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Chapter 475

The group that had traveled hundreds of miles from the North to New Crown Town, ostensibly merchants but in reality spies, vanished quietly from the public eye. Amidst the chaos of the Gift—throngs of people coming and going, unreliable rumors flying about, a simmering anger brewing among the populace, and the looming start of an epic expedition—no one cared about the fate or whereabouts of these outsiders.

Meanwhile, Jon Snow, the famed commander of Castle Black, tasked by Aegor with gathering supplies from Winterfell after the Battle of the Long Lake, arrived in New Crown Town. Despite leaving ahead of the spies, his progress had been delayed by the heavy load of nitre and dragonglass weaponry his convoy carried. Fortunately, the journey was smooth, and he completed his mission, reaching what was about to become the eye of the storm.

After handing over the supplies to the castle’s quartermasters, Jon headed straight for the inner keep. Ignoring the guards’ warnings that “the Commander is very busy,” he insisted on an immediate meeting with Aegor.

Truth be told, Aegor typically had no patience for meetings with men like Jon—“proper Night’s Watchmen” who clung to their oaths and saw no purpose beyond guarding the Wall. These self-righteous types, far from contributing to his grand designs, had every reason to despise, betray, or even assassinate him. Engaging with them brought no tangible benefit, only risk and wasted time.

But Jon was different. Aegor couldn’t refuse him for three reasons:

First, Jon hadn’t abandoned his post at the Wall; he had gone south on Aegor’s orders and completed his mission admirably. Second, their personal relationship was close enough that, while Jon might try to persuade him to abandon his plans, he was unlikely to harm him. Third, and most importantly, Jon had participated in part of the Northern lords’ meeting at Winterfell—the same meeting described by the informants sent by Roose Bolton. Aegor needed Jon’s firsthand account to piece together what had really happened.

Soon enough, Jon Snow, having surrendered his weapon as required, was escorted into the Commander’s office and granted an audience.



After a lengthy exchange of questions and answers, Aegor had a general understanding of the meeting from Jon’s account. He began probing specific details to ensure there were no gaps or miscommunications.

“So, Robb invited you to the meeting hoping you’d act as their spokesperson, providing insight into the Night’s Watch and perhaps even leading efforts against me. Is that correct?” Aegor asked.

“Correct. But I made my position clear and managed to convince Robb otherwise…” Jon began, only for Aegor to cut him off with a dismissive wave, uninterested in subjective embellishments.

“And midway through the meeting, Roose Bolton used the excuse of you being an outsider to have you removed. Is that right?”

“It wasn’t Roose Bolton who forced me out. I decided to leave on my own,” Jon replied, shaking his head. “I am a sworn brother of the Night’s Watch. I stated my views, and it was only natural for the Northern lords to discuss the matter and make their decision without me present. Besides, a guard I’ve known since childhood informed me of the outcome afterward: the Northern lords agreed to your terms and chose neutrality.”

Ah, the naivety of youth.

“They said you were an outsider, and you actually agreed with them?” Aegor thought, suppressing the urge to laugh. Roose Bolton had manipulated Jon into leaving by making him feel unwelcome, and Jon not only fell for it but also defended Bolton’s actions as “reasonable.”

Jon had matured greatly during his years in the Night’s Watch, but there were some lessons he seemed incapable of learning. Aegor, well-acquainted with Jon’s unyielding honesty, felt confident that his account was truthful. Jon had brought back the same message of Northern neutrality that Bolton’s informants had conveyed. However, many other details in their stories didn’t align.

For one, Robb Stark couldn’t have known that Jon would defend Aegor’s policies when he invited him to the meeting. This undermined the claim that Robb staged a performance for Jon’s benefit.

More importantly, while Roose Bolton had pushed Jon out of the meeting under the guise of him being an “outsider,” he later sent informants to betray the North’s plans to Aegor. This suggested a far more devious game. It was entirely plausible that Bolton had helped Robb craft the strategy against Aegor while simultaneously undermining it by leaking the plans. Aegor suspected Bolton’s true aim was to instigate a war between the Gift and the North, positioning himself to profit no matter the outcome.

Such ruthless, double-dealing tactics were classic Roose Bolton—loyal until he wasn’t, and when he did strike, it was to ensure maximum impact.

If Bolton had approached Aegor openly, seeking to secure a place in Daenerys’s regime, Aegor might have been willing to negotiate. But instead, Bolton had committed two unforgivable sins:

First, he had targeted Aegor’s friends. Though Aegor was about to turn against House Stark, he harbored no desire to harm them beyond what was necessary. They were enemies by fate, not hatred.

Second, Bolton had tried to manipulate Aegor, treating him as a pawn in his schemes. Aegor prided himself on his intellect and control over the Gift, and Bolton’s attempt to use his achievements as leverage was an insult greater than any betrayal.

Either offense would have been enough to provoke Aegor’s wrath, but together, they ignited a murderous fury.

For a brief moment, rage overwhelmed him, but he forced himself to exhale slowly and calm his mind. Once his emotions were under control, he smiled at Jon. “Alright. I’ve learned enough about the meeting in Winterfell. Let’s not dwell on this mess any longer. You’ve done excellent work, gathering so much dragonglass and nitre in such a short time and ensuring it reached the Gift safely. Rest here in New Crown Town for a day before returning to Castle Black to resume your duties.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Aegor added, as if it were an afterthought. “In the upcoming expedition Beyond the Wall, I’d like you to lead Castle Black’s contingent as the vanguard for the central column. If there are no objections, begin preparing once you’re back.”

This “vanguard role” was, of course, a ruse. The true purpose was to temporarily send the more capable and potentially rebellious Night’s Watchmen Beyond the Wall, ensuring the Gift’s stability during the delicate transition from Aegor’s departure to the full-scale southern campaign. Assigning the highest-ranking officers as leaders made the plan appear more legitimate.

Though prepared for pushback, Aegor was surprised by Jon’s reaction—or lack thereof. Instead of questioning the decision, Jon merely murmured an acknowledgment, his face clouded with concern. It was clear he had something on his mind.

“Is there a problem?” Aegor asked gently, though his hand unconsciously drifted toward the hilt of the sword hidden beneath his desk. Alone with Jon and unarmed, Aegor couldn’t entirely suppress his wariness.

Jon hesitated, then shook his head as if dispelling doubt. “No… Actually, yes.”

Taking a deep breath, Jon confessed, “My lord, you know the story. I’ve always believed I was my father, Eddard Stark’s, bastard—born of some nameless southern woman during the Rebellion, a product of desire and sin. Everyone, including myself, has believed this for years. But recently… someone I deeply respect told me that this isn’t true.”

The words were vague, lacking any concrete detail, yet Aegor’s pupils immediately dilated in recognition. He cursed inwardly.

Oh, for fuck’s sake…


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