Highgarden was not exactly close to King's Landing.
Thus, after leaving King's Landing, Renly brought his own guards and, together with the three hundred troops of House Tyrell stationed in King's Landing, marched south along the Rose Road. It took them only about ten days to reach the castle by the Mander River in the Reach—Highgarden.
The Knight of Flowers, Loras Tyrell; the Rose of Highgarden, Margaery Tyrell; the Queen of Thorns, Olenna Redwyne—
And also Lord of Highgarden, Mace Tyrell, newly appointed Master of Coin not long after Kal voluntarily resigned, as well as Warden of the South. All of them had followed Renly Baratheon to this place.
No—one should say that it was because they had invited Renly Baratheon that they all came here.
Originally, the very first thing Renly had planned to do after leaving King's Landing was to return to his own castle, Storm's End, to summon his bannermen and prepare to face what was to come.
But Lady Olenna's words convinced him.
So, while still on the road, he decided he would no longer sit and wait; instead, he would choose to wed the queen his elder brother had not yet had time to marry—Margaery Tyrell—and crown himself king.
Thus, on the first day of his arrival at Highgarden, House Tyrell swore fealty to him.
And early the next morning, when Ser Loras Tyrell finally found Renly Baratheon in one of the gardens, he discovered Renly sitting upright in a marble pavilion.
One hand was propping up his chin. His always neatly groomed black hair hung straight to his shoulders. His features were handsome, his chin clean-shaven.
But those green eyes were fixed on a letter lying on the stone table, and there was a faint trace of worry between his brows.
"What are you looking at?"
Loras was a little puzzled. He was carrying a plate of freshly washed fruit in his hands as he walked over and asked.
Startled by Loras's voice, Renly raised his head, looked at Loras, and gave a slight smile.
Then he put down the letter in his hand, pushed it aside, stood up, and took the fruit plate the Knight of Flowers was carrying.
He said, "A letter from King's Landing, sent by the Hand of the King, Eddard Stark."
Hearing this, Loras looked curiously at the letter, but on the outside of it he saw a golden wax seal bearing the image of a crowned stag.
This was the royal seal of House Baratheon.
As soon as Renly saw this design, he realized something.
"What does it say?" Loras asked, then sat down at the stone table, his gaze full of curiosity. He knew nothing of this letter.
Noticing that Loras's eyes were also on the letter, a scornful smile appeared on Renly's face.
"Eddard Stark wants me to return to King's Landing and bow my head in submission to my elder brother's bastard."
"And according to this bastard, if I do that, then no matter what I have done before, it will all be forgiven."
"Outrageous!"
With that said, Renly could not help but let out a cold snort.
After hearing this, Loras fell briefly silent. Then he raised his head to look at Renly Baratheon, his gaze very serious.
"In my eyes, you alone are the true king, Your Grace Renly!"
When the Knight of Flowers said this, his tone was filled with sincerity; he truly believed it.
Hearing Loras Tyrell's words, Renly looked at him with an even softer gaze.
"Yes, you are not wrong, Ser Loras Tyrell."
"So I intend to give a reply to the king Eddard Stark believes in, and tell him who truly should be the rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms!"
As Renly spoke, he picked a small cluster of grapes from the plate Loras had brought and held it up to Loras's lips.
Highgarden had countless gardens. After they swore fealty to Renly Baratheon, this particularly advantageous garden was set aside for him, so ordinarily no one would come here to disturb him.
...
Willas Tyrell was a member of House Tyrell, the eldest son of Lord Mace Tyrell and Lady Alerie Hightower, and the heir to Highgarden.
At this moment, he was feeding his falcon. Hanging in the wide garden was a deer leg. Willas used a small knife with an antler handle to cut off a strip of fresh meat and personally feed it into the falcon's throat.
The hound, seeing him lavish all his attention on that long-feathered bird, grew so anxious that strings of drool hung from its jaws, and it could not help but whine from its throat.
But with the chain fastened around its neck, it merely sat on the ground. Even though it was nearly frantic with desire, it did not move.
"Willas, you should turn around and take a look at your dog. It's about to eat your falcon."
While Willas Tyrell was fully absorbed in training and bonding with his falcon, his younger brother, Garlan Tyrell, came walking over from around a corner.
With a single glance he saw the hound's pitiful state and laughed as he teased him.
Only then did Willas look back toward Garlan. Garlan Tyrell was dressed in a green robe, and on the personal sigil embroidered on his chest were two golden roses on a green field, a symbol he used to denote his status as the second son.
His appearance resembled that of Loras Tyrell, but he was taller, stronger, and wore a beard.
In the face of his younger brother's teasing, Willas only gave a slight smile and lowered his head to look at the hound sitting on the ground, gazing up at him with eyes full of longing.
"Without my command, it will not do anything."
"Of course, I will not be harsh with it either."
