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Chapter 616
🕑 Added 2025-01-29 18:01:44 +0000 UTCAre you serious?
Aegor nearly blurted it out.
Asha had confessed this ambition to him months ago, but at the time, he’d assumed it was just another one of her sweet lies—a convenient excuse to get him to let her go. Who would’ve thought… she actually meant it?
It took him half a second to digest his surprise, and by the time he finally spoke, his voice was calm and measured.
“You’re certain? Even after everything that’s happened?”
“I don’t love the people of the Iron Islands—I love the land itself, the place that raised me.” Asha’s eyes were clear and resolute. “That kind of love doesn’t waver just because others misunderstand or despise me. I am certain.”
(Gods, that’s an embarrassingly dramatic line.)
Aegor resisted the urge to shudder, feeling a few goosebumps rise on his arms.
For a man like him, a self-serving pragmatist to the core, this kind of selfless devotion was incomprehensible. His instincts immediately sought out the cynical angle: was Asha truly so noble, or was this simply the last thing keeping her sane? A woman stripped of everything—her title, her family, her home—might cling to the idea of the Iron Islands as her final anchor, convincing herself she loved it just to give her life some semblance of purpose.
But setting aside his habitual mistrust, Aegor also knew that not everyone saw the world as a series of transactions. There were men like Maester Aemon, Benjen Stark, and Denys Mallister—true paragons of honor.
He didn’t need to admire them. But he could at least respect their choices.
Aegor exhaled slowly.
This is not an easy gift to accept.
The dragonsteel armor was priceless, yes, but “make the Iron Islands prosperous” was an even trickier promise—because what did prosperity mean? How rich, how strong, how developed must the Iron Islands become before the debt was considered repaid? And who would be the judge of that?
His mind instinctively began searching through old memories—was there some economic model from those television programs he used to watch that might work for the Ironborn?
----
“Thank you for your gift, Lady Asha.”
After careful thought, Aegor chose to hedge his words, not making any grand promises.
“As for your ambition, I cannot guarantee too much. But I can swear that I will do all I can to support it—within my power.”
It wasn’t the answer Asha wanted most, but it was good enough.
This man was an absolute bastard, but he wasn’t shameless enough to take her offering without at least giving her something in return.
“I have one more matter to report, Commander. It pertains to the Night’s Watch, and it is a sensitive issue. I would prefer to speak in private.”
There were only three people in the room. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who she wanted gone.
The Red Priestess glanced at Aegor, waiting for his decision. He hesitated briefly, then nodded.
“Lady Melisandre, please retire to the next room. If I require you, I will summon you.”
“As you wish, Lord Commander.”
Melisandre bowed slightly and turned toward the door.
As she passed Asha, however, her hand shot out, grasping the Ironborn’s wrist and kneading it for a moment before finally releasing her.
Aegor didn’t need to ask what that was about.
Melisandre remained by his side at all times to guard against supernatural threats. Most sorcery, she could detect at a distance. But physical contact allowed her to perceive everything.
If Asha had been ensorcelled, or if she had been replaced by some illusion or shapeshifter, Melisandre would have known.
She was clean.
“No more ‘outsiders.’ Speak.”
Asha rubbed her wrist absentmindedly—whether in irritation or contemplation, he couldn’t tell. Taking a deep breath, she said:
“Commander, do you know what the Ironborn are calling me these days?”
“I doubt it’s anything flattering,” Aegor said dryly. “Men always seem to have boundless creativity when it comes to insults.”
“The whore of the Night’s Watch.”
Asha’s tone was perfectly neutral.
“The polite ones say ‘the Commander’s whore’—that’s only because they fear your reputation. The bolder ones don’t bother with the euphemisms.”
Aegor frowned.
That’s what she wanted to tell me?
Did she consider this an internal matter for the Night’s Watch, just because the rumors involved two members?
He tilted his head indifferently. “Slander and gossip only hurt you if you let them. If you truly want to lead the Iron Islands into a better future, the first lesson you need to learn is… to treat other people’s words like farts.”
Asha rolled her eyes.
“I’m not complaining about the rumors,” she said, exasperated. “The Ironborn call me a failure, a traitor, a kinslayer—I don’t mind. At least there’s some truth to those accusations.
“But ever since the fall of Deepwood Motte, I haven’t touched a man in two years—I’m practically as celibate as a septa. Where the fuck did ‘whore’ come from?”
Aegor raised a brow. “And what exactly do you want me to do about it? Rip out the tongues of everyone who slanders you? Execute the loudest ones?”
His voice was laced with sarcasm. “If you start silencing dissent like the Mad King, you can forget about your beautiful dream for the Iron Islands.”
“Of course not.”
Asha shook her head, then suddenly smiled—an expression laced with something else.
“Instead, I thought… since I’m going to be called a whore no matter what, why waste the insult?”
Aegor’s expression didn’t change.
But something flickered in his mind.
She had prepared for this.
Psychologically, there was little attachment between them. Physically, the potential was debatable.
Once, she had envisioned herself as a strong female leader, respected and feared. But that ideal had long since crumbled to dust.
Still—there was another way.
The Ironborn revered strength.
If she could not command their respect…
Then why not stand behind a man who could?
----
Oh?
Aegor’s brow arched.
A lone man and a lone woman, alone in a dimly lit tent. And this woman had twice before offered herself to him—once screaming, “I’ll do anything!” before the gathered forces of the North, and once with the much blunter, “I’ll take payment in advance—physically.”
At least this time, she had finally learned subtlety.
He didn’t feel disgusted.
He simply watched her, gaze sharp, unblinking.
Asha stared back, unfazed.
After a few seconds, when he neither answered nor turned her away, the corners of her lips curled slightly.
With a knowing smile, she lifted the dragonsteel armor and stepped forward.
“Let’s not talk about unpleasant things anymore, Lord Commander.”
She held the armor in both hands.
“Allow me to help you… try on your new Valyrian steel plate.”
