Lady Ellery Hightower watched as Dickon Tarly hurried off, unable to hold back her comment.
"Mother, wasn't that a bit too harsh? He's just a young man from House Tarly, after all."
"Since when did I need your advice on what to do?" Lady Olenna cast a sharp look at her daughter-in-law. "And don't call me mother. I don't remember giving birth to you."
Lady Ellery lowered her head, sighed, and scolded herself for stirring up the ire of the "Queen of Thorns." If she got pricked, she deserved it.
"Grandmother," Margaery interjected, wrapping her arm around Olenna's affectionately, "let me walk with you in the garden."
Margaery was among the few people who could turn Olenna's moods around in an instant.
"All right, my dear, let's go for a walk. Better that than staying here and being told I'm just a mother hen in everyone's way."
Supporting the elderly woman, Margaery guided her into the garden, filled with the fragrance of flowers.
"Grandmother, you seemed less than pleased to hear of Samwell's recent victory. Shouldn't that be good news for us?"
"Why wouldn't I be pleased that the Reach won?" Olenna replied, shaking her head with a sigh. "It's what that victory might bring that concerns me."
"What might that be?" Margaery asked curiously.
Olenna didn't answer right away. Instead, she walked with her granddaughter through the winding paths until they were out of earshot of everyone. Then she finally spoke.
"House Tyrell was once nothing more than stewards to the Kings of the Reach. After the Field of Fire, when House Gardener was burned to ashes by dragonfire, only then did we rise to inherit Highgarden. But being of lower origin, there have always been those who doubt our right to rule."
"Especially House Florent of Brightwater Keep!" she continued. "Do you think Alester, that old fox, is joking when he talks of their lineage?"
"The Reach is the richest land in the Seven Kingdoms, but that also means it's filled with ancient and powerful families, any one of which would jump at a chance to take power from us. Why do you think I went to so much effort arranging marriages to unite the Tyrells, Redwynes, and Hightowers? Only by joining these three houses in alliance could we keep the others in check."
"That," Olenna emphasized, "is how your foolish father keeps his seat as Warden of the South and Duke of Highgarden. But I'm not naive enough to think that other houses won't try the same strategy against us."
Margaery's eyes lit up with understanding. "So that's why you're so concerned about Samwell marrying a Florent."
"Exactly." Olenna didn't bother to hide her unease in front of her granddaughter. "The power of Horn Hill, Brightwater Keep, and now, Eagle's Eyrie, combined, was strong enough to defeat Dorne in this recent battle. And with Samwell's victories, the lad has soared to prominence. This alliance could soon even count Starfall and High Hermitage among its ranks. Their power would rival ours."
"But would they really turn against us?" Margaery asked, looking slightly troubled.
"Who knows?" Olenna sneered. "Sending young Dickon to Highgarden was Tarly's way of assuring us they're not a threat. But it doesn't change the fact that this Horn Hill-Brightwater-Eyrie alliance is now powerful enough to be a real danger to us. And when a sword grows too sharp, it's all too tempting to use it."
Margaery was momentarily stunned, finally grasping the full weight of her grandmother's worries.
"I'll handle the marriage plans," Olenna said, moving the conversation forward. "Dorne will likely send envoys soon to discuss terms. Meanwhile, the Tyrells can't remain silent. Inform Garlan that he'll represent Highgarden and visit Starfall. And before he leaves, tell your father to sign a decree appointing Samwell Tarly as the lord of Eagle's Eyrie."
"But, Grandmother," Margaery hesitated, "the Eyrie's castle hasn't even been completed yet. Under the Lordship Code—"
"Bah! To hell with the Lordship Code," Olenna scoffed, rolling her eyes. "After that victory, Samwell controls both Starfall and High Hermitage in practice. Do you really think he doesn't deserve a lord's title?"
Margaery remained silent, quietly acquiescing to Olenna's decision.
They walked on a little further before Margaery suddenly spoke again. "Grandmother, I would like to visit Starfall as well."
Olenna cast a sly look at her granddaughter and smiled. "Go on, my dear. Go win over that Samwell Tarly with your charm. Every lady deserves a brave and loyal knight."
---
As night fell, the grand hall of Highgarden was ablaze with lights and filled with lively chatter.
For Duke Mace's fiftieth name day, representatives from all the Reach's prominent houses had come to celebrate.
Dickon Tarly, dressed in a formal gray suit, quietly sat at his seat, occasionally glancing toward the high table where the Tyrells sat, especially Olenna.
The afternoon's conversation still lingered in his mind, leaving him tense and unsure.
Fortunately, Olenna had seemed to lose interest in him, allowing him to maintain a low profile and avoid further complications.
But, as is often the case, the more you try to avoid trouble, the more it seeks you out.
"Ser Collin," Olenna's voice suddenly cut through the hall.
Collin Florent immediately rose, bowing courteously. "Yes, my lady?"
"It's been so long since I last saw your brother Alester," Olenna remarked with a smile. "I do miss our chess matches."
Collin laughed, explaining, "My brother wishes he could have come to celebrate with the duke, but he hasn't been well…"
"Ha!" Olenna interrupted with a chuckle. "Just this afternoon, I heard from a certain young man that Alester is quite fit."
Dickon's face turned bright red.
If a hole had opened in the ground, he would've gladly disappeared into it.
"Isn't that right, Dickon?" Olenna, clearly unwilling to let the poor lad off easily, continued to prod him.
With no other choice, Dickon reluctantly stood up, stammering, "My grandfather… he…"
Fortunately, Collin Florent intervened, offering a graceful explanation, "It's true, Lady Olenna. My brother is in good health at home, but travel tires him. So, I came to represent him."
"That sounds like a reasonable excuse," Olenna nodded. "Take note, Dickon—did you learn something from that?"
Dickon was left speechless, unsure whether to say he'd learned his lesson or not.
Thankfully, Olenna let him be, turning her attention back to Collin.
"I've heard that Alester has a lovely and virtuous granddaughter named Elora Florent," Olenna remarked casually.
Collin's brow rose as he cast a quick glance at Dickon. "Yes, indeed, Lady Olenna. I'm surprised you know of her."
"I know more than just her name," Olenna said with a wry smile. "In fact, I have a mind to form an alliance between our families."
Now Dickon was beginning to realize the implications, and he felt like kicking himself for speaking too freely earlier.
As Collin's gaze fell back on him, the young Tarly was filled with frustration and regret, with nowhere to turn.
Collin cleared his throat, about to offer a tactful reply when Olenna added, "I think she would be a perfect match for my grandson, Willas. He may have lost a leg, but he's bright and sensible, and I believe he'd be an excellent husband to your Elora ."
There was no arguing that Willas was an ideal match.
Collin swallowed his response, choosing instead to nod respectfully. After all, who could turn down the hand of Highgarden's heir?
"I will convey your wishes to Brightwater, Lady Olenna," he replied.
"Good," Olenna said with satisfaction.
Collin sat back down, clearly content with the arrangement.
But poor Dickon was left standing there, burning with regret and guilt, his mind filled with a single thought:
"I think I just lost my brother's fiancée…"
What should I do?
(End of Chapter)