Devil, this man was absolutely a devil!
Margaery shivered again, her hands and feet turning ice-cold.
But unlike just a few minutes ago, when she had felt the same way, her mind was not muddled this time. She clearly understood the other party's intention: to throw her and House Tyrell into a terrifying, unsolvable game. In the world Aegor came from, this overt scheme had a well-known name: the Prisoner's Dilemma.
He proposed buying off House Tyrell with relatively small benefits in exchange for them acting as guides and betraying the vast overall interests of the Reach, or more accurately, the noble class of the Reach.
In ninety-nine percent of cases, House Tyrell, as the highest lordly house of the Reach, could not possibly accept such terms. As the rulers of a great lordship, their reputation and connections among the entire noble class were their greatest long-term interests. Such a betrayal would render three hundred years of effort meaningless. Even a simpleton like Margaery's father would not do something so suicidal just for a seat on the Small Council.
But now, they seemed to have no choice.
The only solution to the Prisoner's Dilemma was for all the families in the Reach to advance and retreat together, unanimously and resolutely opposing the agreement, resisting it by threatening to fight to the death... But this extremely ideal situation, even if only two families were involved, would be a vicious, dark struggle filled with scheming. And how many families were there in the Reach?
As long as even one of them could not withstand the threat to their life and the temptation of benefits, House Tyrell's resolute pride would only become stubbornness that helped the next Lord of the Reach succeed. Their integrity might remain in the world, but who would remember a vanquished loser years later?
Or...
Pretend to agree first, then stab Aegor in the back when he was off guard?
Margaery smiled bitterly in her heart. Just look at that utterly cautious, almost perverse attitude from just now. She, a weak woman, had even been searched before being allowed to see him. She did not think anyone could play tricks on Aegor.
After quietly thinking during this brief moment of icy clarity, she suddenly connected a string of information.
After entering the Reach, Daenerys's army had been promoting the slogan, "Daenerys is coming, no grain tax." At first, Margaery, like most nobles of the Reach, thought it was merely Aegor's propaganda tactic to weaken the people's will to resist. But now it seemed this echoed the strategy of "relocating the powerful houses of the Reach to King's Landing" and formed a combined blow against the nobles of the Reach.
Taking advantage of victory to pull all the nobles of the Reach out of their castles and confine them in King's Landing, separating them from their lands and depriving them of the ability to resist, the purpose and starting point of this were easy to understand. But the difficulty lay in this: native local nobles could easily rely on the support of their loyal subjects to continue plotting rebellion or even resist openly, hiding in the mountains and forests to wage guerrilla warfare, and so on... Even if all the great nobles were controlled, they could still exert influence remotely through their lesser noble vassals, inciting the populace to launch wave after wave of anti-royal movements.
But what if Daenerys did not immediately start collecting taxes after conquering the Reach?
Then the situation would instantly reverse. The people of the Reach, exhausted in body and mind after winter and war, could not possibly give up a good life and spend money, grain, or even their lives fighting against an extremely powerful queen who did not levy taxes or demand corvée labor, even if it was for nobles they were familiar with.
Once the new dynasty's control over the Reach stabilized and an effective ruling order was established, then the nobles of the Reach confined in King's Landing could be released back to their fiefs. At the same time, by taking the opportunity to restart tax collection, it would be easy to bind the two concepts together in the perception of the people of the Reach: nobles of the Reach equal taxes and corvée labor.
What a method of alienation!
Margaery snapped back from her thoughts, cold sweat on her brow as she admitted a fact: Aegor's insistence that the nobles of the Reach move to King's Landing had probably not been a joke or stubborn, unreasonable nonsense from the beginning, but the start of a grand, systematic, orderly castration of the nobles of the Reach.
Since there was a beginning, there was naturally a process and an end.
She suddenly shuddered, realizing how foolish she had been before.
Such a vast, magnificent, ruthless, and seemingly highly feasible plan for governing the country, and she had actually still been considering whether to resist it like a mantis trying to stop a chariot?
