Chapter 566

The guards stationed outside the door watched as the Starks exited one by one. A quick glance into the room showed no lingering figures—what they didn’t see, however, was Myrcella, small and slender, standing just inside the door, momentarily hidden behind the half-open panel. Assuming that all visitors had left, and adhering to the principle of "keeping the precious warmth inside during these freezing days," one of the guards instinctively grabbed the handle and efficiently shut the door behind them.

Even if, by some miraculous coincidence, Aegor were to awaken in these few brief moments and be pleased to see her waiting by his side… such an act would be far too blatant, too transparent in its intentions.

"You don’t have to say everything you think! Do you have any idea how reckless that was?"

As the matron of the family, Catelyn led the way, forcing her son’s wife and the younger Starks to follow suit. The moment they left Aegor’s bedside, the entire room seemed to exhale in relief. Qyburn, ever the gentleman, stepped ahead to hold the door open for Lady Stark. Just as she crossed the threshold, Sansa—who had been left flustered by her younger brother’s blunt remark—finally recovered her wits. Embarrassed and annoyed, she reached over and gave Rickon a light jab, reprimanding him in a hushed voice.

Qyburn, fearing that Lady Stark might stumble and drop the infant she was holding, quickly stepped forward to steady her, guiding Roslin Stark safely through the doorway.

"Thank you, Maester Qyburn."

He considered dismissing the girl’s observation outright—claiming it was just her imagination—but then a better idea occurred to him.

(Perhaps… I shouldn’t leave just yet? At the very least, I could remain here until the night watchman assigned to care for Aegor returns, ensuring a seamless transition so the Lord Commander is never left unattended. In fact, if fate is kind, and he happens to wake during this brief window with me at his side, he would surely appreciate my presence. If that happens… when I ask for his help in the future, the chances of him agreeing would be much greater, wouldn’t they?)

"I was right! He can’t hear me, so what does it matter?"

"Will you just stop already?" Arya, already irritated by the entire ordeal, lost her patience when Sansa’s push knocked into her. Annoyed, she raised a hand and smacked Rickon over the head.

The minor scuffle between siblings drew everyone's attention. No one noticed that Rickon’s initial push had created a ripple effect—Sansa, stumbling, collided into Roslin, causing the latter to halt abruptly. In turn, Arya, forced to stop short, accidentally jostled the last person in line—Myrcella.

In the ensuing chain reaction, the former princess found herself pushed aside, slipping into the narrow space between the wall and the door, landing in an awkward blind spot.

At that moment, she had two options. She could simply open the door, apologize to the guards outside, and quickly catch up with the Starks. Her hand was already reaching for the handle when, at the last second, an impulse made her withdraw it.

"Careful!"

It was meant as a quiet word of caution, spoken too softly for even Qyburn to hear. Unfortunately, the warning fell on the ears of a child who refused to listen.

Rickon, still resentful over the death of his direwolf Shaggydog and irritated at being dragged around by his mother, had reached his limit. Sansa’s slight shove was the final straw. Frustrated, he exploded, shoving her back without hesitation.

What happened next unfolded in mere seconds.

Sansa, caught off guard, stumbled backward, crashing into Roslin. Roslin, unbalanced, staggered but managed to keep hold of baby Lyanna—thanks only to Arya, who instinctively braced her from behind. However, Arya’s abrupt stop meant that she, too, was thrown off balance, pressing into Myrcella.

With a soft gasp, Myrcella was squeezed out of the moving line, shoved to the side like a fallen chess piece, trapped behind the door.

For a brief moment, she stood frozen. She could have called out, could have opened the door and rejoined the others. But the weight of the moment—the implications of lingering in Aegor’s room alone—gave her pause.

The Starks had momentarily forgotten about her, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t notice her absence once they returned to the main keep. If they realized she had stayed behind, what conclusions would they draw? Sneaking into Aegor’s room alone—what would they think of that? At best, they’d assume she was trying to curry favor with him. At worst, they might suspect some ulterior motive, perhaps even that she had been sent by Catelyn with ill intent.

And even if she genuinely meant no harm, how would Aegor’s own people see it? The night watchman returning from his break, finding her lurking in the room, might immediately assume the worst.

A light thud echoed as the door shut completely.

Myrcella, who had taken a step forward to leave, found herself suddenly locked inside.

For a moment, she stood dumbfounded, staring at the closed door. The realization dawned slowly, absurdly. Her small head was filled with nothing but a string of question marks.

Then, with an exasperated chuckle, she sighed. Of course. Just my luck.

She had already been standing here, lost in thought, for too long. If she hesitated any further, the guards outside might find it strange when she eventually stepped out alone. Unwilling to waste another second, she reached for the handle.

A flicker of sourness crossed her face, mingled with the faintest trace of frustration. It had been a simple accident. No one had meant to leave her behind. Arya hadn’t deliberately shoved her. The guards hadn’t carelessly slammed the door out of spite. No, the problem lay elsewhere.

She wasn’t a Stark. That was the real reason she had been so easily forgotten.

Being slight, delicate, and quiet didn’t help either. She simply didn’t have a presence that demanded attention.

Qyburn quickly nodded. "That is a wise decision. If Lord Aegor wakes, we will notify you immediately."

Lying on the bed, Aegor, caught off guard, forced himself to still his mind and hold his breath to prevent his eyes from shifting again.

Meanwhile, the Starks, particularly Catelyn, grew visibly uneasy. Their expressions tightened, each of them anxious that Aegor had overheard Rickon’s reckless outburst. If he held onto that grievance, if he sought retribution, what would become of the boy?

Qyburn, ever the strategist, worked quickly to dispel any suspicions.

And the night watch guards outside? They were so careless they hadn't even bothered to count how many people had entered and left the room.

But in that moment, from the direction of the sickbed, a very distinct sigh broke the silence.

…

Catelyn caught the underlying message immediately. She was also terrified that her youngest son might blurt out something even more foolish. Eager to remove them from the situation, she seized the opportunity and spoke up.

"In that case, we had best not disturb him further," she said quickly. "We will return when the Lord Commander has fully recovered."

Her words sent a jolt through the room. Nearly a dozen pairs of eyes snapped to Aegor, searching for any sign of movement, for any proof that Myrcella’s claim had been true.

"Thud."

Rickon, despite his young age, had a sturdy frame from years of play-fighting with his direwolf. Sansa, unprepared for the force of his shove, stumbled back—colliding into Roslin, who instinctively stepped backward as well. Fortunately, Arya was behind her, breaking the fall before she could trip entirely.

Still, it was enough of a jolt to shake the room.

The former princess had eyes sharper than anyone suspected. Afraid that she might notice something else, Qyburn wasted no time smoothing over the situation.

"The movement of his eyes suggests he is dreaming," he explained with expert confidence. "That is a good sign—it means the poison has not caused irreparable damage to his brain. If we were to apply external stimuli now, we might even be able to wake him immediately. However, for the sake of his full recovery, I would advise against it. Lord Aegor should be allowed to wake naturally, to avoid any lingering aftereffects."

It was a flawless lie—laced with just enough truth to be irrefutable.

Catelyn, eager to retre