Chapter 741

What’s next?

Daenerys was the Queen of Westeros, the first Empress of the Targaryen Empire. As the highest leader of her faction, the one steering the ship, she should have been the one contemplating and answering that question herself. But the truth was, her plans for the future of her reign had only been detailed up to the unification of the Seven Kingdoms. Beyond that—breaking the wheel, liberating all of humanity, and the like—before she met Aegor, these were little more than lofty slogans and empty ideals.

With the loss of her old advisors, Petyr and Varys, Aegor was now the sole pillar supporting the Small Council. And so, she found herself being pulled forward by the man standing before her.

From the outside, it might seem like Daenerys was merely reclining in the Red Keep, enjoying the fruits of victory. In reality, she was managing an entire kingdom, dealing with the lords who had flocked to King’s Landing in the aftermath of the war, and coordinating Aegor’s campaigns in the Reach, Volantis, and Braavos from behind the scenes. Sailing endlessly on Aegor’s warship, even with someone as capable as Tyrion to balance the burden, she and her realm were utterly exhausted—drained to the very last drop of energy.

At this moment, she had neither the strength nor the clarity of mind to think about "what comes next."

Perhaps realizing her question had been too vague, she hesitated briefly before clarifying, ensuring it didn’t sound as though she was asking Aegor how he would rule if he were king. “I’m mainly referring to… the two major policies you initiated—tax exemptions and the religious revolution—and the war against the slave masters. When, and in what manner, should they end?”

“Hm. I’ll answer the second question first. It’s simpler.” Aegor was pleased that Daenerys had taken the initiative to ask—far better than if he had to forcefully impose his ideas upon her. “The answer is—this war is already over. No matter how the Free Cities respond next, our forces will not launch any new offensives for at least six months—not until the next harvest and planting season are complete.”

It wasn’t that they wouldn’t—it was that they couldn’t. Due to the need to eventually govern the conquered territories, the looting of Volantis and Braavos had been relatively restrained. The spoils consisted mostly of gold and silver, with very few supplies for production and daily life. And while wealth was useful, one could not simply press a button and instantly convert it into gunpowder, ammunition, or provisions. The martial strength of Westeros had been spent, and it needed time to recover. No matter how strong their will, they could not defy the constraints of reality.

“Of the Nine Free Cities, we have taken three. If you compare the Free Cities to a pair of hands, then we’ve already cut off both thumbs. I have purged and eradicated the ruling classes of Lys, Volantis, and Braavos with ruthless thoroughness. This was done to serve as a warning to the remaining six cities—to show them that surrender is their only path to survival, while resistance leads only to death. At this point, no single city among them has the strength or prestige to unite the others into a coalition.

“At least three of them—Pentos, Tyrosh, and Myr—will undoubtedly surrender immediately. They are separated from Westeros only by the Narrow Sea and know they could be attacked at any moment. The remaining three—Lorath, Norvos, and Qohor—may resist, believing themselves safe due to their distance. Lorath lies on the Shivering Sea, while Norvos and Qohor are deep inland, beyond our immediate reach. They may feel emboldened to negotiate or prolong hostilities.”

“And if they refuse?”

“It doesn’t matter what they want to do.” Aegor chuckled darkly. “We need peace now because just these conquests—just the Reach, Lys, Volantis, and Braavos—will take the empire a decade or more to digest. In truth, if the slave masters hadn’t foolishly formed an alliance against us, we should have halted after the Reach and sat down for negotiations to buy ourselves time.

“The reality is that time is on our side. We have the advantage in size, governance, and technology. No matter how the remaining slavers resist, they cannot escape the fate that awaits them. The six remaining cities? To the empire, they are nothing more than cakes and preserves stored for later. The moment we face internal strife or the need for expansion, we can simply pick one of them and strike, using whatever pretext we please.

“The only difference between surrender and defiance is whether they will be treated as rebellious provinces within the empire or as foreign enemies facing inevitable reckoning.”

He can plan this far ahead?

Daenerys was secretly amazed. She made a mental note of everything he said, then eagerly pressed on: “That’s the external threat. What about our internal affairs?”

“Domestically, everything revolves around one core objective—securing your rule, Your Grace. Every policy, every reform, serves this singular purpose.” Aegor’s voice carried weight. “The short-term tax exemption? That’s to win the support of the smallfolk. We draw them away from their dependence on the nobility, weakening the aristocracy. The wealth we seized from the Reach’s lords in turn funds the tax exemption—creating a self-sustaining cycle. We must consolidate administrative, judicial, and military control over the Reach before this financial reservoir dries up.

“The religious revolution? I only initiated that because I saw that we had some surplus time in this window. It would have been a waste to focus on only one reform when we could push forward another.”

“When will it end?”

“When the job is done. When the goal is achieved, then it ends.” Aegor’s response was simple. “On the noble front, once we have completed the census of the newly annexed regions and implemented an administration loyal to you, then we are finished.

“For the religious revolution, however, it’s more complex. Our objective is to subsume the Faith of the Seven into a new state religion. The advantage? It minimizes bloodshed and destruction. The downside? The old faith will never be entirely erased. There will be no clear moment where we can declare the revolution ‘complete.’

“Theoretically, the longer we suppress the Faith, the better. But repression is only a means, not an end. Thus, I suggest we determine the revolution’s conclusion based on the success of our broader governance.”

“The plan is simple: once Your Grace’s rule over the Crownlands and newly annexed territories is firmly established, you will summon the high septons and bishops to King’s Landing for a grand religious council at the Great Sept of Baelor. There, you will declare that the Seven have delivered a divine revelation—the Truth of the Faith—choosing you as their mortal representative.

“By then, after months of financial scrutiny, humiliation, and suppression, most of the clergy will already have realized the inevitable. Those willing to accept the merging of the Faith of the Seven with R’hllor’s teachings will be granted full amnesty and reinstated into the new state religion at their previous ranks. They will be sent back to their regions to continue serving under the new doctrine.

“As for those who still refuse to bend?” Aegor smirked. “They’ll be found guilty of some financial or theological crime and exiled beyond the Wall to ‘spread the faith’ among the wildlings. The North belongs to the Old Gods—without resources or followers, those fanatics can rage all they want, but they won’t be able to stir any real trouble.”

Daenerys’ eyes gleamed as she carefully digested Aegor’s comprehensive plan, finding it astonishingly clear and well-structured.

This wasn’t just policy advice. This was a step-by-step guide—an instruction manual for empire-building.

“It’s brilliant. By the Light of R’hllor, I can’t even imagine how I would’ve untangled this mess without you.” The Queen exhaled deeply, sinking back into her chair, her body language betraying a rare moment of ease. She lifted her gaze to meet Aegor’s, her eyes filled with trust, reliance, and admiration. Then, her tone shifted playfully:

“Let’s talk about something pleasant for once. You’ve fought my wars, won my battles, and carried more of this burden than I ever imagined. My greatest general, my indispensable right hand… yet you’ve never once asked for a reward. No matter what I think to offer, it feels insufficient.

“But we’re alone now—no need for modesty. Tell me, Aegor… what do you want? Name it, and it shall be yours.”