This great decisive battle to conquer the Reach had taken place at Highgarden, so House Tyrell had the advantage of proximity. They became the first family able to negotiate with Aegor and gain the opportunity and qualifications to join the winning side. This was simply a stroke of luck amid misfortune.
[Will you turn to dust and become ashes of history, or open your arms and embrace it?]
That metaphor she had mocked a moment ago, now that she understood it, could not have been more fitting.
So, there was no need to say how she should choose.
"House Tyrell joins!" she squeezed the words out through her teeth. "But just one seat on the Small Council is not enough!"
...
Dealing with smart people was easy.
After a brief silence, Margaery understood the stakes. She not only readily shifted her stance to Aegor's side, completing the change in position within minutes, but also used her skilled negotiation techniques to sell House Tyrell's loyalty, influence, and intelligence network for a reasonably high price...
Did you think that was the end?
No. What followed was the part that truly impressed Aegor. Perhaps to show sincerity, or because she had resolved to burn her bridges, after the price was agreed upon, Margaery seamlessly began patching Aegor's plan on the spot: how to effectively use stewards and lower nobles to ensure a stable transition of social order after confining the upper nobles, how to arrange marriages between the newly promoted military meritocrats in the Gift army and unmarried women or widows among the nobles of the Reach, both rewarding meritorious officials and silently strengthening control...
She was truly a rose with thorns, a formidable character.
Some of these suggestions contradicted Aegor's long-term goals, so he could not adopt them. Others, however, truly gave him a fresh perspective, almost making him want to grab a pen and paper to write them down on the spot. Time passed second by second. Outside the tent, the sounds of the victory feast gradually ceased. Inside the tent, the oil lamp had been refilled once.
This negotiation had gone on for too long. Now that the general terms were set, it was time to conclude and choose another time for more detailed discussions and document signing.
"It was a pleasure talking with you, Lady Margaery. I believe the alliance between House Tyrell and Daenerys will be mutually beneficial and bring the greatest interests to both sides." Aegor smiled and began to conclude the meeting, but at the very moment she should have been shown out, his tone changed, and he brought up another topic. "However, at the end of this negotiation, I still want to settle an account with you." He curled his lips. "An old debt of three thousand golden dragons, unrelated to Daenerys... I wonder if you still remember it?"
(Not at all.)
Margaery was full of confusion, but of course she knew that was not the correct answer. After a brief moment of shock, the Princess of the Reach's face quickly changed from confusion to surprise, finally settling into a blush of embarrassment and annoyance.
She remembered.
Years ago, inside the Night's Watch office in King's Landing, Aegor had intended to transfer the complete papermaking and printing production technology to House Tyrell for five thousand golden dragons... This was a very reasonable price. Given Margaery's usual style, she likely would have paid the original price after a little negotiation, treating the extra amount as the cost of making a friend. But that day, to get revenge for Aegor's coldness in Robert's camp outside the Bloody Gate in the Vale, she had deliberately feigned ignorance, teased him for a while, and finally pushed the price down to an incredible bottom line, securing it for two thousand golden dragons.
That had been one of the rare times she had completely held the upper hand in her interactions with Aegor, and Margaery had even been in a cheerful mood for several days because of it.
Who would have thought that a small joke, made without much thought and certainly without malice, would now become this man's excuse to make trouble?
Apologize and pay double?
That would be too cowardly. The current Aegor could not possibly be short of a few thousand golden dragons.
Angrily accuse him of being a petty man with a narrow mind, remembering such a small matter for years?
She would lose if she got angry.
(If I don't settle this playful so-called "old debt" in one go, it will likely be endless in the future!)
After a brief thought, the color drained from Margaery's face. She thought of a strategy to counter without losing ground.
"House Tyrell acknowledges this old debt." She raised her chin, puffed out her chest, and with a confident, charming look tinged with a hint of provocation, the kind that seemed to say, "I dare you," she elegantly turned in a circle as if dancing. "Hand of the Queen, how much do you think I, standing before you, am worth? Is it enough to cover the debt?"
(To be continued.)