After struggling to get out of bed, Wright noticed two bloodstains on the sheets.
Still groggy, he made his way to the inn's dining hall, intending to have lunch. There, five people were already seated and eating:
His young apprentice Ashara Dayne, the burly Thoros, Malora Hightower, and, most notably, his long-unseen fiancée with whom he had only corresponded via letters — Nymeria Martell — and her younger sister, Tyene Sand.
The unexpected encounter with Nymeria and Tyene left Wright feeling awkward. Avoiding their gaze, he sat down and directed his attention to Thoros.
"Yesterday, I was nearly poisoned to death!"
"Impossible! My room was right next to yours, and I could hear you enjoying yourself all night," Thoros replied between bites. Malora, the eldest among them, chuckled quietly.
All four were mages. During his lessons, Wright had emphasized a mage's vulnerabilities: close combat and poison. Consequently, apart from Malora, the others had pursued both martial and magical training while researching countermeasures against various toxins. These days, ordinary poisons were easily neutralized with healing spells, and they rarely worried about such threats.
"And you, my young apprentice? Why didn't you tell me they were here?"
"I've known Nymeria and Tyene since my time in Dorne," Ashara answered honestly. "Everyone on the continent knows Nymeria is your fiancée. She told me it was meant to be a surprise, so I kept quiet."
Wright glanced at Nymeria and Tyene, unsure what to say.
"How about the three of us take a walk around the city after lunch?"
"Then hurry up and eat; we've been waiting for you for ages," Nymeria teased with a smile.
\---
The three of them strolled through the streets of Highgarden, heading toward Tyrell castle. Renly was there already; waiting. Wright walked between the two women, occasionally sneaking glances at his companions.
To his right was Nymeria Martell, three years his senior. She was nearly his height, with a slim yet curvaceous figure. She had dark eyes and black hair. Her full lips and striking features were further complemented by the red-and-gold ribbons woven into her long braided hair, giving her an exotic, Angelina Jolie-like allure.
On his left was her younger sister, Tyene Sand. Only reaching his shoulder, she was a golden-haired, blue-eyed beauty. Unlike her sister's wild and untamed presence, Tyene exuded a quiet, sweet charm.
Wright, recalling the intimacy shared with Nymeria and Tyene the previous night, grew bolder. Without hesitation, he wrapped an arm around each of their waists.
"Hey, are these the poisons you used to 'poison' me?" Wright's hand brushed against Tyene's waist, discovering small vials hidden beneath her clothes.
"Of course. You mentioned alchemy in your letters, and we've often exchanged ideas on poison crafting, haven't we?" Tyene replied with a playful smile, tugging lightly on Wright's sleeve as she had done since they were children.
Wright realized, to his dismay, that he'd been poisoned by his own concoctions. He had taught Tyene alchemy, inspired by the poisons she'd mastered in his previous life. Now, she had refined her craft, using alchemical methods to create poisons that even he couldn't easily detect.
"And you, Nymeria? Isn't it heavy carrying all these throwing knives around your waist?" Wright's hand brushed over Nymeria's side, feeling the weapons concealed there.
"With Tyene's help, each knife is coated with a different poison. They're much smaller now, making them easier to carry," Nymeria said casually, intertwining her fingers with Wright's.
"How did you two end up together? What about your other sisters?"
"Ever since our engagement was announced, my other sisters have distanced themselves from me. Only Tyene stayed by my side. Officially, she's my handmaid," Nymeria explained. Then, with a mischievous grin, she added, "And by the way, Tyene's far better than you — your repertoire is far too limited." She playfully caressed Tyene's cheek, prompting the younger woman to wink at Wright.
Wright was stunned by their openness but couldn't help feeling a mix of surprise and excitement.
"So, how did you meet Ashara?"
"You mentioned in your letters that you had a prospective apprentice. During our travels in Dorne, we visited Starfall to find her. She's clever and talented, so we stayed there for a few months and taught her some spear techniques, as well as throwing knives and dagger combat."
