is ruled by a single king, served only by his officials. Westeros, however, is the latter: the Seven Kingdoms are like a vast wilderness filled with packs of wild dogs—nobles clustering here and there. They constantly fight for power, scheme against one another, and hold grudges over scraps of land or titles. It’s easy for an outsider to exploit these divisions, rally factions to their cause, and topple the reigning monarch. History has shown this time and again.”

“I am the rightful monarch of the Seven Kingdoms, neither a rebel nor an usurper.”

“This is not about legitimacy,” Aegor replied calmly. “It’s a simple fact. In a feudal state like this, taking power is as easy as finding the right allies and exploiting the divisions. Then, you need only defeat the reigning monarch and eradicate their bloodline. Once that is done, the remaining lords, lacking leadership or will to resist, will submit. The most recent example is Your Grace’s own situation. If you take King’s Landing and eliminate Stannis, you will immediately control the Crownlands and Stormlands. With a little effort, you could sway Dorne and the Reach to your side, securing half the realm. After that, the Riverlands, which have no natural defenses, are an easy conquest, and the Westerlands, weakened from the last war, won’t resist for long. Finally, only the North and the Vale, protected by the Neck and the Bloody Gate, might hold out for a time. But even they would succumb under the dragons’ shadow if you offered them terms of surrender.”

“Accurate enough,” Daenerys thought. In fact, it was entirely correct, except she was stuck on the first step—defeating Stannis, a formidable obstacle that had halted her advance. “And then?”

"There is no 'then.' I brought this up only to introduce a crucial concept before we continue." Aegor’s tone was calm. "That concept is the 'Easy to Conquer, Hard to Rule' principle. That is: the easier it is to seize power, the harder it is to maintain control afterward. The more effortlessly you gain power, the more external forces you must rely on, and the more of the old guard and former nobility you will have to keep in place. Once these people become your ministers and supporters in your new regime, they will form an entrenched interest group. Unless you completely avoid infringing on their privileges, they will inevitably become obstacles to your rule."

Aegor started by referencing the modified content from The Prince (Part One), not only to ensure continuity and make his ideas easier to understand but also for another purpose: to subtly establish a psychological advantage.

Once their discussion centered on the points raised in Part One, Daenerys would soon realize that Aegor was intimately familiar with its contents—able to recite them fluently, proving beyond doubt that he was its true author. And this process of unconsciously acknowledging him as the book's writer would simultaneously transfer the admiration and reverence she had previously harbored for its mysterious author onto the very person before her—Aegor himself.

When an author discusses their own work with a reader, the former naturally holds the overwhelming advantage.

"'Easy to Conquer, Hard to Rule' principle?" Daenerys murmured the term softly, completely unaware that her attitude toward Aegor had already begun to shift—unconsciously, she had grown more respectful. At this moment, it was as if she had returned to childhood, once again a student, while the man before her was her teacher.

"Exactly. To give a practical example: If Your Grace wishes to reclaim the Iron Throne, the simplest method would be to recognize Aegon Targaryen’s legitimacy, marry him, and form alliances with as many great lords as possible—Dorne, the Reach, and so forth. The more major nobles join your cause, the smoother your path will be. But when you finally sit upon the throne, your husband and your initial supporters will become the very forces that weaken your control.

On the other hand, if you were to completely eradicate the Seven Kingdoms’ entire noble class and replace them with new figures, your rise to power would be slow and fraught with difficulty, likely impossible to achieve. However, as compensation, should you succeed, your grip over Westeros would be unshakable."

This was a concept that even the original The Prince had never articulated. Aegor had adapted it specifically for the realities of Westeros, and no one was more qualified than he to explain it.

"Remember this principle, for we will return to it later."

Drogon, circling above the small lake, sensed that his mother was not in danger. After a few loops, he and his siblings veered away, departing from the area.

Daenerys, however, paid no attention to them—she was already beginning to anticipate what would come next.

"Good. Now that this concept has been introduced, we can proceed to the main topic." Aegor nodded in satisfaction, pleased with the student’s receptive attitude. "Your Grace seeks to correct the world’s injustices and reshape it into something better. But when it comes to concrete policy—how exactly should that be done?"