Beside the Green Fork, near a simple windbreak tent surrounded by a forest of swords, spears, and countless banners, Aegor stood with his hands behind his back, head held high, gazing toward the not-so-distant silhouette of the Twins. The fortress stood tall and imposing on the banks of the river, silently awaiting the return of its emissary.
Daenerys had already flown south on dragonback, and Bolton had taken three thousand men south along the Kingsroad. Now, Aegor was the undisputed commander of the seven thousand-strong Gift and Northern Army coalition. He was finally free to command as he wished, no longer spending his days tending to Daenerys's lodgings, meals, and ceremonial dignity. With the army aiming for the Riverlands and Riverrun in particular, Aegor had taken a shortcut to reach the heartland as swiftly as possible, only to be stopped by this great river. Just like Robb Stark had been in the original timeline, marching south to save his father, he now stood before the Frey family's ancient crossing.
Of course, he didn't have to stop here. The bitter cold of winter had frozen the Green Fork solid. People and horses could cross it without issue. If he simply wanted to get across, he could bypass the Twins and continue on to his destination.
But that was not Aegor's style, nor did it serve the strategic vision he had already laid out. In this grand campaign of southern conquest, he needed to eliminate at least one-third of the nobles within what he envisioned as the future "Greater King's Landing Region." This would both pave the way for Daenerys's goals of centralizing power and breaking the wheel, and carve out a share of rewards for the loyal military meritocracy that had followed him from the beginning.
But which nobles should be removed, expelled, or executed?
Even if Aegor were arrogant, he couldn't point at names and order deaths based on personal whim. Instead, he had devised a screening strategy: force every noble to take a clear side. There would be no vague, ambiguous positions.
Those who supported Daenerys would need to publicly declare for her, contribute supplies, or send troops. Those who resisted, dodged, or tried to play dead would become sacrifices to the changing times.
And the Twins, this fortress that thrived on bridge tolls and was infamous for its lord's habitual lateness, was the first stop in that operation.
Whether the Freys, a reviled yet prolific House, would become the first to submit to Daenerys and set a good example, or be destroyed and fade into dust, depended on how the negotiations between the old lord within and his favorite son-in-law proceeded.
...
Scattered footsteps echoed nearby. Myrcella trotted over with a kettle of freshly boiled water, panting lightly as she poured a cup at a small wooden table and brought it to him.
Aegor wasn't really thirsty, but since he had asked for water, he took the cup and nodded in thanks.
Yes, the little princess had finally passed his test and departed Winterfell with the Gift Army under the guise of converting to the Red God. Her public identity was now that of a "trainee priestess" under Melisandre. But aside from sharing a carriage with the Red Priestess during the march, Myrcella clearly still hoped to remain at Aegor's side as an administrative aide. Whenever the army made camp, she would immediately ask for directions, find her way to headquarters, and either follow Aegor around asking if he had tasks for her, or chat with his guards to get familiar with them. She moved around like a spinning top, looking every bit the eager intern desperate to prove her worth.
But it wasn't just her job she was afraid of losing.
Aegor, knowing exactly what she was so nervous about, couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy. He often assigned her simple tasks to calm her down. Unfortunately, Myrcella was clever and quick, finishing everything rapidly and returning to report before long. It was both endearing and a little troublesome.
While Aegor sipped from the cup, Myrcella followed his gaze toward the Twins and asked with some concern, "Lord, Robb's been in there a long time and hasn't come out. You don't think he's been detained, do you?"
"Lord Frey is far too shrewd to make that mistake. He knows who truly commands this army," Aegor replied with a smile, shaking his head. "Detaining a Stark won't change the outcome of the war. It would only give me justification to attack the city. Robb is his highest-ranking and most favored son-in-law. It's only natural for a father-in-law and son-in-law to have a long chat when they reunite. There's no need to worry."
"What did you offer Lord Frey to make you so certain he'll agree?"
"First, that he can keep all his lands, his castle, his wealth, and his right to collect tolls. In short, everything he already owns," Aegor said as he handed the cup back. "That's the baseline. Second, I promised that after the war, he would no longer be subject to House Tully."
"No longer subject to House Tully? You mean… the Freys will become Lords Paramount of the Riverlands?" Myrcella had been struggling to think of something clever to say, but now her interest was genuine. "How much merit would they need to earn to justify that? Did Her Grace agree?"
"Of course she did. Would I dare promise it otherwise?"
Times are about to change, little girl.
Aegor suppressed the urge to boast and didn't speak the full truth.
Myrcella's surprised reaction was exactly what he wanted.
