The sun was setting, casting a warm, orange glow over the countryside, and illuminating a grand sight—a large procession making its way through a small village in the Crownlands. This village, where the Rose Road met the King's Road, had never seen such a spectacle. They gathered at a respectful distance, watching in awe as the grand procession passed by.
The soldiers and knights at the forefront of the procession were a dazzling sight, their armor polished to a mirror-like finish that gleamed in the dying light of the day. The colors of the houses of the Reach were proudly displayed in their heraldry—green and gold of House Tyrell dominating.
Banners bearing the golden rose of House Tyrell fluttered in the gentle breeze as the knights rode on magnificent steeds. Their steel armor was beautiful, adorned with intricate engravings and designs that spoke of both artistry and affluence. Behind the knights marched rows of soldiers, their disciplined movements and uniform attire showcasing the might of House Tyrell's forces.
Following the soldiers were the lords and ladies of the Reach, their clothes made of expensive fabrics and intricate embroidery. The cost of a single outfit worn by these nobles could easily surpass what a farmer in the village would earn in his entire lifetime. Silk, velvet, and brocade in vibrant hues were the order of the day, and jewels glittered on fingers, necks, and in elaborately styled hair.
Large carriages slowed down the procession. Decorated with gold and painted in the Tyrell colors, they were pulled by the finest horses the Reach had to offer. The largest of these carriages was especially grand, adorned with vines and golden roses. The carriage was a work of art, its craftsmanship evident in every detail.
Inside this grandest of carriages sat Olenna Tyrell, the matriarch of the family. Beside her was the beautiful Margaery Tyrell. They were accompanied by Margaery's cousins and handmaidens—Elinor Tyrell, Megga Tyrell, and Alla Tyrell. Each of these young women, dressed in their finery. Also present were Alerie Tyrell the Lady of Highgarden and Leonette Tyrell, formerly of House Fossoway, now wife to Garlan Tyrell.
Margaery leaned forward, her curiosity getting the better of her. "How long will it take to reach the capital?" she asked, her eyes bright with anticipation.
"Less than a week, sweetling," Alerie answered, smiling at her daughter.
"I can't wait to see it!" Elinor chimed in, her voice filled with youthful naivety.
Olenna Tyrell chuckled. "Oh, we'll know when we are near the capital, dear. In fact, we will know without even seeing it."
"How?" Megga asked, her curiosity piqued.
Olenna leaned in, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Because King's Landing smells of shit. You can smell it from miles away."
"Mother!" Alerie exclaimed, her tone a mix of shock and amusement.
The others couldn't help but laugh at Olenna's bluntness.
"Is it really that bad, Grandmama?" Margaery asked, her nose wrinkling in imagined disgust.
"Unfortunately, yes, my dear," Olenna replied, shaking her head. "The city may be grand, but it stinks to high heaven."
Margaery and her cousins made disgusted faces. The carriage slowly came to a halt, signaling it was time to stop for the night.
"Oh good, it's stopping. My ass has already gone numb," Olenna grumbled.
"Mother!" Alerie exclaimed again, this time more in exasperation.
"Oh, shut it, you," Olenna shot back, casting a playful glare at her gooddaughter.
The doors to the carriage swung open to reveal Loras Tyrell standing there. Exceptionally handsome, Loras had a mass of lazy brown curls and ringlets that tumbled over his brown eyes. His gleaming armor caught the last rays of the setting sun, adding to his striking appearance. The intricate designs on his armor, combined with his confident stance, made him look every bit the knight he was known to be.
"Loras," Margaery called out, a smile spreading across her face as she saw her brother.
"Time to stop for the day, ladies," Loras said with a charming smile.
"Move over, boy," Olenna said, elbowing her way past Loras as she disembarked from the carriage with surprising agility for her age.
================
The area around the halted procession was bustling with activity as servants and soldiers set up camp for the night. Tents were being erected swiftly and efficiently, with soldiers setting up protective perimeters while the servants prepared the nobles' accommodations. The nobles' tents were grand and imposing, standing out against the more utilitarian structures of the soldiers and servants. Rich fabrics in house colors fluttered in the evening breeze, and each tent was marked with the sigil of its house. Torchlight began to flicker around the encampment as dusk settled in.
The Tyrell tent was particularly luxurious. Made of green and gold fabric, it was large enough to comfortably accommodate several people. The entrance was adorned with garlands of fresh flowers, and inside, plush rugs covered the ground. Sumptuous furniture, including cushioned chairs and small tables laden with fruit and wine, were arranged to ensure maximum comfort. Candelabras and lanterns hung from the tent poles, ready to be lit as darkness fell, ensuring the tent would be bathed in a soft, welcoming light.
Inside Olenna and Margaery sat together on plush cushions, the warm glow of lanterns casting a soft light around them. Servants moved quietly around, ensuring everything was in place for the evening.
"Margaery, let's discuss our plans for the capital," Olenna began, her sharp eyes fixed on her granddaughter. "Tell me all you can about the royal family?" Olenna questioned a question she had asked many times before.
Margaery straightened, her confidence evident she answered the question like she had done a thousand times before.
Olenna nodded, satisfied with Margaery's knowledge. "Good. Your task other than being a loyal handmaiden to princess Rhaenys will be to seek out Prince Aegon and woo him. This is very important, Margaery. Our house could reach new heights with you as queen."
