"Astute observation." He chuckled. "Yes, as a matter of fact. My sister's most fervent supporters decided that getting rid of me was a better option to secure her reign. They failed, and they died. And I am still here.
As a result, despite my sister having nothing to do with these attempts, it was preferable to have her disinherited, if only for appearance's sake."
...
There was something left unsaid in the prince's words. As it stands, princess Arianne does not have the reputation of a chaste woman. Were her supporters in fact vying for her hand, or her lovers trying to rise the ranks or obtain her favour? In either case, princess Arianne would be more involved than prince Quentyn had told her.
But the way he seemed to not want her to be branded as a kinslayer…troubled her. If princess Arianne had tried to get him killed, surely, he would wish to slander her name to avoid her gaining any power as lady of Highgarden?
"I see." She continued, unphased. "And why send you, and not your uncle? He has come to Highgarden before and is used to us."
"My uncle Oberyn is occupied in Dorne at the moment."
"You must agree that sending their treasured prince rather than anyone else is quite a surprise to us."
"I serve Dorne." Prince Quentyn said simply. "Whatever my father asks of me, I shall do. My father himself cannot come, and my uncle has pressing matters in Dorne. This left no one else but me to come here and propose terms for an alliance that would've been taken seriously."
Dorne must still be fragile, then. This lines up with what we have heard. And if the reports from our friends in Dorne are true, then prince Doran sent prince Quentyn here to consolidate his power for he fears it is slipping away from him.
"Terms." Margaery nodded. "I must admit that you ask a lot for your spears."
"Easy to say when you get the Queenship and the Handship." He smiled. "I'd say our terms are quite generous considering how much House Tyrell will benefit from this."
"Well, I can say that we can indeed offer you justice…"
"Can you?" the prince laughed.
"Any pretender would be quick to make beautiful promises. You may promise now, but what shall happen once you actually take the throne? Discard them like Jon Arryn did when he returned to the capital? Words are wind, Margaery. Only actions speak for themselves."
"My husband the King is an honorable man. He understands your plea…"
"Does he?" the prince shook his head. "His grace was Master of Laws, wasn't he? Wasn't his job to apply the laws of the Seven Kingdoms? Where was he when we continued to ask for justice?"
Don't look away, Margaery. Look away and you've already lost the bout.
"It was a different King."
"His brother."
"They were never close."
"Close enough for him to give him Storm's End." The prince pointed out. "You see, I would like to believe your honeyed words. I would like to believe your promises.
But where are your actions? What have you done? So far, I have not seen any army. I have seen a bunch of men feasting and laughing as if it was the Harvest feast.
Why are your armies not storming the capital while the Northern and River armies keep the Lions occupied?
Where is the fabled mighty fleet of the Reach? Why hasn't it secured Dragonstone or Driftmark? You are not at war, Margaery, you are playing at one. And I won't be the only person to tell you as much.
You want our alliance? Give us something. Give us a taste of the justice you promise us, and we shall answer by pledging our spears to you. Give us a taste of what we demand, and we shall answer your call."
"And how can we be sure, in turn, that you shall honor your word? Trust works both ways, Quentyn. And the Dornish aren't exactly known for keeping their word."
The prince took a moment to think, clearly startled at the rebuttal.
"You are right, you do not have a way of being sure. But I do know that you will need our spears to win the war to come. You are a Queen, but a Queen of only two kingdoms." The prince pointed out. "There are many kings running around the kingdoms these days. Perhaps another shall prove more amenable to us."
A thinly disguised threat. The Dornish are far from being securely in our camp.
"I only wish to give you your justice, Quentyn." Margaery continued, keeping her composure. "But to give it to you, we will need time."
"Of course." He nodded back, surprising her. "We do not ask for you to give us everything right away. But you must understand that we shall choose to wait till you have made good on your promises before we do anything. A written pact would do it. Signed by your king and myself, so that it may not be broken."
"I shall discuss it with his grace."
"I thought that he would join us here. Is he so devout that he need pray for so long instead of forging an alliance with our house? Or does he not consider Dorne as one of the kingdoms he wishes to rule over?"
He's trying to destabilize me. It shall not work. Many men before you have tried.
"I'm sure his grace would be delighted to talk with you later."
"You have a way with words, Margaery." The prince leaned in. "But we both know what praying involves."
