The Free Folk consider the Gift and the North to be the South, while Dorne sees the Stormlands and King's Landing as too far North. Is that not a true reflection of cultural and cognitive diversity?
Aegor laughed heartily and quickly turned around. "Of course. Please allow Blackwall Keep to host you."
Daenerys needed the Dornish army's support, while Princess Arianne hoped Daenerys and Aegor would back her claim to inheritance. Both parties had their own agendas and hidden intentions. Amid an atmosphere of cordiality and harmony, the Unsullied and the Lord Commander's personal guard escorted them as they made their way to Blackwall Keep.
To avoid an awkward silence, they had to converse, even if there was little to say.
Aegor first conveyed Daenerys's regrets regarding Prince Quentyn's unexpected death in Meereen, then feigned concern for Prince Doran's recent health. Only after that did he briefly introduce some information about the Industrial Park unrelated to military deployments, speaking of how production had thrived here before the war reached this region.
As for the Princess, she formally introduced her close female companion to the Lord Commander, another tall and striking woman with blonde hair and blue eyes, one of Oberyn Martell's bastard daughters — Tyene Sand, one of the infamous Sand Snakes.
The two Dornish women, one curvy and well-proportioned, the other tall and slender, both appeared unusually at ease and talkative. They chatted about the hardships and dangers of traveling North from Dorne, crossing war zones and wilderness, and then asked curiously whether the Gift army had faced difficulties heading South, why the North supported Daenerys, and how fierce the Night's Watch battles against the White Walkers had been... One spoke after the other, their mouths never stopping. The short few hundred meters from the southern gate of the camp to Blackwall Keep didn't seem long enough to contain all their small talk. By the time they entered the castle and were seated in the great hall at the reception table, they already seemed as familiar as friends who had known each other for years.
At least on the surface.
"Ahem." Aegor settled into his chair, adjusted his posture, and gestured for everyone except Melisandre and Myrcella to leave before cutting off the off-topic chatter. "Ladies, I'm more than happy to satisfy your curiosity, but there will be plenty of time for stories when we dine together later. Before that, I suggest we handle the main business first."
"Hmm, yes, we should hurry," Tyene Sand lifted her chin slightly, revealing a stretch of her pale neck, and nodded with some arrogance. "My father is currently drinking with the Tyrells at the large camp in the Reach. If we don't move quickly and they reach an agreement first, this trip will be for nothing."
"What's the rush?" Princess Arianne shot her companion a reproachful look, then turned to Aegor with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, she's just impatient... As long as Daenerys is sincere about forming an alliance with Dorne, even if something's already agreed upon, there's still room for discussion."
Hmm?
A threat?
Or were they just playing a game?
Aegor's heart stirred slightly. He glanced at Tyene Sand, then at the Princess, and quickly understood.
Arianne hadn't brought a bastard cousin to meddle in this high-level political negotiation due to poor judgment, but because she wanted to extract the greatest benefits while maintaining goodwill with Aegor, whom she hoped would support her in the future contest for Dorne's rule. To avoid personally speaking unpleasant truths, she simply brought a sister along to play the bad cop.
Though the two women were vastly different in appearance, the olive-skinned one played the "white face," while the fair-skinned one took on the "black face"... It was quite the performance.
Compared to the tricks of Petyr Baelish and Varys, these minor ploys were as transparent as air in the midday sun. Aegor saw through them immediately. But seeing through them didn't mean he had to point it out. These two were not like Margaery, whom he intentionally wanted to provoke. Aegor was perfectly happy to let them think they had the upper hand and that their scheme had succeeded.
"Is that so? Then we should seize the time. No need to waste words. I'll lay my cards on the table to save the Princess's time and interest." He nodded in agreement, pretending to be rushed. He beckoned Myrcella to bring over the prepared map and spread it out on the table.
"Before we discuss the specific terms, I must first reveal a secret to my two esteemed guests," Aegor said, adopting a mysterious expression and tone. "Daenerys's goal this time isn't simply to take King's Landing, reclaim the Iron Throne, and have all Seven Kingdoms acknowledge her rule. She also intends to eliminate the long-standing risk that 'the Reach is too large and wealthy, and the ruling family too easily becomes ambitious and uncontrollable.' The Targaryen Dynasty's previous balancing strategies have already proven insufficient, so Her Grace has resolved to resolve the issue at its root."
He pointed at King's Landing, then traced his finger southwest along the Rose Road, drawing a long imaginary line across the map, only stopping at Oldtown. "Her Grace will retrace Aegon the Conqueror's path, advancing west from the Crownlands through the entire Riverlands, dismantling and dividing this most fertile and populous region of the Seven Kingdoms into smaller noble territories and administrative districts. Like removing firewood from a fire, this will eliminate the risk from the source. This grand feat cannot be accomplished by Daenerys's Unsullied and Gift army alone. Even with dragons, it is not enough. External support is needed — allies capable of advancing alongside her army and working in coordination."
