Chapter 132

"Being pretty isn’t always a good thing for a common girl," Tyrion had remarked just over an hour ago. Was his tongue blessed with foresight? How else could his words come true so quickly? Was he a natural jinx, or had he heard something beforehand and deliberately used their earlier conversation to warn Aegor?

The trope of “abducting a maiden” isn’t just a fabricated drama device to depict villains. Throughout history, men of power and status have used coercion or outright force to claim mating rights over women. As society developed more robust legal systems, these actions became more concealed, the methods more refined, but the essence remained unchanged.

But why emphasize “common girls”? The answer is simple: people dare to seize commoners.

This ties back to a fundamental aspect of feudal society—the “chain of protection.” Feudal lords and vassals had mutual obligations to protect one another. Most of the time, protection flowed from the top down, extending layer by layer until even the lowest-ranking nobles were covered.

Take the Seven Kingdoms as an example. If Robert Baratheon, drunk as usual, forced himself on the daughter of a knight serving some western lord, what would happen?

The knight would lodge a complaint with his liege lord. That lord would appeal to the Warden of the West. And Tywin Lannister, renowned for his iron-fisted rule, would demand an explanation from Robert himself.

…

It wouldn’t matter whether the knight was favored, his lord was wealthy, or Tywin was particularly ruthless. As long as the victim was a noblewoman, the offense would escalate from “Robert laid with a girl” to “the king violated a noble.”

If the girl’s parents or guardians pursued the matter and Robert wasn’t delusional enough to imitate the Mad King, he’d have to take responsibility. Beyond tarnishing his reputation, he’d face tangible consequences—supporting her with a dowry if she couldn’t be married off, recognizing any resulting bastard, and ensuring the child was raised with dignity, at least above a commoner’s station.

Such were the rules of the game among nobles. Even Robert, for all his licentiousness, rarely dared touch the daughters of even the lowest lords. After all, he’d learned his lesson when, at Stannis’ wedding, he bedded Delena Florent, the maid of honor. Not only did it infuriate the groom, but it also resulted in the birth of Edric Storm—Robert’s only acknowledged bastard.

In theory, commoners were also under the chain of protection, but they were treated as their lord’s property, not as individuals. Violating a noble’s “property” wasn’t as severe as violating the noble directly. In most cases, compensation was enough to settle the matter.

If even kings were bound by these rules, what of Janos Slynt, a man yet to achieve noble status? Though he wielded power as Commander of the City Watch, he was still untitled. He wouldn’t dare touch a girl of rank. But common girls? They were fair game. Pretty ones were rare, and when such opportunities arose, men like Slynt wouldn’t let them slip by.

…

Aegor had worked hard to keep his lust in check, but he’d forgotten—he wasn’t the only man in the world!

As someone accustomed to dealing with powerful figures, Aegor didn’t feel intimidated by the middle-aged man before him. But as a businessman with nearly all his ventures tied to King’s Landing, he was at a disadvantage when facing the local enforcer. Being firm was easier said than done.

Still, offending people unnecessarily was best avoided. Even though he found Slynt repulsive, Aegor quickly adopted a polite demeanor. “Thank you for your concern, Commander Slynt. The Night’s Watch office has indeed been busy lately, and that’s not an excuse. I’ll personally host you for a meal in a few days to make amends.”

“No need. I don’t care if your little office is busy or not. And I’ve no interest in dining with a black-cloaked Night’s Watchman,” Slynt retorted, his smirk widening. “Just tell me—are you giving your subordinate a break or not?” He cast a smug glance behind Aegor. “Miss Nina, now that your boss is here, you can take some time off, can’t you?”

The commotion had drawn the others in the courtyard. Jaqen, Neil, and finally Nina herself emerged. As the subject of the conversation, she had no choice but to step forward, though she instinctively shrank behind Aegor, avoiding Slynt’s gaze.

“…Milord?” she whispered, trying to suppress her unease.

She seemed to be asking for permission to take leave, but in truth, she was gauging Aegor’s stance.

From their first meeting at the papermill, Nina had thought this Night’s Watch logistics officer was not only handsome but also capable. Yet that impression was vague at best. She had no idea if Aegor could truly protect her in this situation.

If he said, I’ll allow you to accompany Commander Slynt for dinner, it would mean the Night’s Watch couldn’t afford to offend Slynt. She’d have to endure the humiliation, go to dinner with the greasy old man, and hope to avoid being “devoured” outright. But if Aegor responded differently, there might still be hope.

Only in moments like this did she realize how powerless and vulnerable she was as a commoner. Her wit and the etiquette Tyrion had taught her were useless. Her fate rested entirely in the hands of the men before her.

…

Aegor was thoroughly annoyed. In terms of influence and connections within King’s Landing, he couldn’t compare to Slynt. But the city was full of powerful figures, and none had ever acted as brazenly as this self-important upstart. Those who rose from nothing often developed an inflated sense of entitlement, and Slynt was no exception.

Nina had endured enough. It was time to draw the line.

“Nina, you’ve been working hard lately. If you agree to Commander Slynt’s invitation, I’ll give you tomorrow off to rest,” Aegor said, half-turning to her. In the dim evening light, he subtly winked his right eye.

Hopefully, she understood.

“Apologies, Commander Slynt,” Nina replied, drawing strength from Aegor’s signal. “But the office truly can’t spare me right now. I must decline your kind offer.”

Slynt hadn’t expected such a blunt refusal and guessed it was Aegor’s doing. His face darkened as he asked, “Are you sure about this?”

“You’re quite the figure, Commander, but don’t you understand basic decency?” Neil interjected bluntly. “My sister’s turned you down several times. You’re a married man with children—why can’t you leave her alone?”

“Neil, mind your manners!” Aegor scolded, though inwardly he was grateful for Neil’s timing.

With an exaggerated sigh, he turned to Slynt. “Commander, you see? Since Nina is unwilling, I can’t, as her superior, force her to accompany you. Surely you understand.”

The air grew tense. Jaqen stood silently beside Neil, his expression unreadable. Even Slynt’s gold cloaks seemed unsure how to proceed.

But Slynt surprised Aegor. Instead of lashing out, he suddenly smiled thinly. “Well then, perhaps another time. Apologies for the disturbance. We’ll be on our way.”

With that, he turned and strode toward the gate, his men following closely. In moments, they were gone.

…

Their abrupt departure left Aegor uneasy. Something wasn’t right. “Nina, when did this start? Does Tyrion know?”

“It’s only been a few days,” Nina replied nervously. “I haven’t had time to tell Lord Tyrion. It started when I wore lipstick for the first time and went out for lunch. Commander Slynt stopped me, complimented the color, and asked what it was. I answered politely, but then he suddenly invited me to dinner. I refused, but he wouldn’t let it go. This is the third time.”

Slynt’s persistence had clearly made her wary.

“Enough,” Aegor said, his voice firm. “You’re not to go out alone anymore. Stay close to others, especially you, Nina. I’ll discuss this with Tyrion and find a way to handle it. For now, let’s eat and rest.”

And with that, the matter was tabled—for now.