Chapter 119

“Ser Selmy,” Aegor greeted, stepping closer.

“Ser Wester,” the old knight replied, turning to get a better look at the newcomer under the moonlight. Though they weren’t acquainted, Aegor’s reputation as someone loyal to the Night’s Watch and dedicated to its cause had earned him a degree of respect from Barristan. The old knight didn’t ignore the greeting. “Why aren’t you at the wedding?”
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Strictly speaking, addressing Aegor as “Ser” or “Lord” was incorrect. As a sworn brother of the Night’s Watch, he had renounced all titles, lands, and rights, his status reduced to that of a commoner. From a legal standpoint, the Night’s Watch held no greater societal position than peasants, regardless of their internal ranks or responsibilities.

But Aegor no longer felt the urge to correct such formalities. Having spent months away from Castle Black, he had grown accustomed to people addressing him with deference. For individuals like Barristan Selmy or Margaery Tyrell, who rarely interacted with commoners, not being called “Ser” or “Lord” would likely leave them at a loss for how to address him.

Now wielding influence and resources that surpassed most knights and even some lesser lords, Aegor had learned to accept such titles as a matter of course.
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“A farce, that’s all it is. You disapprove of this marriage too, don’t you?” Aegor remarked casually.

“The Stark heir’s choice of bride has nothing to do with me,” Barristan replied, shaking his head. “What I oppose is the way His Grace has handled the matter. Marriage is a family’s most important affair, tied to its future. To make such a decision without consulting the parents and to begin the ceremony so abruptly? It’s reckless.”

“Judging by the grandeur of the celebration, it hardly feels reckless,” Aegor countered. “Who else but the king could gather so many nobles of the Seven Kingdoms at once?”

“Nobles mean nothing if the parents are absent,” Barristan retorted. “If the Hand opposes this union when we return to King’s Landing, what then? Pack up the bride and send her back to the Twins?”

“Lord Stark is too honorable to resort to something so disgraceful,” Aegor mused. “And I doubt the Hand would object. Among non-ducal families, how many rival the Freys in wealth and strength?”

Barristan paused, clearly searching for counterexamples. “The Manderlys of White Harbor in the North. In the Vale… well, after this rebellion, there’s little left to discuss. In the Westerlands, there are plenty of wealthy houses, but most of their strength has been buried by Tywin Lannister. In the Stormlands and Dorne, resources are scarce, so few houses flourish there. The Reach has the Hightowers of Oldtown and the Redwynes of the Arbor—both wealthy and powerful, and far more ancient than the Freys.”

“The Manderlys are fiercely loyal to the Starks,” Aegor pointed out. “Using Robb’s hand to secure that loyalty further would be a waste. As for the Hightowers and Redwynes, their lands are at the far southwest of Westeros, hundreds of leagues from the North. Marrying into such houses would result in an alliance in name only—too far to be of practical use. The Freys, however, occupy the vital crossroads of the Trident, controlling trade and military routes. They’re wealthy, well-armed, and strategically located. By marrying into House Frey, the Starks would gain not only additional troops but also extend their influence southward, bolstering both their own strength and stabilizing the Tullys’ position as Lords Paramount of the Riverlands. It’s a win-win.”

“You make a compelling argument,” Barristan admitted. He gestured to the bench, inviting Aegor to sit beside him. “Care for a drink? It’s the king’s gift, after all.”

“Thank you.” Aegor accepted the jug and took a swig. The wine wasn’t particularly strong—typical of Westerosi brewing standards—but it was enough to quench his thirst. “So the Freys lack a long history. There are plenty of houses in the North with millennia of heritage, but many of them combined couldn’t match the Freys in strength or wealth. And as for the stigma of being ‘upstarts’... well, who’s the biggest upstart in Westeros? The Baratheons, with a mere 300 years of history—half that of the Freys. Yet who dares call His Grace an upstart to his face? Power and wealth trump pedigree. Once the Freys become in-laws to the Starks, they’ll shed their reputation as mere usurpers and rise to prominence as a respected house.”

Though Aegor didn’t name names, Barristan immediately understood the comparison. It was bold of a sworn brother to liken House Baratheon to the Freys, yet there was undeniable logic in Aegor’s words. Chuckling, the old knight shook his head. “Fine, you win this one. But House Stark is still a ducal family. Surely Robb could aim higher—marry the daughter of another duke, perhaps?”

Now Barristan had walked right into Aegor’s trap. This question was one Aegor had considered thoroughly. “Unless His Grace is willing to offer Princess Myrcella’s hand, Robb has two options: Margaery Tyrell or someone from Dorne. But Dorne is unlikely to send their daughters north into the cold. That leaves Margaery—and if you’re so curious, Ser Selmy, why don’t you ask her yourself?”

Barristan coughed awkwardly, clearly unwilling to answer.
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“Thank you for your concern, Chief Quartermaster,” came a soft voice from behind. Aegor turned sharply, startled. “But you needn’t worry about my marriage,” Margaery Tyrell continued with a sweet smile. “It’s far more intriguing how well-informed you are about the Seven Kingdoms’ affairs, despite wearing the black.”

Aegor suppressed his embarrassment, relieved that he hadn’t spoken ill of her moments earlier. “As Chief Quartermaster, it’s my duty to seek aid and provisions from the nobles of Westeros. It’s only natural that I keep myself informed.”

Of course, Aegor’s knowledge didn’t come solely from books or his past life’s media. Much of it was thanks to Tyrion’s guidance and access to detailed records. Even so, he was certain that someone like Margaery, born into a noble house, had access to far more comprehensive information than he ever could.

Margaery gave him a long look before turning her attention to Barristan. “Ser Selmy,” she greeted, dipping into a polite curtsy.

The old knight nodded kindly. Though he usually avoided interactions with non-crownland nobles to maintain neutrality, his earlier conversation with Aegor had sparked his interest. “Forgive my curiosity, my lady, but do you have anyone in mind for a husband?”
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