Chapter 574

"Don't rush—this is only the first step in breaking the stalemate. Next, Lord Bolton, you'll need to guard against the Starks and the other Northern families," Aegor said, glancing toward the lively gathering of Northern lords. Some of them were already casting curious looks in his direction, noting his private conversation with Roose Bolton. "They're displeased and resentful over your decision to pledge loyalty to the queen ahead of them. And the Stark family remains your liege lord in name. If you do nothing, the queen may view you as just another Northern vassal, ordering you to integrate your Dreadfort troops into the Northern host under Robb Stark's command. At that point, with him as commander and you as subordinate, you'd be entirely at his mercy—whether through overt obstacles or covert sabotage. That would be a real disaster."

Aegor sighed deeply, shaking his head with a look of feigned pity. "Ah, Lord Bolton, forgive me for being blunt, but you are in an unprecedentedly precarious position right now. The Starks are unhappy with your actions, the queen holds a poor opinion of the Dreadfort’s forces, and, to make matters worse, some evidence from the poisoning incident that claimed Lord Petyr and Lord Varys's lives seems to point toward House Bolton. Though subsequent investigations cleared your name, proving it was a deliberate frame-up, the suspicion lingers—a thorn planted in Her Grace’s heart. And once that thorn takes root, removing it or easing her doubts becomes a far more troublesome task."

Daenerys was far from foolish, but Roose Bolton didn’t know that. For all his cunning, Roose was no transmigrator. His limited information and restricted interactions with the queen left him at a disadvantage. When Varys had been alive, he had deliberately kept Roose at arm’s length from Daenerys to maintain control. Now, Aegor inherited the eunuch’s strategy, exploiting the gap between Bolton and the queen to sow fear and ensure Bolton followed his directives.

The Boltons had soldiers, provisions, wealth, and land—assets still valuable for the southern campaign. Meanwhile, Aegor was currently the last man in Daenerys's inner circle who could speak directly to her. Both sides were pragmatic, and though there had been tension and underhanded maneuvering between them, neither had openly broken ties. Thus, their exchange was cordial, almost as if they were old friends, the tension of the past conveniently forgotten.

There was no need to apply much pressure. Roose Bolton understood the stakes well enough on his own.

What Roose didn’t know was that the "war council" he’d been told about wasn’t an excuse—it was real. Daenerys, freshly frustrated and humiliated after being lectured by Aegor like a child, had no patience for guests. All Roose saw was his last lifeline, the queen, choosing to ignore him.

"Thank you for your advice, Commander. I’ll begin making preparations immediately..."

Roose had tried everything. First, he attempted to stir Daenerys into burning Winterfell by fabricating rumors, only to have his plot foiled by Aegor. Then, Petyr Baelish framed him for a fabricated crime, tarnishing his reputation. Before he could recover, Varys—the very man who had paved the way for House Bolton to align with the queen—was suddenly dead. One blow after another left him scrambling for survival.

When Roose finally approached Aegor with pleasantries and praise, the seasoned schemer cut straight to the point after a few meaningless exchanges.

"If you wish to turn this crisis into an opportunity," Aegor said with a faint smile, "the solution is simple: volunteer to lead the vanguard. Two thousand men is the perfect number—not too many to be a burden, nor too few to be insignificant. As the vanguard, you’ll have the greatest opportunity to achieve military victories. One battle won on the field will outweigh countless suspicions or misunderstandings. Even if there are casualties, I’ll ensure the queen hears of the Dreadfort's bravery and sacrifice in her name. Would Her Grace then continue to doubt your loyalty over a minor misunderstanding?"

Roose’s face betrayed his unease. He could see the trap clearly—this was no mere offer of advice but a calculated demand. Yet, with no other allies left, he had no choice but to comply. His gambit for power, once promising, now teetered on the brink of disaster. He had no option but to throw in everything he had, lest he lose even the chance to be exploited.

"Commander Aegor, seeing you safe and sound brings me great relief," Roose said with forced politeness as he took a seat across from Aegor.

"Likewise, Lord Bolton," Aegor replied, his expression calm but his mind sharp. He had planned to summon Bolton under the guise of a consultation even if the latter hadn’t come willingly. With a gesture, he invited Roose to speak, his smile both warm and calculating. "Please, tell me what troubles you."

Roose hesitated, but after a moment, he began, his tone carefully measured. "You see, Commander, some of my men caused... trouble in the nearby village during the winter, leading to Her Grace forbidding the Dreadfort troops from leaving camp. Then, with the poisoning incident surfacing shortly afterward, I’ve been unable to meet with the queen. I’ve been left in the dark about her intentions and plans. Commander, as someone close to Her Grace, might you offer some guidance? At least enough so I’m not entirely blind moving forward?"

"Her Grace isn’t truly suspicious of your loyalty, Lord Bolton," Aegor replied, his tone calm and unhurried. "But she is overwhelmed. The coincidental timing of these incidents has frustrated her, leaving her unable to think clearly. That frustration has affected her perception of the Dreadfort negatively. In peacetime, such displeasure could be disastrous. But in times of war, there is room for redemption."

Aegor leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial tone. "The Dreadfort can field two thousand elite troops—a third of the Northern host. Her Grace won’t forget that. Use this to your advantage. When she gathers the lords to discuss the campaign and logistics, be the first to declare your contribution of men and supplies. Outshine the other Northern lords, and you’ll win her favor. Prove your loyalty with actions, and any lingering doubts will naturally fade."

Roose nodded along, but his expression was bitter. He wasn’t naïve—he knew Aegor was using this opportunity to suppress him, to ensure the Dreadfort remained in a weakened position during the campaign. But with his position so precarious, Roose had no room to protest. All he could do was grit his teeth and accept the terms, clinging to the faint hope that his gamble might yet save his house.

"Understood," Roose finally said, his tone betraying his frustration.

Aegor smiled faintly, knowing he had once again ensured Roose Bolton would dance to his tune.