"Strange, I've never seen her use them."
"She's already burdened with the House Dayne swordsmanship. Carrying two swords leaves little room for anything else," Nymeria said.
"Dayne swordsmanship is remarkable. When I was younger, I learned a few moves from Arthur Dayne himself. It's a shame they haven't produced a new Sword of the Morning since then."
As the three strolled through the streets of Highgarden, their initial awkwardness from years of communication only through letters quickly faded. Soon, they were laughing and chatting as they had in their youth, though now their bond was undeniably deeper. Passersby glanced at them but thought nothing of it — Dornish women were famously bold, and such sights were common in the city.
\---
Inside Highgarden Castle, the guards, already informed of Wright's visit, led the trio straight to the receiving room.
Willas Tyrell, seated in his wheelchair, pulled a golden pocket watch engraved with a rose emblem from his shirt pocket. Opening the cover, he glanced at the gem-set markers for each hour.
"Where is Wright? He's late," he said, frowning.
Renly, sitting nearby, produced his own gray-black pocket watch engraved with the crowned stag of House Baratheon. "Wright was always punctual when he traveled alone. But now he's accompanied by three mage apprentices, and I hear they've already caught a con artist in the city today. Let him take his time."
"No need — I'm already here!" Wright's voice echoed from the hallway.
Both men turned their heads to see Wright entering the room, flanked by two women in Dornish attire. Willas gave him a questioning look, while Renly seemed lost in thought, trying to place their faces.
"Allow me to introduce you," Wright began. "This is Willas Tyrell, the eldest son of Lord Mace Tyrell of Highgarden." Willas, seated in his wheelchair, gave a polite nod.
"And this one—you can probably tell from his looks alone—is Lord Renly Baratheon of Storm's End." Renly also nodded in greeting.
"And here," Wright continued, gesturing to the two women beside him, "is my betrothed, Nymeria Martell, and her sister, Tyene Sand."
Renly's eyes widened in surprise. "So, it's you two! I thought I recognized you somewhere — it's my younger brother's fiancée!"
The four individuals represented the major powers of the southern realms of Westeros. While they were well-acquainted through correspondence and trade, it was the first time some of them had met in person. They were strangers who felt oddly familiar.
"Wright's here?" A melodic voice interrupted the introductions as Margaery Tyrell entered the room.
"The little rose of Highgarden! Growing lovelier every day, though still not much taller. Ha!" Wright quipped with a playful grin.
Margaery responded with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I heard the Archmage had arrived, so I came to pay my respects. But why didn't you fly in through the window like a true archmage?"
"Well, here's a secret," Wright countered with a grin. "I'm not just a mage; I'm a warrior. My feet prefer the ground—they keep me steady."
Renly, sensing the brewing banter between the two, quickly changed the subject.
"Willas, don't you ever get tired of sitting in that chair all day? Aren't you worried about, well, discomfort?"
Willas chuckled. "Standing isn't nearly as comfortable as sitting."
Renly's hands glowed briefly with magic, and suddenly, Willas's wheelchair began to spin in place. Startled, Willas leapt out of the chair.
"Not again! Fine, let's settle this with our fists!"
The Tyrells' younger generation, along with Renly and Wright, were all close in age and had developed a friendly, playful rivalry over the years. Their frequent correspondence had laid the foundation for camaraderie, and their youthful energy often led to good-natured brawls.
Willas, having been injured by Oberyn's horse during a tournament the previous year, had spent some time confined to a wheelchair. Though Renly had healed him with magic, Willas insisted on using the chair, explaining that it evoked mixed reactions: sadness in some and joy in others. "The higher they jump in excitement," he had once said, "the harder they hit their heads."
As the playful chaos unfolded, Nymeria leaned close to Wright, her voice low and teasing.
"That little girl has a crush on you."
Wright knew exactly who she meant. "The entire realm knows about our engagement. Once she grows up and marries, she won't think of me anymore."