"What did Daenerys say?"
The moment Sansa ended the long-distance communication and left the bedroom, Illyrio and the others, who had been anxiously pacing the sitting room, immediately gathered around her.
"She said that, in theory, Melisandre could not have harmed Balerion. She wants us to find out exactly what happened in Stannis's camp that day," Sansa said softly.
"Ah, at a time like this, what use is there in investigating all that? When is she coming over?" Illyrio stamped his foot.
"She doesn't have time—"
"No time?" Before the queen could finish, Illyrio shouted loudly.
"How can she have no time? At such a critical moment, even if the sky were falling, she should rush back to the North and rescue His Majesty the King! Is there anything in the world more important than this?"
Sansa frowned, deeply displeased with the fat man's shouting. You are a court marquis without a real fief, what right do you have to shout in front of the queen?
Moreover, there were many lords from the Vale, the Riverlands, and the Stormlands present. Leaving aside the proprieties between ruler and subject, if you howl like this, as if you had lost a son, would that not shatter the morale of this barely glued-together coalition? Might it not even give rise to rebellious thoughts?
On the surface, the True Dragon Alliance rested entirely on Aegon alone, but its true foundation was the Dragon Queen, whose power overshadowed the age.
No matter how much Aegon emphasized that the family had two branches and that his actions did not represent Aunt Dany, the reason he was able to gain the allegiance of Uncle Finger, Prince Daolang, the Vale nobility, and parts of the Reach and Crownlands was mainly because the Dragon Queen alone was opposing the whole world, and she did not yet seem to have lost.
The first rule of the game of thrones: do not stand on the side of the loser.
The shameless nobles of Westeros certainly did not want to become losers.
Aegon falling into enemy hands was bad, but it was not the end of the world. What was truly terrifying was losing Aunt Dany's "affection."
If, at such a critical moment, the allied lords were led to believe that the queen did not care about her grand nephew, what would they think?
With this thought, a cold glint flashed in Sansa's eyes as she said calmly, "You have lost your composure, Marquis Illyrio."
"I…" The fat man, who had been in turmoil moments before, immediately recovered his usual quick-wittedness upon seeing the expressions of the queen and the assembled lords. A lump of tears welled up at the corners of his eyes as he said sorrowfully, "Your Majesty, this old servant is guilty! It is only that I am far too worried about His Majesty's safety!"
Seeing how natural his expression was, so heartfelt, the very picture of a loyal minister, Sansa's heart softened. She sighed and said, "I am worried too. I am anxious as well, but anxiety is useless.
"Aunt Dany truly cannot get away. The allied army has already encamped beneath the walls of Meereen, and they may well have begun the assault by now."
Then, her gaze deepened as she subtly swept her eyes over the solemn-faced yet inwardly divided lords in the hall. With a faintly reassuring smile, she continued:
"Aunt Dany is just as anxious as I am. When she first heard the bad news, she was so heartbroken that she cried."
"Ah!" The nobles could not help but gasp softly.
Ever since the Dragon Queen led the Dothraki through the red hell, she had always given people the impression of overwhelming strength, unyielding will, and sharp brilliance, like a Valyrian steel sword, an iron lady through and through.
Yet she had actually shed tears for her grand nephew. This—
"Loyalty +50!"
"Cohesion +50!"
Above the heads of the nobles from the Riverlands, the Vale, and the Stormlands, such prompt boxes seemed to flash by.
Sansa took it all in, sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere of the hall. A trace of smugness flickered in her blue eyes as she pressed on:
"Even with the military situation in Slaver's Bay being so urgent, she still instructed me to immediately send word to Stannis.
"She is willing to ransom His Majesty according to the traditions of the Seven Kingdoms.
"She will pay the ransom. Ten thousand, a hundred thousand, even a million gold dragons makes no difference.
"But if anyone dares to harm a single hair on His Majesty's head, then in all the vast world, there will remain only one inch of ground on which Stannis can stand."
Ser Bruce lowered his head to look at his own big feet and asked curiously, "How does one stand on an inch of ground?"
Uh, this Bruce was not the same Batman from Slaver's Bay.
He was the cousin of Count Buckler of Bronzegate in the Stormlands.
Bronzegate stood on the kingsroad from Storm's End to King's Landing and was very close to Storm's End. As a result, his family had surrendered to King Aegon early on.
At this moment, Ser Bruce was accompanying the king, hoping to secure a position in the Kingsguard.
Sansa, however, was rather disdainful of him, because in his bout with Brienne, Bruce had not even lasted ten rounds.
Hearing this, she merely cast him a glance and said coolly, "Burned to ashes by dragonfire, then placed in a box one inch wide."
"Hiss—"
Everyone sucked in a sharp breath, and it seemed as though another increase in loyalty popped up over their heads.
The cap on loyalty was actually only one hundred, which showed just how low their loyalty had been before.
The Old Crab looked at the queen, who remained perfectly composed, then at the surrounding ministers who now bowed their heads obediently, and was struck speechless with shock. How old was she? She had just suffered the calamity of her husband being captured, yet at this moment she was.....
The Old Crab had not come here for Aegon's sake.
After the Vale's twenty thousand troops entered the Crownlands, they began once again to let their soldiers loot the common people.
Dragonstone had received several letters of complaint from Crownlands nobles. The Old Crab had come specifically to remind Aegon to restrain his troops.
When Westerosi nobles went to war, they seemed never to worry about provisions.
When Dany attacked neighboring New Ghis, she had shipped grain to Old Ghis months in advance. Yet when Robb led the Northmen south, he had brought almost no food at all.
