Talking as they walked, the soldier leading the way quickly brought Aegor to the door of their destination.
House Hightower had originally thought they were hosting an honored guest and had specially vacated the largest room on the guest floor, but who would have known that the one they opened their door to invite in was a hungry wolf?
In fact, the meeting had not even ended... Even before Baelor Hightower and his brother left midway through the meeting, the personnel reshuffle and house arrest within the Hightower had already begun in an orderly fashion. Now that host and guest were almost openly at odds, and he, as the guest, still had to remain in their home, safety became very important. Aegor's guards specifically chose another secondary guest room of similar quality but slightly smaller, instead of staying in the one House Hightower had originally arranged. This way, even if there were any mishaps in security work, or if there were any secret passages in the tower, no one could accurately threaten the safety of the Hand of the Queen.
Pushing open the wooden door, a room with exquisite decoration, complete furnishings, luxury touched with elegance, and extravagance combined with comfort and practicality, appeared before Aegor.
Gorgeous brocade tapestries, thick woven carpets, a huge wide bed, generous tables and chairs, sculptures and decorations placed everywhere... These ordinary items went without saying, but in the center of the room, there was even a piece of furniture that made him feel, for a moment, as if he were in another world: a low, couch-like chair that looked as though it could seat two people.
"Hey!?"
Relaxed, he chuckled in surprise, walked closer, squeezed it, and then sat down.
Soft and yielding, it enveloped his body, and there were even several strands of noticeably strong elasticity. It looked like one, felt like one, and even sitting on it was like one. This was not a low, couch-like chair. It was a sofa.
Sofas did not require a high level of technology. It was not strange that people in the world of ice and fire had invented them, but what amazed him was that this sofa, whether in the softness of the fabric against the skin, the exquisite and unique craftsmanship, or even the filling inside, which was definitely not latex but had similar physical properties, was somewhat close to the modern industrial products he had often sat on before his transmigration. In this world where no chemical industry system existed, this thing was absolutely a luxury among luxuries, the kind even nobles could use to show off their wealth.
Never mind the North or the Wall. There was not even such a fine thing in the guest rooms of House Tyrell in Highgarden.
From the small, one could see the great. The wealth and power of House Hightower were probably beyond expectation.
"These local emperors really know how to enjoy themselves."
He shifted his body, adjusted himself into a comfortable sitting posture, closed his eyes, and rested.
Myrcella, of course, did not know that Aegor was already calculating how much he could squeeze out of House Hightower. She gently closed the door, turned around, and saw that Aegor looked a little tired, so she naturally and nimbly walked around the sofa to stand behind him. A pair of delicate little hands reached over the back of the sofa and expertly massaged the man's shoulders and neck.
The little princess's technique had become increasingly skilled and refined. Enjoying the royal-level massage, the man gave a satisfied grunt, which counted as affirmation and encouragement for her service.
"The Archbishop looked very dissatisfied when he left." The latter part of the Oldtown Self-Government plan just now had opened Myrcella's eyes, but had also left her restless with curiosity. Still wanting more, she wanted to continue talking with Aegor. "My lord, you just let him go back like that. Are you not afraid he will manipulate the church and cause trouble behind your back?"
Afraid he would cause trouble?
Aegor chuckled inwardly.
Quite the opposite. What he feared was that the man would not cause trouble.
Almost every participant in that meeting just now had left satisfied, except for the Archbishop.
Unlike giving the citizens a bundle of unprecedented autonomy, for the Faith of the Seven, Aegor had merely promised to protect religious freedom and give the Oldtown branch of the Faith a seat on the Self-Government Council... As for the Archbishop's demands that he and Daenerys publicly convert, and that he anoint Her Grace and perform the coronation, he had decisively refused.
This action was certainly because the Red God already existed as an alternative... But in fact, even if that had not been the case, he would not have given the Faith of the Seven a pleasant face.
Unlike the natural opposition between the citizen class and the feudal order, the church was the second largest beneficiary of the old order after the lords. Aside from situations where church and state were united, most of the time, the church's power stood opposite royal power, just like feudal lords... After Stannis Baratheon, who had converted to the red god, was driven back to King's Landing from Oldtown, the church formed an even stronger alliance with House Hightower. They were like fish and water to each other.
Therefore, in the Great King's Landing Plan, striking at the feudal separatism of the Reach nobles and suppressing the power of the Faith of the Seven were two parallel actions, two lines advancing at the same time, one overt and one covert. Neither could be omitted.
Kings Maegor and Jaehaerys Targaryen had paid immense effort and cost to weaken the Faith of the Seven to its current state. Aegor would certainly not release this mad dog from its cage and become a sinner for eternity.
"Hmm." He asked back without opening his eyes, "Do you think I should control him, just like I did with House Hightower?"