As Willas spoke, he used the small knife to cut through the rope from which the deer leg was hanging, and a sizable deer leg dropped to the ground.
But even though the deer leg had already fallen to the ground, and the fresh blood and meat were wildly stimulating the hound's sense of smell and making it restless and uneasy, it still did not move.
Not until its master gave the order.
"Eat!"
At the command, the hound leapt up, seized the deer leg in its jaws, dragged it back to its own patch of ground, then bent down, pinned it with its forepaws, and began to tear at it.
Seeing this, Willas clapped his hands in satisfaction, then dragged his leg, walked a few steps to a nearby seat, and sat down.
He set the small knife he had used to cut the meat on the stone table beside him, then took a silk handkerchief from the attendant at his side and wiped away the bloodstains.
"Have you come to call me for the meal, Garlan?"
After casually wiping, Willas looked at Garlan Tyrell and asked with a smile.
After teasing the now well-fed falcon a little, Garlan, upon hearing his elder brother Willas's question, looked over.
"I came to ask what you think of the news from King's Landing."
As Garlan spoke, he also walked over to his elder brother's side.
As for Garlan's question, Willas fell silent for two seconds, then shook his head. "You should not be asking a question that is this hard to answer. Father and the others know what ought to be done."
"But when I just came from Father, he was so full of regret he was beating his chest and stamping his feet."
"Fortunately, before that, Grandmother had already driven the servants away, so no one saw what he did or heard what he said."
Although Garlan spoke as if joking, his expression was anything but light.
Right now, King Robert's sudden death had thrown the situation—once calmed with the end of the war between House Baratheon and House Lannister—back into sudden turmoil.
Yet at such a critical moment, House Tyrell had already placed its bet early.
Faced with this situation, Garlan could not help but feel uneasy
During the War of Conquest, in the battle of the Field of Fire, King Mern IX Gardener and all his sons were burned alive by dragonfire, and House Gardener perished.
The steward to the Kings of the Reach, Harlen Tyrell, took the opportunity to offer up Highgarden to the Conqueror, and for that Aegon granted Highgarden and the Reach to their family, allowing House Tyrell to rise.
From the scattered words and phrases in their own family histories, Garlan had known since childhood just how powerful those dragons that had vanished truly were.
Yet now, at such a critical time, a bastard had brought back into the world those legendary creatures that had been gone for more than a hundred years.
So how could Garlan not be uneasy?
Hearing his younger brother's words and sensing the fear in his heart, Willas Tyrell merely remained silent.
Then his gaze fell on the hound on the ground, pinning down the deer leg and tearing and chewing at it with all its strength, and no one knew what he was thinking.
Seeing him remain wordless and unmoving for so long, Garlan subconsciously turned his head to look at him.
"Brother, what do you think of this?"
"Kal El actually possesses a dragon, and before Robert died he even had him legitimized and passed the throne to him in his will."
Looking at Garlan, who was growing more and more agitated in his worry, Willas could only sigh inwardly, then let a smile return to his face.
He comforted him, saying, "Do not be anxious, Garlan. It is not as though we have no chance at all. All the things you are worrying about now are still premature."
"Grandmother and Father know what to do. All we need to do is follow their arrangements."
"But you must be ready. If this time we do nothing at all, that will be our destruction."
"House Tyrell must seize this opportunity, no matter who the final victor is."
"And besides, who can say? When is a crisis not also an opportunity?"
After Willas finished saying this, he turned his head to look toward a window of a room above the garden.
There, a short, elderly woman with a head of silver hair was watching him.
At her side stood a very beautiful girl, with soft brown curls, brown eyes, and a gracefully shaped figure.
Noticing his elder brother Willas's gaze, Garlan Tyrell subconsciously lifted his head and looked up.
Garlan Tyrell: "..."
...
"I have said before, in our family he is the one least like an idiot; he is the most suitable heir to Highgarden."
By the window, Lady Olenna Redwyne, her head lowered as she admired the garden before her and the distant Mander, had her face full of smiles.
Hearing the words of her grandmother, Margaery Tyrell could not help shifting her gaze away from her two elder brothers and looking toward her.
Faced with her granddaughter's gaze, Lady Olenna's expression remained as composed as ever, but her eyes seemed to be shining.
Then she turned, raised her hand, and took her granddaughter's hand.
"What we are going to say next should be spoken in hiding between us women. These are not words fit for boys to hear."
"Grandmother?" Margaery was somewhat puzzled.
Faced with Margaery's question, Lady Olenna did not speak at once. She simply held Margaery Tyrell's hand and turned to walk into her own room.
"Come, I have had them prepare some sweets."
Hearing this, Margaery could only fall silent and follow behind Lady Olenna.
Soon they passed through several doors, and in the process Lady Olenna instructed the maidservants to close all the doors and to keep watch, not allowing anyone to come near.
At last the two of them arrived in Lady Olenna's own bedchamber.
There was a small table here, but there were no sweets on it at all.
