Margaery felt the firmness in William's gaze, his eyes filled with intense confidence.
She was somewhat puzzled, not understanding where his conviction came from. "Is this some kind of prophetic magic?"
'Well, it really does resemble prophecy.'
After a moment's thought, William decided not to deceive the Little Rose about matters of magic. "It's a prediction. Lord Renly's actions are a very clear signal, aren't they? He wants to light a fire, but he may not have the ability to control the blaze."
Seeing Margaery withdraw her hand to cover a light laugh, William quickly added, "Willas agrees with this assessment."
Margaery shook her head, seeming a little helpless. "But it's still a far cry from the situation you described."
William couldn't help but scratch his head. She was right. Even with the conspiracy duo of Varys and Littlefinger working behind the scenes, the outbreak of the War of the Five Kings still involved a great deal of chance. If handled well, everything could have remained confined to court intrigue. So, from this point in time, aside from prophecy, there was truly no way to definitively state that a war sweeping across Westeros would erupt two years later.
Seeing William's awkward, uncertain expression, Margaery's eyes softened. "William, everyone has their own duties and responsibilities. I'm truly glad to have met you. If I weren't the daughter of the Lord of Highgarden, perhaps I really would go with you, even to the farthest ends of the world."
William tightly grasped her hand, looking at her persistently. "Then, how about we make a bet? If what I say truly becomes reality, you will come with me. We'll go together, across the Narrow Sea."
Margaery gazed at him for a long time, her eyes flickering with profound melancholy and loneliness, then she smiled radiantly.
Early the next morning, outside Highgarden, beside the tournament grounds, a massive crowd gathered once again. The atmosphere was boisterous, filled with the sounds of joyous people and neighing horses.
Knights in shining armor, riding tall warhorses, paraded in a line past the stands. Behind them were squires or servants holding their banners, while enthusiastic spectators lined the sides.
When the golden banner with the bat of House Whent appeared, the arena erupted with a tsunami of cheers. After all, William had spent the last two years fighting his way through the southern Reach, and the battle at Bitterbridge had earned him great popularity in the central regions as well. Even the handsome Renly and the beautiful Knight of Flowers, though also welcomed by the crowd, paled in comparison to him.
In the stands, whether intentionally to irritate Lord Mace sitting beside him or not, the Red Viper clicked his tongue in admiration. "Truly breathtaking. Anyone who didn't know would certainly think this Magic Knight was a man of the Reach."
Lord Mace, however, ignored him completely, picking his ear as if he hadn't heard a thing.
Seeing Renly also in the parade, William very much hoped to encounter him in the tournament, to let him taste the so-called 'Wrath of Justice.'
Many knights participated in this tournament. The huge prize of forty thousand gold dragons and the chance to showcase their skills before numerous great lords attracted countless contenders. To manage this, Highgarden had arranged two preliminary rounds for initial screening.
Several fields hosted preliminary matches simultaneously. William, as a seeded knight, didn't need to participate in the preliminaries, so he went to watch the other matches.
The Harrenhal master-at-arms felt he had fully recovered and originally wanted to compete, but was finally dissuaded by the maester. Rosso performed steadily, easily qualifying for the main tournament. Erren passed the first preliminary round but made a mistake in the second round and was unfortunately eliminated.
William's first opponent was a hedge knight from the Westerlands named Philip Foote. He was burly, and his single remaining eye was sharp and piercing. His equipment was good, and his horse looked strong and agile. If this gear wasn't funded by his family but won through tourneys, that would be quite impressive.
The match proved that this Ser Philip was indeed a skilled fighter. William jousted four passes with him before finally unseating him with a sudden, unexpected move.
During a break in the tournament, William sought out this hedge knight, hoping to recruit him for House Whent.
But this one-eyed knight was different from Rosso. When Rosso went to Harrenhal, he called himself a hedge knight, but in truth, he had never been formally knighted; he was more of a sellsword. It was only after joining House Whent that Walter formally knighted him, which was why he was quite satisfied with becoming a sworn knight.
The one-eyed knight, however, stated plainly that if he wanted to be a sworn knight, he wouldn't have left home to wander. All these years, he had been seeking an opportunity to become a landed knight.
If sworn knights can be considered employees, then landed knights are like shareholders. Suddenly making a stranger a director is something even a chairman would need to consider the opinions of other directors and even senior employees before doing. William had no authority to make such a decision. Although he greatly admired this highly skilled knight, he could only regretfully give up.
William's second opponent was Ser Vortimer Crane, the master-at-arms of Highgarden. The two had shared drinks and laughter at feasts many times and had a decent relationship. But during the joust, neither held back. The master-at-arms of Highgarden had clearly studied William, fighting with a very targeted strategy. William again had to fight hard for four passes before securing victory.
A pleasant surprise came while watching Rosso's match: his opponent turned out to be Renly. Renly's martial skills seemed quite good, definitely above average. He clashed with Rosso for two passes before being defeated.
The unhorsed Renly wasn't angry. He got up, smiling broadly and waving to the crowd, even specifically seeking out Rosso to exchange a few polite words. His handsome looks and graceful demeanor made him very likable.
Unfortunately, Rosso immediately faced the Knight of Flowers next and was unhorsed by a single strike on the third pass.
This drew admiration from William. Even if Rosso's skill wasn't top-tier, he was certainly among the best in the second rank. The Knight of Flowers made it look effortless; he indeed had the capital to be proud.
When William saw that his third opponent was actually Barristan, he suddenly understood what Lord Mace and Renly had been discussing yesterday. Looking at the Knight of Flowers' smooth path to advancement, and then looking at his own: a highly skilled hedge knight, the master-at-arms of Highgarden, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard... Barring any surprises, his final opponent would definitely be the Knight of Flowers.
Thinking of this, William couldn't help but chuckle wryly. However, compared to the underhanded tactics in the melee, using the host's advantage in this way couldn't really be called despicable or shameless.
The match between the Magic Knight and Barristan, a clash between a new and an old legend, was naturally the center of everyone's attention. The course of the match did not disappoint: a full ten thrilling passes. The performances of both the old and the young were admirable, the spectators watched enthralled, and cheers continued unabated.
On the final pass, Barristan's stamina faltered, allowing William to seize the opportunity for a decisive strike that unseated him.
As the splinters from the shattered lance still flew through the air and the horses hadn't fully stopped, William leapt down, nimbly vaulted over the railing, and rushed towards Barristan, who was pushing himself up into a sitting position. "Are you alright, Ser?"
As he spoke, he offered his hand, supporting Barristan by the arm and helping him to his feet.
"Ha! Don't worry, I'm not so old yet," Barristan replied calmly, moving his arms and legs to show he had suffered no serious injury.
William felt a wave of relief. When facing a knight of such skill, victory demanded his utmost effort. Once he unleashed a full-force strike, the outcome was beyond his control.
Amid roaring cheers and looks of deep respect, the two walked side by side from the lists, clearing the field for the next match.
"I felt that unwavering will to win, William. It is a good thing," Barristan said, clapping him on the shoulder. "But for a knight, chivalry matters even more than victory."
"I understand, ser. A knight can achieve victory, and a sellsword can also achieve victory. But it is chivalry that distinguishes a knight from a mere killer."
Barristan looked at William with approval, his wise eyes filled with expectation and hope.