When Samwell walked into the banquet hall, the afterglow of the setting sun had already begun to fade.
Thousands of scented candles lit up the hall as brightly as day. Thick wool carpets covered the floor, soft and comfortable underfoot, as though one were walking on clouds.
Long wooden tables stood in the center of the spacious hall. Each table was uniformly draped in navy-blue velvet and adorned with fresh roses of various colors.
A faint fragrance lingered in the air, refreshing the senses.
A well-dressed waiter led Samwell to his seat and poured him a glass of golden Arbor wine.
There was still some time before the banquet officially began, yet quite a few guests had already arrived, chatting in pairs and small groups in low voices.
Earl Randyll and his son Dickon had also arrived, but their seats were not arranged next to Samwell.
Earl Randyll seemed not to have noticed the arrival of his eldest son at all, lowering his head as he sipped his wine. Dickon, seated beside him, waved at his older brother, as if wanting to come over and speak. However, after glancing at his stern-faced father, he did not dare to get up and wander about.
After a while, the master of the castle finally appeared.
The Duke of Highgarden looked to be in his fifties. The curly brown hair that marked the Tyrell family was already flecked with gray.
However, this "Lord Inflatable Fish" had a rosy complexion, a booming voice, and firm, powerful steps. There was no sign at all of any "physical discomfort."
Is this guy too lazy to even pretend?
Samwell muttered to himself, but still rose and followed everyone else in paying his respects to the Duke.
With Duke Mace seated upon the high chair, the banquet officially began.
Young and beautiful maids moved between the long tables like butterflies among flowers, serving dish after dish of exquisite food.
Salmon salad, charcoal-grilled venison leg, pan-fried lamprey, creamy chestnut soup, honey pine nut cake, freshly picked strawberries—and even golden-tail shrimp, a delicacy rare even on noble dining tables. Just looking at them made one's index finger twitch with temptation.
This dinner was, in fact, meant to celebrate Samwell's becoming a Pioneer Knight. Yet Duke Mace made no attempt to hide his dislike for the useless eldest son of House Tarly. After briefly introducing Sam, he immediately changed the topic to other matters.
Everyone present naturally understood why Samwell had been made a Pioneer Knight. In truth, it was merely Earl Randyll's attempt to replace his heir. No one believed that this famously useless man of the Reach could truly open up new territory.
Some were even whispering, laughing as they spread remarks like "a knight bestowed by a woman."
Regarding these gossips, Samwell decisively chose to ignore them and quietly focused on eating.
And when he cracked open the shell of a golden-tail shrimp and stuffed the tender, juicy meat into his mouth, Samwell suddenly froze.
Because he discovered that his Strength attribute had actually increased by 0.01!
Eating could increase attributes?
Was there really such a good thing?
Overjoyed, Samwell quickly swept away the rest of the food on his plate.
However, the attribute did not continue to increase.
After taking a sip of wine and thinking for a moment, Samwell formed a guess.
He called the maid behind him and said,
"May I have another golden-tail shrimp, please?"
The maid looked at the fat knight before her, suppressed a smile, and nodded.
"Of course. Please wait a moment."
When the second golden-tail shrimp was placed before him, Samwell couldn't wait to put it into his mouth.
Sure enough!
His Strength increased by 0.01 again!
It really was the golden-tail shrimp—it could actually raise the Strength attribute.
Ecstatic, Samwell turned his head and called the maid once more, asking for another serving despite the disdainful looks from those around him.
He knew that golden-tail shrimp was an extremely precious ingredient. If he wanted to eat it outside the Duke's castle, it would cost a fortune, and even then it might not be available.
So at a moment like this, there was no need to worry about banquet etiquette or noble dignity.
What's more, he had long since lost face within the aristocratic circles of the Reach.
However, when Samwell finished off the third golden-tail shrimp and showed signs of wanting more, even Duke Mace could no longer stand it and couldn't help but say,
"Sam, are golden-tail shrimp really that delicious?"
Samwell wiped his mouth with a napkin without changing expression, stood up, and saluted.