"Not necessarily, but you should at least take some measures instead of simply waiting for him to make a move." Myrcella's hands kept massaging, her words turning into warm puffs of air against Aegor's head. "'Strike first to gain the upper hand', did you not say that?"
"Haha, you little girl, do you write down every word I say?" Aegor happily opened his eyes. "Words can be twisted and turned, but you absolutely cannot apply them blindly to everything. In dealing with the Faith of the Seven, I cannot make the first move, for two reasons."
"Firstly, I need to win over the elite class of Oldtown to oppose their lord. Among them, although the Archbishop and the heads of other industries sit together and appear to be subordinates of House Hightower, they are actually not the same kind of people. The former belongs to the lordly class, while the latter belong to the citizen class. However, this point must be discovered by those citizen leaders themselves. I cannot tell them. If I take action against the Archbishop before they realize he is not an ally of the citizens, it will easily arouse the suspicion and fear of others, making them doubt the sincerity of my support for Oldtown Self-Government."
Myrcella understood. "So this time, you are waiting for the Archbishop to make the first move?"
"Exactly. When others are immersed in the joy of gaining autonomy, but discover that a 'compatriot' not only refuses to cooperate obediently, but instead stirs up trouble to ruin everyone's beautiful win-win situation, they will expel this person from the ranks of the citizens and push him outside the circle. Dealing with him when he is isolated will not only avoid public outrage, but might even bring help." Aegor raised his arm and spread his hand, then clenched his fist, making a gesture of crushing something. "And the second reason is that I am a publicly known follower of the Red God. Even if the identity of Chosen Emissary is hidden from the public, in the eyes of ninety-nine percent of the people in Westeros, I am a heretic. When I put House Hightower under house arrest, everyone knows this is Daenerys's dissatisfaction with the lord of Oldtown and her desire to set things right. They will not worry about being inexplicably affected... But if I rashly make a move against the Archbishop, that would be starting a religious war. Playing like that will trap you in a vast sea of enemies."
"Hmm... I understand."
"So you see, the saying 'strike first to gain the upper hand' is undoubtedly correct, but when truly put into practice, you must also consider whether the first-mover advantage it brings can offset and outweigh the sum of the other disadvantages it entails. When dealing with someone like the Archbishop, who has the church and millions of followers standing behind him, the answer is clearly no." Aegor put down his hand and closed his eyes again. "Or looked at from another angle, if being well prepared counts as striking first, then this time, we can be considered to have followed this principle."
Myrcella nodded in understanding. "But even if he causes trouble first and then you retaliate, my lord, would this not still be a struggle between the Red God and the Faith of the Seven? I do not believe that followers are so rational and just that they would support a foreign heresy simply because the church provoked it first."
"Indeed. So... dealing with the Archbishop will be done by the right person, at the right time and place, with the right reason, on my behalf." Aegor deliberately left her in suspense. "My only worry now is that the Archbishop is wise beneath his foolishness, sees through my plan, and obediently cooperates with my transformation of Oldtown, leaving me with no moral ground to act."
Wise beneath his foolishness?
Myrcella recalled the undisguised expression of annoyance and resentment on the Archbishop's chubby face when he offered to crown Daenerys and was refused, and she could not help letting out a giggle. If that fat man had that level of wisdom and cunning, he would not have been driven out of King's Landing by Stannis Baratheon in the first place.
But who exactly would that person be, the one who would deal with the Archbishop for Aegor at the right time and place? And what means and methods would he use to deal with their church without causing resistance from the followers?
The more she thought about it, the more curious she became, but this matter was likely rather confidential, so she could not ask too much. Her little heart itched, and she wished she could reach into her chest to scratch it.
Guessing at the person and the methods, Myrcella's wandering thoughts suddenly connected two things with extremely little relation to each other.
"Oh right, my lord, you seemed to have said that you wanted to use the Red God to swallow up the Faith of the Seven. Will this confrontation with the Oldtown church also serve as the opportunity to begin that prelude?"
Aegor, who had been resting with his eyes closed and had almost sunk into the sofa, suddenly opened his eyes, which flashed with a terrifying glint.
Unlike the Oldtown Self-Government plan, both the upper and lower parts of which were overt strategies that would not matter if spoken aloud, the contents of the religious revolution plan contained elements of conspiracy and surprise attack, and absolutely no hint of it could be leaked. Had this little girl overheard his conversation with the two high-ranking priests, or had she simply pieced together fragments of information and guessed it?
If it was the latter, then this level of intelligence and sensitivity was simply too terrifying.
Both admitting and denying would amount to leaking secrets. After several seconds of silence, Aegor reached his left hand to his right shoulder and held Myrcella's soft hand, which was still diligently massaging him, while his right hand patted a small area of the sofa cushion beside him. In a gentle but undeniable tone, he said, "All right, let us rest for a bit. Come sit beside me, and let us talk about something else."
(To be continued.)
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◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 200 Power Stones.
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