Seeing the astonished expressions on the two Dornish women's faces, Aegor knew his dramatic revelation had landed. He smiled and changed the subject. "To earn Dorne's support for this massive campaign, Daenerys has prepared three major rewards for her loyal allies."
"The first, is spoils of war." He gestured to the southern edge of the map and slowly traced along the Reach's border. "Historically, the Red Mountains have served as the border between Dorne and the Reach — the fertile lands to the north belong to the Reach, while the desert lands to the south belong to you. This has long caused problems for Dorne's food supply and made it vulnerable during times of conflict. This warped geography should've been corrected long ago."
"Princess Arianne, please look here..."
He tapped three times in succession on the two main routes from Dorne into the Reach and on a nearby section of coastline — the Boneway, the Prince's Pass, and the western harbor. "Dorne has three routes to the outside world. I believe — the southern rainforest peninsula of the Stormlands opposite the Boneway, the land north of Prince's Pass across the so-called 'Dornish Marches,' and the small plains on the southern bank of the Mander where Oldtown lies — all of these can be fully granted to Dorne. That way, House Martell will hold three new tracts of good land, neither too big nor too small, including a fertile granary of their own. No more worries about starving your people."
Princess Arianne and Tyene Sand did not respond, not because they couldn't, but because they were completely stunned.
Such an astonishing reward was only the first of three?
Aegor withdrew his slightly numbed fingers from the map, satisfied with their dumbfounded expressions.
That's right, he had put the most shocking benefit first. In truth, he was very confident that this single clause alone would be enough to draw Dorne in. The Reach could exhaust their minds and still never match this offer. In a society where land was still the primary means of production, no benefit was more practical than territory, and the Tyrells would never give theirs away.
"The second, is political status." He continued firmly. "The Reach has openly declared support for Aegon, whose true identity is suspect and who is utterly unqualified to claim the Iron Throne. By committing such treason, the title of Warden of the South should also be reassigned. So long as Dorne supports Daenerys in quelling this rebellion, the title of Warden of the South and a seat on the Queen's Small Council — either one is yours to choose."
A seat on the Small Council was a valuable political prize, but it wasn't hereditary. The Warden title, on the other hand, could be passed down.
Frankly, Aegor hoped House Martell would choose the latter. The Tyrells' Warden title would certainly be stripped, and whether it was reissued or abolished afterward didn't matter. If the Martells wanted a seat on the Small Council, however, he'd be forced to figure out what position to offer or invent one from scratch. He'd also have to endure their constant nagging during court.
"Of course, Warden of the South—" Tyene Sand began to blurt out, but quickly stopped when Princess Arianne pinched her thigh under the table, realizing she wasn't the one to decide.
Aegor witnessed this and chuckled inwardly. These two Dornish women might be skilled with blades and poisons, but when it came to politics?
Too naive.
"The third, is justice." His tone grew resolute. "The bloody massacre that occurred in the Red Keep at the end of Robert's Rebellion is well known. Though the Lannisters claim it was carried out by Ser Gregor Clegane and Ser Amory Lorch acting on their own, would low-ranking knights dare to commit such atrocities against a princess without someone's implicit approval? Everyone knows whose head bears the blood debt for Elia Martell. As long as Dorne supports Daenerys, Her Grace is willing to pressure the Westerlands in the name of the Iron Throne, forcing Tywin Lannister to abdicate, take the black, and exile himself, never again to meddle in the affairs of the realm."
The terms Aegor had agreed upon with Tyrion outside Golden Tooth were still a secret between them, which gave him space to pull this trick — borrowing flowers to offer to the Buddha.
Using the inevitable departure of old Tywin as a bargaining chip and favor for others, killing two birds with one stone, and extracting value from every possible angle — this was how a proper politician should act.
"Pressure? Hmph." Tyene Sand had just made a misstep earlier, but now she played the black face role well, voicing Princess Arianne's concern. "That old man Tywin was never one to yield. If he refuses, what then?"
"I swear by the honor of the Night's Watch. Between taking the black and losing his head, he will have no third option."
This time, Aegor wasn't exaggerating. He truly had no desire to go to war with Tyrion's family, but if it came to that, personal sentiment could never override the bigger picture.
"Alright. I've presented the three major rewards with full sincerity and without reservation. I won't accept haggling. If you find them acceptable, we can go over the details. Or, if you prefer, we can go back to talking about fighting the White Walkers or even have you stay as guests tonight. But if you think this plan is absurd and doomed to fail, I'll understand as well and will have someone escort you to the docks to return to your camp on the south bank. Princess Arianne, the decision is yours."
(To be continued.)
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