The thrilling first night of the great battle had ended. But for most of Westeros south of the Wall, beyond the Gift, where neither firelight nor the sounds of horns and explosions could be seen or heard, it was merely another ordinary winter morning. Dense clouds completely obscured the sunlight, and the sunrise remained invisible. Only the gradual brightening of the eastern sky hinted at the hour. If not for the crowing of roosters, most people likely would not have known the time at all.
Winterfell, which had been silent for more than ten hours, slowly came back to life. Maester Luwin dressed and washed as usual, checked the ravenry before eating his morning meal. He discovered several new messenger ravens: one from White Harbor, two from Ice Canyon Port, and two more from Castle Black and Crown Town, respectively.
These had not been there when he last checked before going to sleep late the night before, so they must have arrived in the latter half of the night or early morning. A report from White Harbor, the North's only city, was no surprise. But receiving four birds from the Gift on the same day was unusual. Realizing that something must have happened, Luwin immediately became alert. With a mix of confusion and unease, he quickly removed the messages tied to the ravens' legs, placed the birds into cages, and fed them some minced meat. Then he opened the letters from the Gift.
After a brief glance, the old Maester's expression changed dramatically. Clutching the parchment, he rushed toward the main keep.
Moments later, Robb Stark, who had just finished breakfast, rushed out of the great hall and rang the bell in the training yard, summoning all the castle's vassals. The still-sleepy Winterfell sprang to life, as though it had been poked with a needle, and the courtyard became a flurry of activity.
The four gates were thrown open. Fully armed guards and bannermen, mounted on warhorses, poured out in waves. The ravenry also went into a frenzy, releasing raven after raven that flew toward every corner of the North.
The legendary enemy had finally arrived. And in the northernmost region of the Seven Kingdoms, there was not only the first naval port that the North planned to use against the Iron Islands, but more importantly, the Lady of Winterfell and her youngest daughter were currently at the Wall, visiting the Soldiers and civilians on the front lines.
For both public and personal reasons, for both logic and sentiment, the North could not stand idly by. Robb's order was simple and direct: rally the forces of every House and march North to support the Night's Watch.
---
That same afternoon, as the North began assembling a large army under the Stark banner, in Rosby, just north of King's Landing, where the banner of the three-headed dragon now flew, the Queen's two advisors were anxiously waiting and quietly confronting each other in the gloomy, cold hall.
Daenerys had flown south from the Gift yesterday afternoon. After flying through the night, she arrived at Rosby, the rear command post for the siege of King's Landing, by early morning. Exhausted, she ate something after landing and immediately went to rest. Upon hearing this news, Varys promptly sent a raven to Jon Connington, instructing him to bring the "nephew" to meet the Queen as soon as possible. With King's Landing sealed off, crossing the Blackwater River was no longer difficult. Having already prepared for this meeting, Prince Aegon arrived at the castle under cavalry escort by noon, but the Queen was still asleep.
Thus, the two key advisors, each with their own thoughts and neither wanting to miss the moment the Queen awoke, had no choice but to wait outside the main hall.
Bearing such a heavy burden, how can the Queen sleep?
Young people really can sleep soundly.
Littlefinger and the Spider muttered internally, watching as the sky darkened, then lightened, then darkened again. The Queen had remained in her chambers for nearly ten hours. Why had she not yet emerged?
Just as the two advisors were becoming restless, Daenerys's lazy voice finally echoed from within her room.
"Missandei?"
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
At the sound of her call, the young handmaiden stood up from her seat by the hearth and hurried into the Queen's bedchamber.
Half an hour later, Daenerys finally emerged, fully dressed and radiant once again, with Missandei's help.
"Your Majesty!" the two advisors greeted in unison, quickly approaching her. But Varys's voice was slightly louder and he spoke first. "Your nephew, Prince Aegon Targaryen, arrived at Rosby earlier today with Lord Jon Connington. They have been waiting in the guest hall all afternoon."
Petyr, displeased that Varys had spoken first despite being the Queen's Hand, quickly added, "Military reports from the Free Companies and the Unsullied are also ready to be presented. The Riverlands army and the Golden Company have reached the southern bank of the Blackwater. The Dornish forces are also marching north. Your Majesty…"
"I'm starving after that sleep, Missandei. Go to the kitchens and bring me something to eat," Daenerys interrupted softly, stifling a yawn. "Just anything will do. I'll still have dinner later... That Prince Aegon you mentioned, he arrived today? How did he know I had returned?"
Varys was caught off guard, then quickly explained, "Lord Connington had expressed the wish to meet with you through several channels, so as soon as I learned of your return this morning, I sent a raven to inform him. Now that the Golden Company and the Riverlands army are encamped just across the river, it is impossible to proceed without acknowledging them. Since a meeting was inevitable... I beg Your Majesty's forgiveness if I acted prematurely. Would you prefer to receive them now or have them wait longer?"
Daenerys frowned. As Queen, she could not voice her thoughts like a petulant child. But deep down, she truly did not wish to meet this Prince Aegon.
It was not that she intended to disrespect her guest or neglect state affairs. Her feelings were simply far too complicated regarding this suddenly appearing "nephew."