They all traveled as they went, eating along the way.
Where did the food come from?They took supplies on the spot.Either the nobles along the route provided provisions, or they hunted in the forests, or merchant caravans traveled with them.
But one of the main ways of supplying the army was still to loot the common people and the lesser local nobles.
This was also why the Brotherhood Without Banners never distinguished between lions and wolves when killing. As long as they encountered soldiers entering villages or towns, none were spared.
At this moment, Aegon's army was repeating what their forebears had done countless times before.
When Old Crab came to the Vale to admonish King Aegon, he was not urging him to love the people as his own children.
In Westeros, loving the people carried too high a cost. Even if a king wished to, he simply could not afford it.
But a king must love the nobles. Old Crab was advising King Aegon: robbing the common rabble was one thing, but why harass the castles of the noble lords?
King Aegon was helpless as well. "They say an army passing through is like a comb. Just a few years ago, the lands from the Trident to the Crownlands were combed over several times by lions and direwolves alike. The common folk all fled to King's Landing to live like sparrows. There's no oil left to squeeze, so we can only target the minor nobles."
Old Crab pondered and said, "Your Grace, the Dragon Queen is well versed in Valyrian fire sorcery. She needs information about Stannis's camp on that very day, so she must have her reasons.
"You should immediately contact Duke Jon. As the Lord of Winterfell, he is the most suitable person to investigate this matter.
"At the same time, send word to Stannis and convey the Queen's intentions to him, so that His Majesty Aegon does not suffer neglect."
Sansa cast an appreciative glance at Old Crab. This was truly the counsel of a seasoned statesman.
"What Count Celtigar says is absolutely right. I will personally go to Winterfell."
"No," a Vale noble advised. "The situation at Winterfell is unclear. Your Highness must not get trapped again."
"My king is in Winterfell. How can I not go in person to confirm his safety? And Winterfell is the home of House Stark!
"It is already a supreme humiliation for a Stark son-in-law to fall in the Stark home. I believe the entire North would not tolerate the Stark eldest daughter being humiliated in Winterfell."
By the end, Sansa bit her silver teeth lightly, and both her expression and tone unconsciously carried a trace of resentment.
She truly was blaming Jon. Aegon was her husband. He could fail anywhere, but he could not fall ignominiously at Winterfell.
If I were the Queen in the North, this would never have happened. Thirteen thousand elite troops from the North and the Vale could have crushed Stannis by sheer weight, yet Jon, for some illusory honor, insisted on absolute neutrality.
"I didn't want this either. It should have been foolproof," Jon said, looking exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, tugging hard at his hair and not daring to meet his sister's reproachful gaze.
"Everything that happened that day was unreasonable. Melisandre lost her head, and her body was burned. She should not have been resurrected. Even if she were, she could not have harmed the sky-winged wyvern. Aegon did not lower his guard. He was at a safe altitude of over three hundred meters."
Jon also felt guilty and utterly at a loss.
Like Sansa, he believed that a Stark son-in-law falling at Winterfell was the greatest disgrace in the history of House Stark.
But what could he do?Kill his sovereign as a vassal?Was that not exactly what Walder Frey did to Robb at the Red Wedding?He could never follow Walder Frey's example. Maintaining neutrality was already his bottom line.
Sansa looked at Jon calmly.
He sat in the seat that had once belonged to their father, unshaven, eyes bloodshot, deeply remorseful.
She did not go to comfort him. She needed comforting herself.
"Daenerys demands an investigation into whether there was a sacrifice at the Western Keep that day," she said.
"Ramsay Bolton is dead!"
Sansa's face changed. She cried out, "Daenerys really did guess it right."
Jon nodded and sighed. "I had long harbored suspicions. After questioning the servants, I learned that there were burn marks on the floor of the western hall of the guest quarters."
"What about Theon? Is he dead?" Sansa asked anxiously.
"No. Ramsay alone was enough. He ruled as King in the North for a time. He also carried king's blood in his veins."
Do not doubt it. The Bastard of the Dreadfort truly did have king's blood.
The rules of this world were strange. If you were not a king, your blood was of almost no sacrificial value. But once you were crowned king, even if only for a single day, you and your descendants would carry king's blood in your veins.
Thus, Dany suspected that king's blood was connected to fate and the fortune of a realm.
The reason Stannis valued the Bastard of the Dreadfort and Theon was precisely because of this king's blood.
"So that means, if Melisandre wished, she could use Theon to cast another vicious curse?" Sansa said nervously.
"Don't worry. I made arrangements long ago. Half of the soldiers guarding Theon now are men of the North," Jon reassured her.
"We should never have handed those two prisoners over to Stannis in the first place."
At this point, Sansa suddenly thought of something and hurriedly asked, "Did Stannis break his oath? Back then, it was agreed that the trials of Theon and Ramsay must be conducted publicly, and they were absolutely not to be secretly sacrificed to the Lord of Light."
"So what if he did?" Jon said indifferently. "By then, both sides had fallen out completely and formally declared war."
"If he broke his oath first, you could rightfully dissolve your alliance with him. This is Winterfell. This is the North," Sansa said softly.
Once again, Sansa made Jon feel like a stranger.
"He has hostages," Jon emphasized.
"Ransoming captured nobles is a tradition in Westeros. He cannot refuse," Sansa said coldly.
"Then it depends on whether we can meet his demands."
"The North is poor, I know. But the Targaryens are not short of gold, and Daenerys is richer than nations. Even if Stannis truly demanded an overseas kingdom, she would satisfy him."
(End of Chapter)
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