"I know, Grandmama," Margaery replied, her voice steady. "It's like father always says: I was born to be queen."
"Of course she is," came a jovial voice. Mace Tyrell entered the tent, followed closely by his sons Willas, Garlan, and Loras. "Margaery, you were born to be queen. I decided on it the moment I saw you."
"Thank you, Father," Margaery said, smiling.
Olenna continued, "You must also try to be friends with Princess Rhaenys, though I do not think the princess and Prince Aegon are particularly close. Still, it wouldn't hurt to have her on your side."
"Ah who would not love my golden rose" Mace said.
"Marge perhaps you could mend this rift between Prince Aegon and Rhaenys," Garlan suggested thoughtfully.
"Perhaps we are taking rumors from the capital too literally of course they would not be that close princess Rhaenys had been away in Dorne but… Garlan has a point sister, you could do something about it," Willas said.
Margaery nodded.
"Ah, Willas, speaking of courting, it is not only Prince Aegon that we need to consider..." Olenna began.
"No, Grandmother, we have talked about this," Willas said firmly.
"Princess Rhaenys is unmarried, and she will be twenty years old in a few moons. There are many rumors about why the princess still remains…unmarried."
"I was married once, and I will not—" Willas started to say.
"Yes, you will, boy," Mace interrupted. "It's been three years. It's time. Princess Rhaenys would be a fine match. We will need… to..umm… inquire why the princess is not married yet."
"Margaery is to be queen, Father. What makes you think King Rhaegar will grace our house with two royal marriages?" Willas said, his anger rising.
"I... umm..." Mace blustered.
Willas walked out of the tent.
"I will talk to him," Garlan said, following his brother out of the tent.
"When you are friendly with the princess, Margaery, try to find out why the king has not married her off yet," Olenna sighed. "There was a time Willas would have married the princess, but when we made inquiries, we learned the king had no plans to marry any of his children."
"But he is now?" Elinor asked.
"It was Prince Aegon who invited you here, Margaery. He was the one who arranged your position as Princess Rhaenys's handmaiden. We will know more when we speak with the prince," Olenna said.
"If not Princess Rhaenys, then Princess Daenerys," Mace suggested.
Olenna looked at her son with annoyance. "Mace, why don't you go and talk with the other lords? I'm sure they are missing you."
"Ah, yes, thank you for reminding me, Mother," Mace said, leaving.
"Now that your idiot father is gone, let us talk about more serious matters," Olenna said.
Olenna leaned in, her sharp eyes glinting in the lamplight. "The tourney at the end of the year will draw the entire realm. Every house of note will be present. And with them, many other ladies will be looking to catch Prince Aegon's eye."
"It's a good thing we'll be there months early," Margaery said confidently.
"Indeed," Olenna agreed, then her expression turned serious. "But there's also the matter of Prince Maekar."
"The bastard," Megga muttered under her breath.
"Shut your mouth, girl," Olenna snapped, turning to the frightened girl with a fierce glare. "You will not use such words, especially around the royal family."
"I'm sorry for Megga, Grandmama. It was a mistake," Margaery interjected quickly.
"Prince Maekar was legitimized. The king also claims he married Lady Lyanna, but all that does not matter. We cannot afford to anger the king."
The girls nodded obediently.
Olenna then began to talk, her voice lowering as if sharing a secret. "From what my spies in the capital tell me, he is extremely competent. There is also a rivalry between the brothers. They barely speak from what I am told."
"The brothers had a public argument after the siege of Castle Hayford"
"He was also made the commander of the Goldcloaks after the trial of the former commander whose downfall he is responsible for. He is dangerous," Olenna said with finality. "We don't know his motives. Considering his birth and how the rebellion ended, there is a chance of conflict on the horizon."
Margaery's face turned thoughtful. "So, we need to be cautious around him."
"More than cautious," Olenna corrected. "We need to understand him. His goals, his allies, his weaknesses. If you are to be queen, you must navigate these waters carefully. If he is a threat we need to remove him."
"Yes, Grandmama," Margaery agreed, her eyes steely with determination.
Suddenly, a piercing scream echoed through the tent. "Aaaahhh! Get it away from me!" Alerie cried, her voice filled with terror.
Loras, along with several guards, burst into the tent, their swords drawn. "What's wrong, Mother?" Loras demanded, his eyes scanning the room for threats.
Olenna, Margaery, and the others rushed to the part of the tent where Alerie stood, her face pale with fright. "Mother, what happened?" Loras asked again, his sword still ready.
"Put away the sword, boy," Olenna ordered, her tone firm.
"There is a strange raven. Look there," Alerie said, pointing to one of the railings of the tent. "It flew past me and scared me half to death."
"Is that all?" Loras said, a wave of relief washing over his face.
Suddenly, the raven flew towards them, its wings flapping noisily. "Eeeek!" Margaery and the other girls screamed in unison, their voices a chorus of panic. "Aaahhh!"
The raven swooped past them and out of the tent, disappearing into the evening sky.
"That was a strange raven indeed. Did you see its eyes, my lord?" one of the guards asked, his voice tinged with unease.
"Yes," Loras said, still looking out to where the raven had vanished.
Olenna shook her head, exasperated. "That's enough excitement for today. Loras, call your father and brother. I am hungry."