At present, opinions on Prince Aegon's legitimacy were divided. But even putting that question aside for the moment, she still found herself uncomfortable. Upon hearing that a blood relative had survived, the former "last Targaryen" should have felt joy. Yet in truth, Daenerys was filled with resentment.
No matter how much the past was dressed up, the fact remained: Aegon had grown up safely, while she and her brother Viserys lived under constant threat of assassination, serving as the lightning rods that drew Robert Baratheon's wrath. She and her brother were the ones hunted and hounded. She was the one who walked into flames and hatched dragons. She and her followers had endured countless trials and sorrows. Just as she was preparing to retake Westeros, a comfortable, sheltered nephew appeared, bearing a higher claim to the throne, supported by a mercenary army, here to share in the rewards. How could she possibly accept this without resentment?
Of course, this newly emerged nephew did not come empty-handed. The Golden Company's strength was beyond question. In theory, marrying him and becoming his Queen was the most secure and efficient path forward. Doing so would make taking King's Landing a certainty, and the Iron Throne would be within reach. She had not been able to find any reasonable grounds to refuse this option.
But now, after her education at the hands of the Commander at the Wall, Daenerys finally understood the root of the problem.
The theory behind this marriage alliance followed the very same logic that governed the endless power struggles of Westeros's feudal history.
How laughable. She claimed to want to break the wheel, yet for the longest time, she had not even realized she was still spinning inside it. Caught within the traditional framework of noble politics, she had been thinking no differently than the rest. In such confusion, how could she ever achieve her dream?
Now, however, her thoughts were clearer than ever.
Winning a kingdom is easy, ruling it is hard. Marrying Aegon and absorbing the Riverlands forces and the Golden Company into her faction would indeed be the fastest route to the Iron Throne. But when that throne was hers, and she began to implement reforms, what if her nephew and husband, the crowned king and his interest groups, refused to support her? If they accused her of being unrealistic or mad, then what power would she, merely the Queen, have to realize her dream of a world without oppression?
She must be the one on the throne. She must take the harder road.
Even so, Daenerys had no proper excuse to refuse this meeting. Like a girl reluctantly forced onto a blind date, though she had resolved to keep it brief, she still had to go through the motions.
"Let it go this time. In the future, before scheduling any meeting, consult me or my Queen's Hand," Daenerys shot a cold glance at Varys, then turned to Petyr, who had been preparing a list of talking points. "I will meet this Prince Aegon now. I want a report at dinner on everything that happened in my absence. Afterward, arrange for a meeting with the envoys from the Riverlands and Dorne. Also, prepare a schedule for me tonight. Tomorrow, I will fly Drogon over the siege lines surrounding King's Landing. I want every single Soldier to look up and see me."
Varys exchanged a brief glance with Petyr. The Queen had made her decision. The Hand of the Queen nodded in resignation. Even if he had more to say, as a loyal subject, he could not openly question her command.
As the group escorted Daenerys toward the reception hall to meet the man who claimed to be her nephew, a Soldier charged into the room from outside, breathless.
"Your Majesty! The cage of messenger ravens that Lord Moqorro took with him to the Wall has all returned after noon. They all carried the same message. It speaks of White Walkers and the dead. I could not understand if it was some code or a secret signal, so I brought it for you to see."
"What?" Daenerys's tired and unwilling expression instantly turned serious. "Give it here!"
She took the letter and scanned its contents. Her face shifted into a look of grim resolve. Without a word, she turned away from the reception hall and walked toward the exit.
"Your Majesty, where are you going?"
"Something urgent has happened. I must return to the Wall immediately."
"What? But you have only just returned, have only slept once, and have not even taken any action yet!" Varys was beside himself with panic. Just as the political situation was stabilizing, an absurd and unpredictable incident had occurred. "Prince Aegon is waiting for you. At least meet with him before you leave!"
Even Petyr, who had opposed Varys's plan to link Daenerys with Aegon, could not understand what she was doing. "Your Majesty, even if something urgent has happened at the Wall, the earliest you can arrive is tomorrow. If the Night's Watch cannot hold, you won't make it in time anyway. If they can, then a slight delay won't matter. If you rest tonight and leave in the morning, there will be no major consequence."
It took more than ten minutes to walk from the keep to the open courtyard. The two followed closely, trying to persuade her the entire way, speaking until their throats were hoarse, but it was useless. As soon as Daenerys read the warning letter, she had called for Drogon. By the time they reached the courtyard, the shadow of the great black dragon was already sweeping over their heads, descending rapidly into the center of the field.
"I am going to fulfill a promise, one I hold dear. Are you telling me to break my word?" Daenerys turned to her two advisors, frowning in anger. "Enough of this. Return to the keep. Tell Prince Aegon he may wait for me here, or return to his camp and come again the next time I arrive. He is not to attack King's Landing before I return."
"Your Majesty!" Missandei ran up behind her, breathless, holding a small box. "Your pastries. Aren't you going to eat something?"
"Give them here!" Daenerys, already preparing to mount Drogon, reached down and took the box from her hand. "Drogon flies steady. I'll eat on the way."
(To be continued.)