WILOW-Ch.436: Granddaughter of Olenna Tyrell
Red Keep, King's Landing
POV of Domeric Bolton
Margaery Tyrell gasped at his words but quickly put her hands on her mouth to not make any noise.
Then she looked at him with a great amount of scrutiny.
"Domeric Bolton. As in the same Domeric Bolton who defeated the three Lannister armies on his own and took over Casterly Rock? The Emperor Domeric Bolton?" she asked.
Domeric nodded, "Unless you know of any other Bolton, that can only be me."
Margaery bit her lip. "Do you have… any proof about your identity. I know I'm imposing. Especially when you came all the way here to rescue me, but I must know that you're the man you say you are."
He nodded and thought for a moment. Then he reached for his hilt and quietly took out Excalibur from its sheath.
Despite the low visibility in the room, thanks to only a few candles being alight, the rippling pattern, which was a distinct mark of Valyrian Steel, was quite clear for her to see.
Then he slowly sheathed his blade and raised an eyebrow.
The girl, no, woman gave him a bright smile and then jumped at him with a hug.
He frowned but didn't put his arms around her.
A moment later, she separated, and he could see tears in her eyes.
"I… Thank you so much, your majesty. I was so afraid that no one would come to save my brother and me." She said as she wiped her tears.
A simple legilimency probe told him that the tears were fake, her hug was fake, and the whole damsel-in-distress trope she was playing was fake as well.
She knew that, given how injured her brother was, no one would be able to rescue him. Even the Emperor Domeric Bolton. But she still wanted him to save her brother and was playing for his sympathy.
He almost frowned at how manipulative the girl was being, but then again, he shouldn't have been.
She was the granddaughter of Olenna Tyrell after all, and he knew what kind of woman that was.
He nodded, "You don't need to worry, my lady." He said, "I'll get both you and your brother to safety."
She bit her lip and looked at him with big, teary eyes. "Your Majesty," she said sensually as she put a hand on his chest. "My brother was wounded fighting for King Aegon's and your cause when false King Stannis Baratheon attacked our camp. I… I don't think he's in any condition to escape… And I can't leave without him. Please… I beg of you…"
Before she could continue the rather convincing, but clearly fake to him, charade, he put up a hand and gave her a warm smile.
"Don't worry, Lady Margaery. Your brother is in safe hands." He said, "I'm here to rescue both of you, and I won't leave without accomplishing my goal."
Margaery let out a sigh of relief. The first true expression he'd seen from her, aside from the shocked one when he first entered the room.
So, this is what happens when you take a young girl and put her under the tutelage of a schemer like Olenna Tyrell.
"How are you going to take us to safety, your majesty?" She said, confused, before she suddenly remembered where she was, and her eyes widened.
She looked behind him at the balcony and then back at him. "In fact, how did you come here in the first place?"
He smiled. But before he could answer, the door of the room swung open.
In that instant, he dropped to the ground and slid under the bed.
Then he watched from under the bed as someone wearing a grey robe entered the room while carrying a tray filled with something he couldn't see from his position.
"Maester Stafford." Margaery said, and he could almost see the fake but genuine-looking smile, "My brother's fever has not gone down. Please do something."
'Maester Stafford, huh…'
Domeric wondered what happened to Grand Maester Pycelle.
Did the old coot finally die of old age, or was he 'removed' by King Stannis for his part in King Robert's death?
With his enhanced senses, he could now hear the men outside chatting, and he realized that the sound-muffling charm had been broken when the Maester crossed the invisible bubble surrounding the room.
He cursed in his mind and silently applied the charm once again without anyone knowing any better.
The Maester came beside the bed and put his tray on a table before he started to check up on Loras.
He knew that if he used his potions, then he would be able to save Loras Tyrell.
But he would gain nothing from saving the boy at the moment. Even if he were given a Healing Potion now, he wouldn't be able to get back on his feet immediately, after all.
Therefore, if Domeric were going to give him a Healing Potion, he would do so after returning to camp and after everyone had seen Loras's critical condition.
Otherwise, he knew his good deed would be in vain. If he gave Loras the Potion here, the Tyrells would say upon their return that Loras was already recovering.
In these times, no one wanted to be indebted to anyone unless absolutely necessary.
Perhaps someone like Eddard Stark might have thanked Domeric out of honor after saving one of his relatives with a potion, but there were very few people like Eddard Stark.
And Domeric knew that the Tyrells were certainly not like Eddard Stark. They acted more in their self-interest than in their honor.
For the next few minutes, the Maester slowly checked over Loras' condition. Then he fed Loras some milk of the poppy before applying a healing ointment and changing the bandages.
More than a few times, he wanted to use Imperius on the Maester but held back as Margaery might notice some sudden changes in the Maester.
Unfortunately, all his waiting came to nothing when, with huge flaps of his wing, one of his wyverns finally landed on the balcony of the room.
"What was that?" the Maester asked as he straightened up and looked toward the balcony.
'Fuck…' Domeric thought.
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Next Chapters' Name:
Ch.437: Escape from the Tower
Ch.438: Whispers of a Devil
Ch.439: You Won't Do Such a Thing!