Chapter 78: The Lord's Daughter 2
Glyn was just laughing, recalling some deep memories, but the smile that appeared at this moment could easily be misinterpreted by others as having other intentions.
Glyn forcibly controlled his facial muscles.
The attendants inside the tent moved quietly, pouring a cup of summerwine for Glyn and Margaery.
Margaery raised her cup and sipped the summerwine, her eyes seeming to hold a hint of triumph.
Glyn remained impassive, also raising his cup. His mind raced, trying to find a way to both keep this "severance fee" and not abandon his original intention.
Glyn set down his cup and spoke, "Lady Margaery, if I return just like this, do you know what consequences I will face?"
Without waiting for Margaery's reaction, Glyn gave a low laugh and continued, "In the Red Keep, great figures may be allowed to break faith, but small folk are never permitted to fail, not even once."
"Great figures can afford not to consider the safety of small folk, but small folk must learn to look out for themselves."
With a placid expression, Glyn picked up his cup again, paused, then set it back on the table. "An ancestor of House Crabbe was named Clarence Crabbe. He relied on the blade in his hand to become a legendary hero of Crackclaw Point."
"Clement Crabbe, Lucent Crabbe, and another who shared the same name as the legendary hero, known as Clarence the Short... The three of them also relied on the swords in their hands to become members of the Kingsguard, representing the strongest knights in Westeros."
"For hundreds of years, or perhaps a thousand, maybe even longer... from its very inception, the Crabbe name has been accompanied by blood and sword, right up to this day."
Glyn reached out, picked up the cup, and tilted his head back, downing the remaining half of the summerwine in one go.
Glyn set down the cup, his gaze turning sharp. "Because of the war a dozen years ago, House Crabbe has been suppressed in the Red Keep for over a decade. It was with great difficulty that Queen Cersei, in accordance with the tradition of Crackclaw Point pledging direct allegiance to the Queen, has once again bestowed her trust."
"But now, I can already foresee a bleak future for my House."
"Just as I said, in the Red Keep, only great figures can break faith. Small folk are never permitted to fail, not even once."
"Lady Margaery, I volunteered for this task because I thought it would be exceptionally simple, merely paying respects to Lord Mace on behalf of Her Highness the Queen."
"Until just a moment ago, I was still holding onto a sliver of hope. But now, after speaking with you, I am certain that I am destined to fail the trust Her Highness the Queen has placed in me."
...
Glyn's words were like a heavy hammer, falling again and again, leaving Margaery with a feeling of being unable to catch her breath.
Glyn's performance at this moment instinctively made Margaery feel uneasy.
*Why is it like this? Did I ruin grandmother's plan? Did I misspeak somewhere?*
Margaery Tyrell suppressed the flicker of panic in her heart. She trusted her own judgment. Lord Glyn was no brute. *Is he acting for me?*
Although Margaery Tyrell's face showed nothing, her thoughts had momentarily fallen into disarray.
...
Glyn retracted the sharpness in his eyes, his gaze becoming placid. "Tomorrow, the tourney grounds will be dyed red. I will openly make every challenger bleed until the terrified knights of The Reach swarm, and the blood flows like a river."
Glyn leaned forward, his back no longer touching the chair. His body was slightly inclined, his tone gentle yet filled with confidence. "Jaime Lannister of the Kingsguard told me that I am stronger than the Sword of the Morning. Please believe me, Lady Margaery. I can definitely do it."
[Jaime had never said this; it was a well-intentioned lie from Glyn.]
Glyn's tone was calm, but the content of his words dripped with pearls of blood.
Lord Glyn was waiting for her answer. His next step depended on her choice. He had already made all preparations.
...
Silence fell within the tent. Glyn and Margaery locked eyes.
*Is this Little Rose trying to suppress my momentum with her big eyes?* Glyn naturally widened his eyes. *I'll keep staring!*
*Does Lord Glyn think I'll be afraid of him? I might be scared occasionally, but I'm never terrified! I'll stare back!*
After a moment, Glyn and Margaery broke eye contact at almost the same time, their expressions perfectly natural.
...
After a pause, Margaery Tyrell's fawn-like, timid eyes looked at Glyn again, her lips parting slightly. "It seems Lord Glyn already has a better idea. I am willing to listen."
Glyn raised an eyebrow, pondered for a moment, and sighed softly. "I think, Lady Margaery, you wouldn't want to see anything unpleasant happen on the tourney grounds, would you?"
Margaery's small face nodded slightly. "But, Lord Glyn, the tourney grounds still need to be cleaned up. Your challenge has attracted the attention of the entire Reach. Near and far, almost all the knights of The Reach are on their way here."
Glyn and Margaery had already shifted to another kind of transaction.
He could meet with Pufferfish Duke, but Margaery Tyrell had a precondition: the matter of the tourney grounds needed a perfect resolution.
...
Glyn asked, "If I take the Gold Dragons and leave here, may I ask what Highgarden's original plan was for handling the aftermath?"
*He's testing me again!*
...
Tonight's contact with Glyn, though brief, had allowed Margaery Tyrell to grow.
Perhaps it was the sudden high pressure after a smooth life that spurred her growth, or perhaps it was the result of long preparation coming to fruition. In any case, it was a precious gain from this evening.
Now, Margaery could more easily read people's hearts.
Glyn seemed to be concerned about how they would handle things afterward, but what he was really trying to probe was Margaery's influence in Highgarden. To be more specific, Glyn wanted to know how much authority Margaery could wield.
...
Margaery copied Glyn and raised an eyebrow. "I can be frank with you. I originally wanted to take this opportunity to host a grand outdoor feast. Regardless of your status, anyone could participate in the feast I host."
After she spoke, a bright light shone in Margaery's fawn-like, timid eyes.
...
*[Gasp] Rich ladies, indeed!*
Glyn agreed, "Indeed. Your beauty, combined with fine wine, would unconsciously dissipate all resentment."
Margaery Tyrell's smile was like a blooming flower. "Does Lord Glyn, perhaps, have a better idea?"
The usually calm and steady Glyn was stunned for a moment but quickly returned to normal.
The change in Glyn's face did not escape Margaery's eyes. Glyn's recent expression made Margaery feel very pleased.
...
Having achieved a certain objective, Glyn was now using his exquisite acting skills to secretly coax the Little Rose.
Glyn felt a bit tired, but the thought of thirty million Gold Dragons made all his fatigue vanish in an instant.
*I've already worked so hard to bring it over. How could I let the Little Rose tire herself out by taking it back?*
...
Glyn was thinking, had the voice he used earlier been a bit too loud?
In his earlier words, there was a line about Crackclaw Point having a tradition of loyalty to the Queen.
In other words, Glyn was also hinting to Margaery Tyrell that only a Queen who had the loyalty of Crackclaw Point could be a complete Queen. This was tradition.
Glyn was a man who paid attention to details.
Glyn would use subtle details to make Margaery Tyrell feel pleased.
Of course, the prerequisite was still to first reach their new agreement.
(end of chapter)