Chapter 590

This is bad!

Margaery’s heart sank, realizing she had made a grave mistake.

Why did she have to bring up Aegon’s proposal?

She wanted to slap herself. She had already sensed things were going awry and knew she should have left earlier. But instead of retreating, she had let her pride get the better of her, blurting out something utterly foolish just before leaving.

Even earlier, mentioning that the Reach could muster over a hundred thousand troops had been a mistake—a rash, impulsive move during a pointless contest of egos. The smarter play would have been to gracefully excuse herself then and there.

Now, Aegor clearly had a grasp of her intentions, and worse, he now knew of Aegon’s proposal. If he decided to hold her hostage on a whim, it would be a disaster.

The Tyrell alliance with Aegon Targaryen was inevitable, critical even. If anything happened to her, her father might panic, but her grandmother, the cunning and unflappable Queen of Thorns, would likely send another Tyrell cousin to fulfill the marriage arrangement without batting an eye.

And where would that leave her? Stripped of the queenly title she had come to claim, humiliated, and a pawn handed to Aegor as leverage—a disgrace to herself and a burden on her family.

Turning back, Margaery forced a quick transformation. The imperious future queen disappeared, replaced by a vulnerable, helpless girl of the Reach.

“No, Lord Commander, I wouldn’t dare,” she said meekly, her tone softening as her posture hunched slightly. “I... I’m just feeling unwell and thought to retire early.”

Aegor sneered, seeing through the transparent excuse.

“I invited you to dinner out of courtesy and responsibility, and I’ve conveyed Her Grace’s expectations for the Reach in good faith. Yet you call that insincere?” His voice was sharp, each word slicing deeper. “Now I’m curious—what exactly does House Tyrell consider sincere?”

This wasn’t negotiation anymore. This was humiliation.

What had she done to deserve this?

Margaery couldn’t understand.

Could Aegor still hold a grudge over their earlier negotiations on paper and printing rights? Back then, she had ruthlessly undercut him, knowing full well he was strapped for funds, but it wasn’t about saving a few hundred gold dragons. It had been petty revenge for his indifference to her charms—for his refusal to be captivated by her like every other man.

Later, feeling guilty, she had made amends, doubling her contributions in subsequent deals with Nina to ensure the Night’s Watch industries profited well. Surely Aegor must have noticed?

Frustration, confusion, anger, and fear churned inside her, but Margaery pushed it all down. Now was not the time to lose control. She couldn’t risk escalating things further. Her priority was to appease Aegor, defuse the tension, and escape to the safety of the Reach’s camp.

“Lord Commander,” she began, her voice trembling with feigned sincerity, “you misunderstand. The Queen’s requests are perfectly reasonable, and I will faithfully convey her expectations to my father and the other lords. I’ll do my best to persuade them to comply.”

She stepped back toward the table, carefully picking up the list of Reach families she had flung aside in her earlier outburst. With exaggerated care, she dusted off the nonexistent dirt on its surface and cradled it in her hands as though it were a sacred relic.

“To ensure I don’t forget anything important, might I take this list back with me?”

Aegor nearly laughed at her desperate display but managed to keep his expression neutral.

“Leave it,” he said coolly. “I trust your intellect and memory are more than sufficient to deliver the message without it. If you’re feeling unwell, I won’t keep you. Safe travels.”

Relief flooded Margaery’s face as she hastily set the list down and practically fled the room.

Her retreating figure looked pitiful, but if anyone could see her face as she walked away, they would notice her lips pressed into a thin, tight line and her jaw clenched with fury.

She had come here believing that even if Aegor became an enemy, he was a man worth recruiting after the war was won. Someone with his skills would strengthen the Tyrells’ position.

But now?

Her brisk steps faltered briefly as she steeled herself. One day, she vowed silently, she would return this humiliation tenfold.
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“Put the list away,” Aegor ordered once she was gone. “And make copies when you have the time. We’ll need backups.”

“Understood,” Myrcella replied, efficiently gathering the papers. But she couldn’t help hesitating, glancing up at him with a hint of doubt.

“Lord Commander, are you sure about letting her leave? When Aegon declares himself king, she’ll undoubtedly be his queen. She could’ve been a valuable hostage.”

It was a reasonable question, but Aegor already had his answer.

The Reach’s alliance with Aegon was inevitable, but holding Margaery hostage would give the Tyrells a moral advantage.

Aegor wasn’t just fighting for Daenerys’s crown—he was managing alliances with the North and the Riverlands, and trying to sway the Westerlands, the Vale, and Dorne. These powers might tolerate a war against the Tyrells but would never condone him instigating unnecessary conflict.

The lords of Westeros, despite their rivalries, were united in their disdain for excessive ambition. If Aegor acted without justification, they would see it as a threat to their own power and band together to stop him.

In this world, where the common people still cared more about their lords than their queen, losing the nobles’ support could be catastrophic.

“Taking her hostage would give them the moral high ground,” Aegor explained, shaking his head. “The Tyrells aren’t the only family in the Reach. They’d send another cousin to marry Aegon and use Margaery’s capture to rally the rest of Westeros against us.

“No, better to let her leave angry and humiliated. She’ll carry that resentment back to her camp and fire the first shot herself. Then, when we retaliate, no one will question that we acted out of necessity.”

“Understood,” Myrcella said, bowing slightly.

“Good. Now schedule a meeting with the Dornish envoys. We can’t sway the Reach, but I will secure House Martell’s support.”
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