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The strange expressions on the two faces left Gavin puzzled. No matter how hard he thought, he couldn't figure out their intentions. But unable to make sense of it, he decided to focus on one pressing matter first—filling his empty stomach. With that in mind, he made his way to the food-laden table nearby.
It didn't take long for Gavin to realize why they had given him such peculiar looks. While he was leisurely enjoying the fine delicacies, a steady stream of young ladies and noblewomen began approaching him, eager to strike up conversations.
Their chatter came from every direction, leaving Gavin overwhelmed and flustered. Some of the noblewomen even spoke with brazen boldness, their daring and direct words making Gavin blush furiously, at a loss for how to respond.
Just as Gavin found himself utterly at a loss, Lord Mace Tyrell, seated in the hall, raised his glass for a toast.
The gesture thankfully interrupted the chaos around Gavin, offering him a much-needed break. Seizing the opportunity, Gavin quickly piled some food onto his plate and quietly slipped out into the courtyard.
Although it was now evening, the courtyard was brightly lit. Moonlight poured down like liquid silver, blending with the brilliant glow of the lanterns.
The surrounding forest was lush and green, with the rustling leaves whispering secrets to the night as a gentle breeze swept through.
Flowers bloomed amidst the interplay of light and shadow, their bright colours and sweet fragrances filling the air. A cool breeze swept through the courtyard, and Gavin found the atmosphere calming and peaceful.
Spotting a chair beneath a distant tree, Gavin made his way over there, sat down, and began to eat. Still frustrated, he thought to himself, No wonder they looked at me like that—couldn't Edmond have warned me beforehand?
"Good evening, sir. It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Margaery Tyrell."
Just as Gavin was about to focus on finishing his meal, a voice as melodious as a nightingale's song rang out from behind him.
Startled, Gavin quickly turned to see a young girl of thirteen or fourteen standing behind him. Her straight brown hair framed a delicate face as flawless as a finely carved jade sculpture. Her bright, clear eyes sparkled with a lively radiance.
Hastily setting down his plate, Gavin stood and bowed. "Good evening, Lady Margaery. It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Gavin Flower."
In his previous life, Gavin had greatly admired the character of the Little Rose when he watched the show.
Every move she made in the political game was flawless, and she often had the upper hand in her battles against Queen Cersei. It was only when Cersei upended the board entirely that Margaery's fate took a tragic turn—a downfall Gavin had always found regrettable.
Now, standing before this real-life Little Rose, Gavin couldn't help but ask, puzzled, "This banquet is in honor of your name day, my lady. As the star of the occasion, why are you here?"
Margaery, however, did not answer his question. Instead, she smiled and asked, "May I call you Gavin?"
"Of course," Gavin replied.
"Then, Gavin, why are you here?" Margaery asked, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.
Reading her expression, Gavin sighed helplessly. "I take it you already saw what happened earlier, Lady Margaery."
Margaery gracefully took a seat on the chair opposite Gavin. Swinging her legs lightly, she rested her arms on the chair and leaned forward, making a playful face at him. "I have the same trouble as you, Gavin."
After speaking, the two shared a smile.
"You may call me Margaery as well—there's no need for formalities," she said warmly. "I've seen your group competition before. It was truly impressive. You must train diligently with your sword, don't you?"
"I wouldn't say diligently, but I do practice daily," Gavin replied, taking a seat again.
With a wry smile, Margaery sighed. "Although Highgarden hosts tourneys every year, and it just so happens this year's coincides with my name day. My father spared no expense to make it grander than usual."
Hearing this, Gavin felt a flicker of confusion in his heart but chose to offer polite praise. "It may be a bit extravagant, but it's a testament to Lord Mace's deep affection for you. It seems clear that family is of utmost importance to him. To have a father like that, you must be very fortunate."
Margaery smiled gently at this, then sighed softly, her voice lowering as she spoke, "In truth, the annual tournament at Highgarden is also a bit of a reluctant measure. You've probably heard of the situation in the Reach?"
Gavin was certainly aware that the Tyrell family's control over the Reach was weak. After thinking for a moment, he responded cautiously, "I've heard a bit," but refrained from saying more.
Margaery smiled and reassured him, "It's alright, Gavin. In fact, everyone in the Reach knows that the Tyrell family's hold over the region isn't particularly strong. Holding a tournament is a way of promoting the knightly spirit and asserting the lord's authority."
After a pause, she added with a hint of helplessness, "Although the family is wealthy, holding a tournament every year not only incurs huge expenses but also makes the security of Highgarden worse. If only those funds could be used to improve the lands instead."
Hearing Margaery's words, Gavin was quite surprised. In his experience, hosting such a grand event in his own territory would undoubtedly be profitable, and the expenses could easily be covered. He curiously asked, "Doesn't the Tyrell family make any profit from the tournament?"
"The prize money and the various hospitality expenses for the nobles alone add up to no less than 20,000 gold dragons. Do you really think a tournament like this could turn a profit, Gavin?" Margaery said, her eyes wide with curiosity, looking at him.
"Don't you collect taxes?" Gavin asked, his curiosity growing.
"We do," Margaery replied with a touch of resignation. "But the taxes the tax collectors manage to gather fall far short of covering the expanses."
Gavin, intrigued, asked Margaery to explain the specifics of their tax system. After listening to her explanation, he quickly grasped the root of the problem.
There were simply too many people, with caravans flooding in from all directions. The Reach's flat terrain and numerous roads leading to or passing through Highgarden made it difficult for the tax collectors to effectively monitor and collect taxes in the crowded, scattered markets, resulting in many merchants evading taxes.
After a moment's thought, Gavin casually suggested, "Actually, there are plenty of ways to profit from a tournament like this. Take commercial taxes, for example. You could plan out a few larger commercial streets in advance, set up tents from the Tyrell family's stock, and build camps around the streets beforehand." he paused, then added.
"That way, once the tax collectors closely monitor the goods entering these commercial streets, they can collect taxes based on the quantity and type of goods. This would prevent most commercial activities from evading scrutiny. As long as there is oversight on the commercial side, merchants won't be able to avoid paying taxes. You could also charge rent for the camps outside."
Margaery looked at Gavin, her eyes filled with surprise and admiration. She hadn't expected the long-standing problem that had troubled the Tyrell family for so long to be so easily resolved by Gavin.
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