Chapter 135

If the story of A Song of Ice and Fire were turned into a role-playing game, Margaery Tyrell would be one of those characters with virtually zero combat ability, yet incredibly high charisma and intelligence. On top of that, she’d have a unique passive trait, cultivated under the tutelage of the Queen of Thorns herself: unwavering willpower, rendering her immune to verbal tricks.

Aegor prided himself on his ability to present facts and reason convincingly, spinning a web of seven parts truth and three parts deception. He rarely failed to persuade because, most of the time, what he proposed was both truthful and harmless to others. However, when it came to haggling, where right and wrong were irrelevant and negotiations revolved around non-tangible commodities, convincing a woman as cunning and intelligent as Margaery Tyrell to part with an additional 4,500 gold dragons was an entirely different challenge.

If persuading Robert Baratheon had a difficulty level of 5, convincing Eddard Stark was a 7, and recruiting Tyrion Lannister was a 9, then getting Margaery to fork over that extra gold was a solid 90. It was an impossible task—not because the "Little Rose" was stingy, but because Aegor, along with the Night’s Watch enterprise, lacked the leverage to warrant such a steep investment from the Tyrells.

Even Aegor himself wouldn’t be convinced by his own arguments in this situation. Attempting to haggle under these circumstances turned the negotiation into a hellish ordeal. Every move he made, full of hope, seemed to hit a soft wall of indifference. He tried to explain the technology’s value being worth more than 500 gold dragons, but Margaery pretended not to understand. He attempted a roundabout strategy, but she effortlessly outmaneuvered him, her ability to deflect and redirect conversations surpassing his own. In terms of verbal sparring and strategic wit, the ten-years-younger Margaery had him thoroughly outclassed.

Negotiating should have been a back-and-forth of small compromises, with each side narrowing the gap. Instead, after a lengthy discussion, they remained at an impasse. Margaery pouted in mock frustration, while Aegor felt his skin crawl with irritation. If not for the promise of money, he’d have stormed out long ago to find somewhere to cool off.

“Master, you promised to duel me!” Arya Stark burst through the door, her cheeks flushed from warming up, a wooden sword gripped tightly in her hand. “Hurry up! It’s almost lunchtime!”

“Just a bit longer!” Aegor gritted his teeth, deciding to play his final card. “Since Lady Margaery refuses to compromise, 500 gold dragons it is. But at that price, you’ll only get the theoretical principles of papermaking in written form. I’ll have Nina compile the documents and send them to you. This partnership ends here.”

“Since you’ve put it that way, let’s do as you suggest.” Margaery’s eyes twinkled with amusement as she watched his feigned exasperation. However, her face quickly shifted to one of feigned alarm and regret. “The technique alone for 500 gold dragons is fair. However, I propose adding 500 for operational management methods and another 500 for personnel guidance and training. Altogether, 1,500 gold dragons. What do you think, my lord?”

Damn it. Aegor realized he’d been played. She’d been waiting for him to make this exact move. Her almost-unconcealed look of provocation made it clear: this entire negotiation wasn’t about saving a mere few hundred or thousand gold dragons for the Tyrells. It was payback for his earlier cold and guarded attitude toward her.

Against such an opponent, the only effective strategies were either placing a blade to her throat or gaining enough power to overwhelm her later. Relying on words was futile.

At least Margaery wasn’t Cersei. She wouldn’t try to kill him, Aegor thought with a long sigh. Summoning his resolve, he made one last attempt: “Add another 500. Not because the technique is worth it, but because the Night’s Watch enterprise is a profit-driven organization. As Chief Quartermaster, my job is to make money for the Watch. We’re constantly expanding and will have more lucrative projects in the future. If this deal earns us a profit, we’ll have opportunities to collaborate again. Does that make sense, Lady Margaery?”

“My lord, your sincerity leaves me speechless. Very well, 2,000 gold dragons it is. The extra 500 will be considered the Reach’s contribution to the defense of the Wall.” With a triumphant smile, Margaery spun his words into her own victory. “I’ll have the money sent over this afternoon. As for the personnel and materials I require, please arrange for them promptly. I’d like to take them with me when I leave King’s Landing.”

Relieved, Aegor felt like he’d escaped a torture session. The final price met his expectations, and while the Tyrell market was out of his reach, selling the technology for quick cash was a satisfactory outcome. With his modern perspective, he was confident he could make the money grow.

“Nina, make a note of this and start preparations.”

“Yes, my lord!”

The negotiation had dragged on so long that the drink Nina had brought them was nearly finished. With the price settled, the remaining details were resolved swiftly. Aegor agreed to form a team of skilled workers for training and preparation within ten days, so they’d be ready to depart with Margaery. The Tyrells would cover their wages, lodging, and bonuses while in the Reach.

Just as Aegor thought the ordeal was over, Margaery found a new target. She turned her curious gaze to Arya, who was seated nearby, clutching her sword and glaring at Aegor, waiting impatiently to resume their training.

Softly, with a probing tone, Margaery asked, “Might this be Arya Stark?”

“Yes.” Arya, having practiced swordsmanship here for three months, was no stranger to the curious stares of Night’s Watch clients. She glanced at Margaery, her expression blank. “Hello.”

“I’m Margaery Tyrell. What a surprise to meet you here, Miss Stark!” Margaery’s cheerful tone ignored Arya’s coldness. “Are you practicing swordsmanship here?”

“Yes...” Arya blinked, used to others reacting with shock when they saw her training. She added, “My father allows it!”

“How wonderful. I’ve always dreamed of learning swordsmanship, but my father would never allow it because I’m a girl,” Margaery replied with exaggerated envy before sighing in frustration. “I’ve often dreamed of dancing under the moonlight in a gown, wielding a sword. But in reality, I’ve barely even held one.”

Though Arya was sharp, she was no match for Margaery’s guile. Thrilled to meet someone who not only didn’t criticize but admired her sword training, Arya immediately found Margaery both beautiful and charming. “You could practice secretly. Your family’s in the Reach, right? You’re in King’s Landing now—they wouldn’t know.”

“But my family’s guards are always watching me.”

“You can come here! My master and I will cover for you. Tell them you’re practicing embroidery with me!” Arya’s eyes gleamed with excitement as she hatched the plan, caring little about Aegor’s opinion. “My master can keep your guards outside while we train in the back courtyard. I’ll teach you!”

“Really?” Margaery turned to Aegor with a pleading look, her expression so sincere it was hard to discern if it was genuine or not. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d be happy to pay a fee for using the space... and for the lessons.”

Arya tugged on Aegor’s sleeve. “Master, you’re the best! I know you’ll agree!”