If watching others leave is called seeing them off, then what Aegor had been doing most recently could probably be called hearing them off.
Playing dead with his eyes closed, hearing became his primary means of perception. He lay motionless on the bed, quietly listening to the sounds in the room. Footsteps, the opening of the door, the howling of the cold wind, and the bickering of several children sounded one after another, until they ended, as usual, with the bang of a closing door. Only then did he slowly open his eyes.
To prevent visitors from accidentally discovering the truth, Aegor had made two preparations. On one hand, he had ordered that anyone entering the room must make an appointment and be questioned. On the other hand, he set a rule for himself, to remain in bed for an extra minute after outsiders left before getting up. This way, whether someone arrived unexpectedly or a visitor returned after forgetting something, the guards would stop and question them according to procedure, creating enough time for him to get back into bed.
Fifty-nine, sixty. Time was up.
He let out a long, heavy breath, straightened his back and sat up, swung his legs to the edge of the bed, slipped his feet into his slippers, stood up, and stretched lazily.
Then he saw the girl standing by the door.
Myrcella stood sideways toward the exit, one hand on the doorknob. She looked as if she were about to leave, but had turned her head back at the last moment after noticing something unusual. She froze there, her small mouth slightly open, her beautiful eyes wide with innocence and surprise as she stared at him.
The air instantly froze. After two seconds of staring at each other, Aegor lowered his arms, which had not even finished stretching, and raised both hands in a calming gesture, signaling her not to make a sound. He tiptoed toward her, slowly closing the distance under her gaze. When he was within a meter, his arms shot out like a mantis striking prey. Before she could scream, he grabbed her waist, covered her mouth, and pulled her into his arms.
Dragging her away from the door like a thug taking a hostage, and moving far enough from the exit, Aegor's taut nerves finally eased slightly.
His entire body was trembling, not from fear, but from tension. Anyone would be startled to suddenly discover an unexpected person in the room, and for him, this was not just startling but potentially fatal. The instant he met the girl's eyes, the only thought left in his mind was a curse. The actions of covering Myrcella's mouth and pulling her back were done entirely on instinct, his mind completely blank. Only after the immediate crisis was resolved did he regain the ability to think.
"Don't scream. Nod if you understand," Aegor said, looking down at Myrcella, who was held in his arms like a kitten. His words sounded like those of a kidnapper. Only after she nodded repeatedly did he cautiously remove the hand from her mouth. "Why are you still here?"
"I…" Myrcella was trembling as well, whether from fear or from the contact with his body, she could not tell. "I was about to leave, but the guard closed the door…"
"Does it take that long to open a door?"
"No… I… I don't know what I was thinking. I just stood there foolishly for a while."
She trembled even more violently, her voice already carrying a sob. Only then did Aegor notice the delicate warmth beneath his other hand. He looked down and realized that while his right hand had covered her mouth, his left hand had subconsciously closed around her throat. The little princess's neck was held firmly in his grip, fair and tender, slender and long, truly worthy of the comparison to a swan's neck. The sensation almost made him lose control.
This slender, jade-like neck could be snapped with very little force.
Was this so-called muscle memory? His body had already offered the safest suggestion. Kill her.
Dead people tell no tales. Strangling this lovely little girl and then staging a fall would be troublesome to explain to the Starks afterward, but it would completely eliminate the risk of this accident exposing everything. This was the choice a true schemer should make.
The question was whether he could actually do it.
Seeing Aegor fall silent, his hand not loosening at all, Myrcella's legs went weak. Regret churned in her stomach. What had been a small, harmless accident had escalated in the blink of an eye into a life-threatening crisis.
The moment she saw him sit up, she had sensed something was wrong. She realized she had unintentionally stumbled upon a shocking secret that she should never have known. The reason she did not open the door and flee was because she understood clearly that doing so would not only cause trouble for Aegor, but would force him to chase her down and kill her. In Winterfell, there was no one who could stop him. After struggling internally, she chose to stay, hoping she could resolve the situation through words, relying on their past acquaintance.
Now it seemed she had been too young and naive. How could someone who had risen from a common soldier to Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, and then to Lord of the Gift, be merely the gentle uncle he appeared to be in daily life? The fact that he had not already strangled her showed some restraint. Whether she could leave this room alive would depend on whether her next words could dispel his killing intent.
"Lord Aegor, calm down… it's me," Myrcella said, her teeth chattering, yet she forced the words out. "The poisoner has been caught and committed suicide in prison. You're fine now, so could you please let go of me?"
What was this girl talking about?
Aegor was confused for a brief moment before he understood.
It was like that old question once circulated online. When a hotel waiter accidentally walks into a woman's room while she is bathing, how should he apologize?
Saying, "I'm sorry, my lady, I didn't see anything," would be an obvious lie and the same as admitting he saw her.
The better response would be, "Sorry, sir, excuse me for disturbing you."
Myrcella was playing dumb, pretending she had not realized anything, pretending to believe he had truly just awakened from a coma. She was grasping at a sliver of hope to save herself.
She was clever and brave, Aegor had never doubted that. But even the finest qualities were only admirable when they did not threaten his interests. Now, she had accidentally uncovered his secret scheme, gained leverage over his murder and deception of the king, and become a massive threat.
In this situation, should he soften his heart and let her go, gambling with his life and everything he possessed, or should he be ruthless, crush the flower, and as he usually did, eliminate all threats at the root?
(To be continued.)
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