Aegor rarely found his own imagination amusing, but when he pictured Arya stammering while trying to persuade her betrothed to join the Night's Watch, or racking her brains to create opportunities for her future husband to stray with her elder sister, he could not help but smile.
He had given her methods, just as she asked. But once she truly attempted them, she would quickly discover that matters were far more complicated than she imagined.
...
In the history of the Night's Watch, there had indeed been men far nobler than Harrold, the most recent being Aemon Targaryen, who nearly became king. But that blind Maester joined the Watch to prevent civil war, while Harrold Hardyng was only hoping to use a marriage alliance to raise his house in one stroke.
Their mindsets were entirely different, with no comparison.
Unless Arya had a powerful council of schemers behind her to frame her betrothed for treason, no matter how much she hinted at her admiration for the Watch, Harrold would, at most, donate some coin to the Wall to please his bride-to-be. He would never wear black.
As for Sansa, Aegor did not know this "Harry the Heir" well enough to judge the chances, but they could not be high. The Hardyngs were no more than a minor branch compared to the Starks, who held history, strength, and honor. Without that grandmother named Arryn, Harrold's family would barely be worth mention.
For such a small house to choose between the Stark sisters? Ridiculous.
Perhaps, after Robert Arryn's death, if Harrold became Lord of the Eyrie and won true power, he might come bearing gifts to propose anew. But now? Not a chance.
And Arya was not even ugly. Even if she were a grotesque monster with a waistline broader than her height, the Hardyngs would still take her gladly and treat her with respect. If she tried to create chances for Harrold to "scheme against her sister" and betrayed her intent, he would likely take it as a test of his loyalty, and only grow more cautious.
In marriage alliances, the young never held the power. Once Arya came to her senses, she would surely pester Aegor again for "more reliable methods" that did not exist. To spare himself the nuisance, he abandoned his original plan and returned to Crown Town. He resolved that, in the future, unless absolutely necessary, he would never again stop to rest at Winterfell.
---
The newly repaired King's Road made for smooth travel, and Aegor returned to his base within days. The outer district was nearly finished. After constructing the most urgent facilities and leaving sufficient room for expansion, work had begun on the outer wall encircling the entire "Crown City." Once complete, Crown Town would stand as a fortress with seven to eight hundred permanent residents, over a thousand transients, and space for five thousand people. It would anchor the center of the Gift, deterring any hand from daring to reach out.
Passing through the crowded outer district, alive with the chaos of construction, Aegor and his guards entered the castle, moving past warehouses and barracks toward the core.
There was much to do, and each task had to be handled in order. The greatest priority was to finalize the military port site and break ground, preparing to receive the artisans coming from the North. Had Robb not sent them, Aegor had planned to recruit craftsmen from across the Seven Kingdoms with high wages. Beyond their official work, he meant to lure some into private tutoring with coin, overcoming their reluctance to "teach away their trade" and having them instruct students of the Gift.
This was why he had gone personally to Winterfell to collect them, only to be driven back by Arya's harassment. But since he held command of the port's construction, he would meet those artisans sooner or later.
Never mind. First, see how the pyromancers are progressing with the Dragonglass bombs.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, a voice interrupted.
"Aegor West!"
No one in Crown Town called him that. The Commander of the Night's Watch looked up, and saw a tall, slim woman striding toward him. She was stopped by his guards when she drew within two paces.
"Ah, Lady Asha." Aegor recognized her at once, nodding politely. His eyes dropped to the chains still fastened about her ankles, and only then was he certain nothing had gone wrong elsewhere.
Months of captivity had dulled the sharpness of Balon Greyjoy's daughter, leaving her complexion wan. Yet her figure had not wasted away. "Is there some issue with your quarters, or have you remembered some information worth sharing?"
"Neither." Asha set her hands on her hips. "How long are you going to keep me locked up?"
"How long?" Aegor smiled faintly. "Let me explain. You are here because you spared the Glovers when you took Deepwood Motte, and your uncle returned the hostages. The Northern lords had no reason to kill you, but neither did they wish to release you. Winterfell had no interest in wasting guards on a single captive, so they entrusted you to the Night's Watch. Though you sit in Crown Town, you are still a hostage of the North. I merely keep you here as a favor. In other words, how long you remain captive depends on Robb Stark."
"So if that Stark boy forgets me, you'll keep me locked here for life?"
"In theory, yes." Aegor considered a moment before answering honestly. "But from what I see, you are not really locked up. Who allowed you out of your cell?"
"My Lord, let me explain…" The jailer hurried forward. "You ordered that Lady Asha not be insulted or mistreated. I believed that confining her too long would harm her health. Considering her brother serves here as an archery instructor, and out of respect for Lord Theon, I permitted her to walk about. She has been watched at all times, and only within a set area."
Even a prisoner deserved air. Aegor thought it over, then gave tacit approval. "Very well. She must not leave the inner city, nor approach the core, especially the small lake. And the irons remain."
"Yes, Lord!"
"Damn it." Asha raised her brows and ground her teeth. "You are Commander now, aren't you? Good. I demand to join the Night's Watch!"
"Unfortunately, the Watch does not take women." Aegor shrugged. "Lady Asha, not all would treat a prisoner so kindly. You eat the same food as the Logistics soldiers, sleep on the same bedding, wear clean clothes, and may bathe and walk in the air. That was not Stark's order, but my own, out of gratitude for persuading the garrison at Seagard Bay to yield, sparing needless deaths. You should feel fortunate, not press for freedom."
The Ironborn captain glared, eyes flashing as if she might spit in his face. But after a change of expression, she held her anger back and asked another question. "The North is building a fleet, and the port has been entrusted to the Night's Watch?"
How did she know? Aegor frowned, but quickly recalled that it was no secret in Crown Town. The project required recruiting from the grey-area citizens. And even if she knew, she had no way to send word out. Her uncle Euron ruled now, the very man who had murdered her father and driven her away.
"That is correct."
"I am the best captain of the Iron Islands, and perhaps all of Westeros." Asha lifted her chin proudly. "I can train sailors, mates, helmsmen, design ships, plan harbors. Anything about the sea, I know."
"Hmph." Aegor chuckled. Why did every highborn woman he knew indulge in fantasies? Arya Stark did not want marriage, and Asha Greyjoy wanted to train her enemies' navy and oversee Northern ports. "Lady Asha, you are what—twenty-four? Twenty-five? Why do you sound as naive as a child of fifteen? Do you think the North would let an Ironborn train their sailors? White Harbor and Bear Island both have men who know ships and ports. They may not be your equal, but they are not far off. I thank you for your offer, but spare yourself the trouble."
"I—" Asha faltered, silenced by his retort. After a pause, she said stubbornly, "Then give me something to do, or I will die of boredom! Anything you ask, I can do!"
Anything? Aegor was not sure if she realized the weight of that word. She was no Melisandre, sworn to his cause. This Greyjoy woman fell into the category of "best to keep one's distance."
"Crown Town is short on hands for the laundry. If Lady Asha wishes, I can arrange that." He kept his tone cool. "I promise, if the Watch ever expands a fleet, I will consider you. For now, stop troubling me. Take her back, and watch her closely."
The two guards stepped forward, seizing her arms.
"Don't touch me!" Asha struggled, but in vain. Before being dragged off, she spat out one last request. "Fine, I understand. I'll adfremain a prisoner. But tell your archery master—my brother—that the attack on the North was my father's command, not mine. I do not want him to glare at me like an enemy each time we meet!"
What does that have to do with me? Aegor resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and simply nodded. "I will, when I have time."
(To be continued.)