Not wanting to appear rude, Margaery quickly bowed as soon as she stepped off the ship. "Your Grace, I am Margaery Tyrell, daughter of Lord Mace of Highgarden."
Her handmaid and Horas followed suit, bowing alongside her. However, Margaery's gesture left the young man in front of her visibly confused.
"Lady Margaery, I am Young Connington, son of Jon Connington. I've come to greet you on behalf of His Grace," he explained.
Margaery felt her stomach drop. She hadn't expected to make such an embarrassing mistake so soon after arriving. For someone as meticulously trained as the "Rose of Highgarden," this sudden slip filled her with nervousness.
"Ser Connington," Horas interjected with obvious displeasure, his freckled face scowling, "Lady Margaery is here to marry a Targaryen on behalf of House Tyrell. Isn't it a bit disrespectful for Viserys to not greet her in person?"
It was a fair point. Margaery was, after all, considered the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms, and it did seem somewhat discourteous that Viserys hadn't come himself to welcome her.
Young Connington's expression didn't waver. "His Grace is preoccupied with final preparations to drive out the usurper. I am here on his behalf."
Margaery immediately sensed danger. Horas' indignant attitude could easily cause trouble, and if Viserys grew displeased because of it, she would be the one to pay the price. But the young Rose of Highgarden was more than just a pretty face—she had a keen, discerning mind. Understanding exactly what her "cousin" was thinking, she stepped in smoothly.
"Ser Connington," she said with a graceful smile, "His Grace bears the weight of a great responsibility and mission. I wouldn't dream of being a burden to him. Let us proceed to the palace."
Her words eased the tension slightly, softening his rigid stance. To him, Margaery now seemed more reasonable, not just a pretty face.
Under his personal escort, Margaery was led to a magnificent carriage adorned with the carving of a flying dragon on its roof. Knights flanked the vehicle, holding both the black banner of the three-headed dragon and the Tyrell family's gold-on-green banner as they rode down Viserys Boulevard toward the royal palace.
At the start of the boulevard stood two grand statues of Viserys and Daenerys. The dragons beneath them had their wings spread wide, poised as if about to take flight. The statues formed a roundabout, forcing the carriage to circle them before continuing onward to the palace.
Since they weren't of high enough status to travel along the 'quiet street,' Margaery was greeted by a bustling scene she had never witnessed before. The streets were alive with activity—shops teeming with people, children playing, and guards patrolling in an orderly fashion. What struck her most was the well-organized traffic, with lanes designated for opposite directions, which greatly reduced the risk of congestion.
She had expected Tyrosh, a Free City known for its reliance on slavery, to feel barbaric, yet the city radiated an unexpected air of sophistication and civilization.
As the carriage rolled through the streets, Margaery noticed the common folk bowing slightly toward her and murmuring something. Though she couldn't understand the Valyrian words, the respect on their faces was unmistakable.
"Ser Connington, what are they saying?" Margaery asked, curiosity piqued.
"Lady Margaery, many of these people were slaves not long ago. His Grace purchased their freedom, and they are expressing their gratitude when they see the three-headed dragon banner," He explained.
Viserys bought all those slaves with his own wealth? Margaery was stunned, gaining a newfound respect for the his resources and vision.
"Not just the slaves in the Hopeful Lands," Young Connington continued, "but also in Volantis, Qohor, and Norvos. They are all free now."
"That... that must be millions of gold coins!" Margaery marveled, struggling to grasp the enormity of the expenditure. The wealth of the Westerlands suddenly seemed meager in comparison.
In reality, Viserys had spent less than five million golden dragons. All of the money had been placed in the newly established "Dragon Vault," and rather than paying the slave owners in full, Viserys had only provided a 30% down payment, with the rest to be paid off gradually. This strategy helped avoid inflation and ensured that the newly freed slaves wouldn't fall into poverty.
Margaery reflected on the scale of the plan as the carriage continued. Viserys' next task, after dealing with Robert Baratheon, would be the redistribution of land. Once the land was divided, the Targaryen crown would be as secure as the mountains. And there was no time to lose—only Viserys, as the 'founding father' of this new era, had the prestige and authority to carry it out.
As they traveled further, Margaery noticed a crowd gathered around what looked like a bulletin board. People craned their necks to read the text posted there. Though she couldn't read the Valyrian script, Margaery's sharp eyes could make out that it seemed to be a list of names.
"Ser Connington, what are they looking at?" Margaery asked, watching the crowd intently.
"Exam results," he replied.
"Exam... exam?" Margaery and Horas exchanged puzzled looks. The concept was completely foreign to them.
"To put it simply," He explained, "His Grace prints questions on paper—what he calls a 'test paper'—and has the literate common people answer them. Those who score well or provide insightful answers have the chance to become officials, managing streets, villages, and towns. Many of the officials serving under the Hand of the King, my father Ser Connington. These people often are from common backgrounds, even former slaves."
"Common people governing themselves? No more need for Lords? Who will support you then?!" Horas blurted out, his voice rising in agitation. The very thought seemed heretical to him. The notion that the common folk might govern without the Lords—without the Lords, the sky will collapse, he thought.
Horas feared that if Viserys ever introduced this "strange idea" to Westeros, it would lead to nothing but chaos. Margaery, sitting quietly in the carriage, also felt that something was amiss. Yet, her focus had always been on etiquette and courtly scheming, and she couldn't quite articulate what bothered her.
Connington, however, understood the full significance. Viserys' plan wasn't merely an experiment in governance; it was a strategic move to diminish the power of the Lords and increase the power of the Emperor. Viserys didn't intend to do it all at once, though. He would begin by allowing the coexistence of local counties, gradually chipping away at the Lords' control before launching further reforms later. In Viserys' mind, it was simply a matter of copying a winning strategy, nothing too complex.
Before long, Young Connington brought Margaery to the palace. To her surprise, it wasn't as grand as she had imagined—different in style from the palaces of Westeros, but not as imposing. This would be her new home for the foreseeable future.
Meanwhile, Viserys had other concerns. His mind was preoccupied with a "deadly weapon" in the hands of Melisandre. She could control weather, and that power troubled him deeply.