Margaery knew very well that Grandmother definitely had something she wished to say to her, and her expression could not help but grow solemn.
She sat down obediently and waited for Lady Olenna to speak.
"You truly are very clever, Margaery, and very beautiful as well!"
Seeing Margaery react so quickly, Olenna could not help but smile and touch her face, then sat down as well.
"Grandmother, what do we need to do?" Margaery asked again.
Yet in the face of Margaery's question, Lady Olenna merely picked up the flower tea on the table, which was still warm, and poured a cup for Margaery.
She pushed the cup toward Margaery and said with a smile, "What is it, has the news from King's Landing frightened you?"
"We all know very well how powerful Kal El is—and moreover, dragons, those legendary creatures I had only ever seen in storybooks—he has brought them into this world."
Margaery did not directly say that she was afraid, but her words undoubtedly also revealed her unease.
After returning to Highgarden from King's Landing, only then did they learn what had happened in the city of King's Landing after their departure.
But their ship had already set sail; to try to turn back now would be difficult to the point of absurdity.
"Margaery, I think you have fallen in love with him, Kal El. He truly is charming. This tourney was truly splendid—but he outshone the charm of all other men and became the brightest star of all."
Lady Olenna looked at Margaery with a smile as she spoke.
"I dare say that every woman in the Seven Kingdoms who has heard his name wants to marry him; even sharing pleasure with him only once would be enough."
"If I were still young and met such a man, I am certain I would not be able to restrain myself. I would think of every way to slip past every obstacle in the night until I delivered myself to his bed, even if it cost me my life."
As the Queen of Thorns spoke, she tilted her head back slightly, her eyes shining.
But after she finished praising that man, she then let out a sigh and looked at the "Rose of Highgarden" sitting before her with a darkened face—her poor granddaughter.
"But it is a pity that from beginning to end he has always been a clever man."
"This is also why, after that time, I told you to give him up. A man like that knows exactly what he ought to have; he is utterly rational and ruthless. And, my dear, that is also the reason he refused you."
Lady Olenna Redwyne's words were cruel, striking straight at the heart of the matter.
Hearing her words, Margaery could not help but feel a tremor in her heart.
That opportunity deliberately created in the godswood of the Red Keep had originally been House Tyrell's attempt to invest in him and put him to the test.
But from that time on, Margaery had understood what sort of man he was.
At first she had still felt curious about him and had wanted all the more to approach him.
But her own grandmother, Lady Olenna, had immediately noticed her thoughts and clearly put a stop to them.
And after learning of Kal El's response, she decisively chose to have her wed King Robert and become his queen.
But just as Olenna had said just now, Kal El's brilliance outshone the entire field.
If the other knights—even men like Prince Oberyn Martell—were as dazzling as stars in the sky, then Kal El was the sun in the heavens.
With him there, no one could see those stars.
It was not only Princess Arianne Martell of Dorne who loved him to the point of life and death; Margaery was the same.
Seeing Margaery fall silent, Olenna also said nothing, waiting for her to digest it on her own.
Fortunately, Margaery was not the sort of person who wallowed in what she had lost; she quickly cleared her head.
"So, Grandmother, what should we do next? Is House Tyrell really going to become his enemy?"
"House Stark of the North, House Arryn of the East, plus his own Westerlands and the legendary dragon—I cannot imagine anyone who could stand in his way. But we—"
"So we do not need to stand in his way."
Before Margaery could finish speaking, Lady Olenna cut her off with a smile.
Margaery's expression froze for a moment; she did not quite understand.
Olenna Redwyne only continued, "Margaery, tell me— you love him, do you not?"
"Yes, Grandmother, but I am about to become Renly's wife, and Kal El is already betrothed to Sansa Stark—"
"You are nothing like a young person," Olenna went on smiling, once again cutting Margaery off.
"Highgarden is a city of art. Countless bards compose ballads in its praise—especially those tales that sing of love; they are always so moving."
"Margaery, if I were you, I would go and pursue the love that belongs to me!"
"When Kal El needs you the most."
"You can bring heirs to his House El—no, one should say, to the royal House Baratheon."
"You can also give him the support he needs most right now!"
"Whether it is gold, soldiers, food—or love!"
Margaery's mouth fell open; she had finally understood the answer her grandmother wished to give her.
But then she could not help thinking of Renly Baratheon—brought here to Highgarden and swearing fealty to him after Grandmother had persuaded them.
"But—what about Renly Baratheon?"
Lady Olenna shook her head slightly, turned over one of the cups, and poured herself a cup of tea as well.
"A highborn noble lady, who in a time of turmoil still pursues her own love, who refuses to submit to filthy political arrangements, who will not bow to the manipulations of fate."
"What a tale that would be, worthy of song and tears!"
"Margaery, this is merely the story of you pursuing love. It is the poem of you breaking free from the shackles of House Tyrell!"
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