"Yes, Your Grace. This is the most delicious food I have ever eaten in my life. Please forgive me for losing my composure."
Faced with Samwell's thick skin and unabashed praise, Duke Mace was momentarily at a loss for words. Saying more would only make him look petty.
"Then go on and eat," he said at last, "but don't eat too much, or I'm afraid you won't be able to climb onto a horse tomorrow. Hahaha…"
Pleased with his own ridicule, Duke Mace laughed like a pumpkin at a harvest festival.
Everyone else laughed along, and the banquet hall filled with a cheerful atmosphere.
Samwell appeared completely oblivious to the mockery. He loudly thanked the Duke for his generosity, then turned to the maid and said,
"Another golden-tail shrimp, please. Thank you!"
You're already laughing at me anyway—damn it, if I don't eat it, wouldn't that be a loss?
But just then, the butler came over with an embarrassed expression.
"I'm terribly sorry, my lord. The ingredients for golden-tail shrimp have been used up."
Samwell suspected the man was just unwilling to feed him any more, but he could only shrug helplessly and let it go.
Duke Mace suddenly laughed again.
"Sam, there's plenty of venison in the kitchen. Would you like some more?"
Who cares about venison?
Samwell was about to decline when he heard Duke Mace's mother, the "Queen of Thorns," Olenna Redwyne, speak up.
"I've never liked this sort of shellfish. Sam, if you don't mind, you may have mine."
Samwell looked at the silver-haired, short old lady in surprise. He couldn't understand why the sharp-tongued "Queen of Thorns" from all the rumors would be so kind to him today.
He asked himself whether he was some young hero or possessed something worth scheming over—but the answer was no.
Of course, on the surface, Samwell still put on an honored expression and saluted with a smile.
"How could I possibly refuse Lady Olenna's gift?"
"All right, all right." Olenna smiled broadly. "A good knight must first have a good appetite. Take it."
The maid was about to step forward, but Olenna winked at her granddaughter, Margaery, beside her.
Margaery immediately understood. She personally picked up the golden-tail shrimp from before Olenna and walked toward Samwell.
She herself wondered why her grandmother was treating Samwell with such courtesy, but this clever girl kept her doubts to herself and cooperated tacitly with her grandmother in completing this gesture.
Flustered, Samwell hurriedly stood to thank her.
"You are a knight personally conferred by me, so there's no need to be so polite," Margaery said softly as she placed the silver plate before him, her smile gentle and composed.
Tonight, the Duke's daughter wore a pure white satin gown. Her proportions were perfect, and the fitted dress outlined every rise and curve of her figure, weaving mesmerizing lines. The intricate engraved gold headdress, the sapphire necklace at her chest, and the elegant skirt layered with silk chiffon all displayed the unique luxury of the highest nobility.
Just looking at her created a sense of distant class that made others feel ashamed.
And yet now, the most beautiful rose of Highgarden was personally delivering food to a clown like Samwell.
The sight left everyone in the hall dumbstruck.
Especially the young male guests—the invisible flames in their eyes nearly roasted Samwell alive.
However, faced with the approach of such a beautiful girl, Samwell was extremely vigilant.
On the surface, though, he still displayed the nervousness and panic a cowardly boy ought to have when facing the Duke's daughter, doing his best to conceal his inner surprise.
Watching Samwell at a loss under the charm of her granddaughter, Olenna's lips curved slightly upward as she said,
"Sam, where do you plan to develop? Do you have a goal?"
"Esteemed Lady Olenna, I… I haven't thought it through yet."
"Since you haven't set a goal, then I have a suggestion."
Hearing this, Samwell immediately became alert.
It was said that all gifts of fate had already secretly marked their price. Clearly, a gift from the "Queen of Thorns" would not come for free.
But the golden-tail shrimp had already been accepted, and this was still her territory. Naturally, Samwell didn't dare refuse and said,
"Please advise me."
Olenna shook her head, deliberately whetting his appetite.
"We won't talk business at a banquet. How about this—come see me tomorrow, and we'll discuss it in detail."
"Yes, my lady."
(End of this chapter)