The second promise was a clever play on words. Even someone as intelligent as Roose Bolton or Myrcella would never imagine that, beyond retaking the Iron Throne, Daenerys intended to expand the Crownlands. The phrase "no longer subject to House Tully" was not a lie. It simply omitted the broader truth. In the Great King's Landing Plan, which Daenerys had approved and even favored, the Freys—like most of the Riverlands and Stormlands—would become direct vassals of the Crown, part of the new Kingdom's core.
Naturally, all nobles would oppose such a move, even those in the four autonomous regions who seemed unaffected. This policy would only be announced after Daenerys had crushed all enemies and firmly controlled Westeros. Until then, not even a harmless girl like Myrcella could be allowed to glimpse it.
"Hm…" Myrcella frowned slightly. She sensed something wasn't quite right but couldn't figure out what, so she let it go. "What if Lord Frey still refuses? You haven't ordered any siege weapons prepared."
"We'll wait until noon. If Robb doesn't return by then or brings bad news, I'll order the artillery to blast the gate, and the army will eat after the city is taken," Aegor said calmly. The Twins did not have double-layered stone walls like Winterfell. Once the gate was blown open, the city would fall. "If the old man still hasn't surrendered by the time the army has finished lunch, then House Frey…"
The sharp words he was about to say were softened into something more polite.
"…will no longer have the chance to collect tolls at the Twins."
From the start, Aegor had intended to eliminate certain Westerosi Houses as part of the Great King's Landing Plan. But he had never intended to begin that culling in the Riverlands.
There were two reasons.
First, the wolf-fish alliance had existed for many years. Striking down Riverlands nobles while the Northern Army marched beside him could lead to unrest.
Second, the Riverlands were simply too weak. They had little martial spirit and no unity. Even their ruling Houses lacked competent or strong leaders. Though they had long since shaken off Ironborn rule, they remained a scattered mess. To put it bluntly, Aegor felt they weren't even worth the trouble of subjugating.
To them, bending the knee meant paying taxes and following orders. When the Great King's Landing Plan was finally revealed, they were the least likely to rebel. So why waste effort here and risk alerting the Riverlands or Dorne?
Sometimes, being a coward or a slacker was a path to survival.
Myrcella had witnessed Aegor's bombardment of Winterfell's main keep. Though she hadn't seen the cannons themselves, having been cowering in her room, the overwhelming might of the Gift Army's mysterious weapons had left a deep impression.
She didn't doubt Aegor's ability to carry out his threats.
After a short silence, she raised a new concern.
"If the Freys accept and open the gates, my lord, you should still send someone trustworthy with guards to enter first. Only go in after confirming it's safe. And if you sleep there overnight, make sure guards are posted to watch over you."
Why are you always giving advice? Aegor nearly laughed. Did someone as cautious as him really need reminders about basic precautions?
"It's already arranged. Don't worry," he said with a chuckle. Seeing she still seemed tense, he decided to shift the topic. "Did you bring paper and pen? Since we're waiting anyway, draft a proclamation for me."
"I did, I did!"
Myrcella brightened immediately. She had come prepared. From the bag on her shoulder, she pulled out a small wooden clipboard with parchment and a charcoal pencil. Holding it ready, she looked up eagerly.
"Oh, well prepared," Aegor said, slightly surprised. Then he began dictating. "Leave a space at the top for the recipient. Write: In the name of the Protector of Westeros and Warden of the North, the Night's Watch and House Stark solemnly declare to the Seven Kingdoms: Daenerys Targaryen is the only rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms."
"The Gift and Northern Army coalition will begin their march south today in support of Her Grace's claim. Any House that responds immediately upon receiving this message and publicly pledges allegiance and support may retain its title, land, and property. Those who resist or attempt to remain neutral will bear the consequences."
Myrcella scribbled everything down quickly, growing more confident as she went. But then Aegor stopped abruptly. After a pause, she looked up, puzzled. "That's all?"
"That's all. Once we're inside the Twins, I'll have someone accompany you to find the castle Maester. The Freys have ruled here for years. There must be plenty of ravens. After copying this letter, send it to as many recipients as possible."
"But… hasn't Her Grace already sent similar messages? The nobles of the Seven Kingdoms won't be so easily frightened. Saying it again won't change their minds."
"You're right. I don't expect to scare them into submission," Aegor said with a smile. "If you think any of the wording needs refinement, feel free to polish it and bring it to me for approval. As for the effect, it's just to lay the groundwork."
"Once the Gift and Northern forces begin capturing castle after castle, we'll be able to say to every stubborn lord we meet, 'Don't say you weren't warned.'"
(To be continued.)