Chapter 628

Conquering a kingdom was easy.

Ruling it was the hard part.

The issuance of Targaryen War Bonds and the oversight of the weapons factories consumed most of Aegor’s time. But those were far from the only matters demanding the attention of the Queen’s Hand.

The day they took King’s Landing, Daenerys had been cut by the Iron Throne. In response, Aegor had suggested melting it down—not expecting her to actually agree. He had meant it as a gesture of loyalty, of concern, something symbolic. But after a bit of impromptu rhetoric, the young queen had simply shrugged, said “It’s all yours,” and left.

And just like that, he had saddled himself with multiple problems.

Dismantling the Iron Throne, transporting it to the industrial district, and smelting it down was the easy part.

The hard part was explaining to the public why their Queen had conquered the Red Keep only to immediately destroy the greatest symbol of royal authority in Westeros.

Logically, the best time to do something like this would have been after uniting the Seven Kingdoms—after securing a lasting peace.

But it was too late for that now.

So, with no choice but to double down, Aegor threw himself into controlling the narrative.

He personally oversaw the crafting of a new message:

"The Queen has melted the Iron Throne to demonstrate her commitment to peace—her rejection of the bloody cycle of war that forged it."

Would it work? Hard to say.

But at the very least, the melted throne could be turned into cannons.

As for the labyrinth of secret tunnels beneath the Red Keep and the overcrowded, filthy streets of King’s Landing… even he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

After consulting with Daenerys, they had reached a rare and immediate agreement:

The capital of the Seven Kingdoms could not remain in this wretched city.

With its endless backstreets, hidden alleys, and centuries of unchecked filth, King’s Landing was a nightmare to govern. And in a fortress riddled with countless unknown passageways, how could the Queen ever be safe?

The Red Keep would need extensive reconstruction.

King’s Landing itself required sweeping sanitation reforms.

Those would take time.

But the planning had to start now.
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Yet even more overwhelming than the work itself was the endless stream of reports.

Letters and messages arrived from all corners of the realm, piling onto Aegor’s desk like snowfall in the North.

He had no time to inspect the weapons factories. No time to review the progress on new artillery.

And yet, one particular letter—delivered that afternoon—immediately caught his attention.

It was not brought by an Unsullied.

It bore his seal, not the Queen’s.

It had been sent directly to the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, not the Hand of the Queen.

Aegor opened it at once.

The contents? A full report from the Watch.
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The first section covered the "Expedition Beyond the Wall."

Before launching the southern campaign, Aegor had engaged in extensive deception to lull the Seven Kingdoms—particularly the North—into a false sense of security.

One of the biggest lies?

"The last remnants of the White Walkers have fled beyond the Wall. The Night’s Watch is mounting an expedition to pursue and exterminate them."

This had achieved multiple goals:It misled Robb Stark and the Northern lords into thinking they had more time to prepare.It provided an excuse to send political threats and dissidents north, reducing internal opposition.

Of course, a lie was still a lie.

Aegor had no intention of actually sending those men to die in the frozen wasteland.

The original "official plan" had stated that the three vanguard groups would establish forward bases and wait for Aegor himself to arrive with reinforcements.

But Aegor was never going north.

Instead, the only reinforcements they had received were a single resupply force—bringing enough provisions to last a few months, along with new orders.

The message was simple:

"I, Aegor Wester, your Lord Commander, have determined that humanity's greatest threat lies south, not north. For the good of all, I will unite the Seven Kingdoms under Queen Daenerys before returning to deal with the Cold God. Until then, you will remain beyond the Wall. You will not return. But do not sit idle—map the lands, survey the terrain, and locate any resources of value. The Crown will reward you when the time comes."

They had two choices:Follow orders and work.Defy orders and be permanently locked out of the Wall.

The result?

They had obeyed.

The entire region between the Frostfangs and the Thenn Canyon had now been mapped.

The back of the letter contained a sketch of the terrain—mountains, rivers, former wildling settlements.

More importantly, they had discovered a copper mine.

A land rich with resources, waiting to be settled.

Which monarch wouldn’t want to expand their kingdom?

Aegor could already imagine it—presenting a fully detailed map to Daenerys, showing her a land no Targaryen had ever claimed.

And best of all?

The Wall ensured that he would have absolute control over it.

The Queen would be grateful, but the true beneficiary would be him.
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The next section of the report was unexpected.

Humanity, it seemed, was harder to kill than the White Walkers themselves.

Despite years of massacres, the expedition had still found survivors beyond the Wall.

Among them?

Craster.

The worst man in the North. The wildling who had spent decades sacrificing his sons to the Others in exchange for survival.

Somehow, he was still alive.

Along with his nineteen daughter-wives.

And a newborn girl.

Apparently, even the Cold God had a sense of consistency.

Then came something even more absurd.

Jaime Lannister.

The Kingslayer—who had missed the final battle against the Others due to being stationed at Icemark—had apparently taken his personal frustration to insane levels.

Still furious over being unable to fight the White Walkers, he had spent months leading a Night’s Watch patrol, scouring the frozen wastelands for remnants that did not exist.

Instead, he had found wildlings.

Cold, starving survivors who had barely clung to life through the Long Night.

And he had beaten them into submission.

Now, while Daenerys conquered the South, her father’s killer had effectively conquered the North.

If only over a few hundred half-dead wildlings.
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The final section concerned Arya Stark.

After Aegor had formally allowed women to join the Night’s Watch, she had eagerly become the first female brother, taking charge of Crown’s End.

That, in itself, was not an issue.

The problem?

She had brought Maester Luwin with her.

With his guidance, Arya had begun recruiting women en masse, forming a purely female military force.

Even worse?

She was now actively expanding her influence—meddling in the governance and economy of the Gift, behaving as if she were its lady ruler.

Aegor frowned.

Had she planned this alone?

Or was this House Stark making its move?

Was Luwin merely watching over Arya, or was he there to stay?

Aegor had options.

He could order the Watch to oppose Arya.

Or he could summon Robb Stark, force a confrontation, and make it clear that the North had no claim over the Gift.

Before he could decide, the door opened.

Myrcella stepped in, carrying a kettle of hot water.

“Good timing,” Aegor said, handing her the letter. “Take a look.”

He watched as she read, sipping his tea, letting his weary eyes rest.

Moments later, she looked up.

“One good thing. One bad thing,” she said.

Aegor smiled.

“Tell me your thoughts.”