"I do not…"
"You do, you're his wife." He shook his head. "Let us not play this little game forever. I won't judge him for this. In Dorne, we are the last to lecture people on indulging in the pleasures of the flesh.
My uncle loves women and men both, and a few in my party here appreciate the company of men rather than women. I myself would find his grace handsome enough to bring to my bed should I not already be spoken for."
This caught Margaery off-guard. What was he getting at? What game was he playing?
"But this does raise the issue of an heir. I know you might be persuasive, but the fact that you are not with child yet could lead to even more conflict in the future." The prince took a sip of the Arbor Gold, and continued.
"I agree wholeheartedly with his grace's will to wish to rule a united realm. But for this, he needs to secure his line as to not invite conflict. Right now, no pretenders have such an advantage. Stannis Baratheon has a child, but it is a daughter with greyscale. If he is to win this war and sway more houses to his side, he needs an heir and fast."
"I have no doubt that I shall bear a child soon."
"I don't share your optimism, Margaery." The prince retorted simply. "I fear that the longer you delay it, the slimmer your chances will be. While his grace is still campaigning should be your best option. Lest your bannermen think it is you that is infertile and try to push you aside."
They would never. Not because of their love for me, but rather many know about Renly's escapades already. And the Reach is too valuable for him to discard.
"For someone who said that they'd be interested in looking elsewhere, you sure do care a lot about what goes on in the royal chambers." She finally countered.
"I am only offering advice." The prince crossed his arms. "How you choose to interpret this advice is entirely up to you."
"Then if you are so bold in asking these questions, surely you won't be offended if I ask you what you mean when you said that you are spoken for. Are you married or betrothed?"
"Not married." The Martell prince shook his head, scratching his curly, black hair. "Not betrothed either, although a Dornish match is likely going to be thrown my way soon. But I have a paramour."
"And who might she be?" Margaery raised an eyebrow.
"Don't push your luck." The prince smiled and quickly shrugged. "I don't doubt you'll discover it soon enough anyways."
Prince Quentyn looked in his cup and emptied the last few drops of Arbor Gold still left in it. Then, he put his elbows on the table and waited for a few moments.
"Was that why you wished to see me?" he finally asked. "I fear there isn't much we have learnt"
On the contrary, I believe I have learned a lot
"Is there anything else you wish to discuss?"
"Not at the present time." Margaery smiled. "We might yet discuss things with his grace in the near future."
"Send for me at any time." He smiled back. "It was a pleasure, your grace."
"Margaery." She quickly corrected. "And will you be participating in the melee tomorrow?"
"I fear that I am not much of a fighter, Margaery. But I shall see you at the feast. I fear that a long journey has made my and my companions long for a hot meal."
"Until tonight, then."
The prince bowed respectfully and left, leaving Margaery alone in her grand tent once more. Finally, she could breathe a sigh of relief.
She wanted to see where Dorne stood and she now knew. The exchange with prince Quentyn had been quite valuable, although, gods, were all Dornishmen so straightforward? But still, there were lessons to be taken from this.
Renly had thought that the Dornish would easily flock to his side. While she kept her doubts as to that matter, the exchange with prince Quentyn certainly confirmed it. The Dornish were a complete unknown, and as such, they were dangerous.
She would have to talk to Loras about this and have a raven sent to Willas in Highgarden. Mayhaps princess Arianne would prove to be useful to them after all.
On the other hand, their terms were technically acceptable, although the Reachers on the coast such as the Hightowers and Redwynes would have problems with the implications regarding trade.
Yet if what they desired most was justice, there wouldn't be a problem in handing them either Lorch or Clegane if they got their hands on them. She wasn't exactly a military genius, but she knew one man was worth fifty thousand.
With the Dornish having had a sense of justice, they wouldn't need to worry about them. But that would involve Renly bringing battle to the Lannisters, like the Martell prince rightfully pointed out.
Finally, there was the issue of her line. Sure, Renly hadn't impregnated her or even tried to, but she couldn't deny there was some merit to the prince's argument. To rally more houses, she would need to birth a legitimate heir. This, though, meant trying to cross another bridge with Renly.
She sighed and poured herself one last cup of wine, drinking it almost in one gulp.
Sometimes Queens had to make difficult decisions. But she would not shy away from them. She was Margaery of House Baratheon, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men. And she would rule these kingdoms. All of them.