"That may be so, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity," Lord Mace said. "It's not just me who's dissatisfied; Lord Rowan and Lord Redwyne feel the same. We in The Reach have many soldiers and commanders, such formidable strength, yet Robert wouldn't let us into the Small Council. This shows a disdain for The Reach."
"Perhaps I think you should listen to the children's advice; their minds are better than yours," The Queen of Thorns said, inviting Willas and Garlan to speak. Loras was not present, still at Storms End.
"I have a premonition that House Baratheon will fight among themselves first: Renly, Stannis, and Gendry. Originally, Renly had the advantage; the Stormlands plus our men from The Reach would be unbeatable. But now there's the king's will, and if the Lords of the Stormlands are half-hearted, Lord Renly might not succeed, as the Stormlands population is not large to begin with..." Ser Garlan began.
Garlan resembled his younger brother, Ser Loras Tyrell, but he was taller, stronger, and wore a beard. His personal sigil was two golden Roses on a green field, signifying his status as a second son.
"War is war," Margaery said, listening to them. The House Tyrell girl wore a cloak woven from autumn flowers, which fluttered in the wind, revealing a green dress beneath, making her look exceptionally charming. She was young, with brown hair, brown eyes, slender, and beautiful.
"Would they abandon Renly for a bastard?" Mace frowned. "He's just a young man, originally a blacksmith, and a bastard at that."
"That The Boy Blacksmith has won more battles in a few short years than you, the lord of highgarden, have in your long twenty-year military career," The Queen of Thorns couldn't help but sting her son.
"What of it? I..." Lord Mace's face flushed.
"He is indeed a young man, but that Child has been winning battles, and his men will continue to adore him. Do you think the people of the Stormlands don't see that Renly is a useless fop, they just didn't have a choice before? Renly is regal, charming, and bathes cleanly. He knows how to dress, how to smile, how to bathe, and from that concludes he should be king! But what about now? Eddard and Barristan, though old-fashioned, have integrity that many will respect," The Queen of Thorns said.
"Garlan, you've met him before," The Queen of Thorns asked her grandson.
"Their strength was already formidable then, and now it will be even more terrifying. Khal Drogo, the most ferocious Khal of the Dothraki Sea, was no match for him. This The Boy Blacksmith is extraordinary. Brave like the mad storm, and with a meticulous mind unlike his age," Garlan said. "If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe a The Boy Blacksmith could possess such abilities. Perhaps it's innate."
"I've also studied his tactics," Willas nodded and said. "It's the common hammer and anvil tactic, but his grasp of timing is exquisite." Willas was a handsome The Reach gentleman, but unfortunately, he had a limp.
"So we just wait like this?" Mace asked.
"Stannis will never cooperate with House Tyrell; their enmity is as deep as the sea. There's no place for us beside Joffrey," Willas analyzed. "I originally thought Renly could work, but if someone jumps out to divide the Stormlands' power, then Renly will also be in peril."
"If that's the case, then we shouldn't rush. If Loras needs troops, just give him a little support," Willas nodded. "Once they decide the victor, whoever it is will throw us a Rose."
"But Renly promised us a queen," Mace said eagerly.
"Shut up, this is rebellion, and now even more dangerous rebellion. Robert has many sons now, and Renly has an older brother. Why does Renly demand that ugly iron throne? Will his ill-tempered brother and violent nephew let it go?
Loras is good at knocking people off horses with a stick, but that sport doesn't make him smart. As for you, sometimes I wish I were a country farm wife, so I could hit you with a big wooden spoon and knock some sense into your fat head."
"In any case, we need to act with careful consideration; contesting the iron throne is not a Longspear tourney," The Queen of Thorns said. "House Stark, House Arryn, and House Lannister have all been kings for generations. Even House Baratheon, if counted through the maternal line, is an ancient royal family. Only House Tyrell was merely stewards before King Aegon The Conqueror burned the legitimate The Reach King in the 'Field of Fire.' That's why we must be wary of those lurking in the shadows, just as the annoying House Florent often laments: our family's claim to The Reach is indeed a bit shaky."
"Yes," Lord Mace could only follow his mother's advice.
"Garlan, how do you think Robert's blacksmith son will act?" The Queen of Thorns asked. "This time he's not defending a castle, but attacking."
"He will build a fortress, wear down the enemy with strong defenses, and wait for them to fall into a trap before annihilating their mobile forces in one fell swoop. However, where to choose this fortress is the question."
"It seems Lord Tywin won't be sleeping well now," The Queen of Thorns snorted. "He's offended so many people."
"New intelligence from the Riverlands has arrived," a House Tyrell maester walked into the garden.
"Oh, one joy, one sorrow," The Queen of Thorns said after reading the letter. "Kingslayer broke out of Gold Tooth, Edmure's subordinates were routed, and now Kingslayer is besieging Riverrun. However, their family's mad dog wasn't so lucky; Ser Gregor was defeated at Bitch's Pool, and his body is gone."
"Ser Gregor is dead?" Garlan was startled. "On the battlefield, Ser Gregor is very difficult to match. That small detachment of Lord Eddard's actually managed to kill Ser Gregor? Lord Bery's force, at most Thoros has some skill, but the others are just mediocre, and Lord Bery is just a young lord." In fact, Garlan also had considerable combat prowess and high standards. Garlan was skilled with a sword, often practicing with three or four people to simulate real combat situations and prepare himself in advance. But he had little interest in gaining honor, so his fame was not as great as Loras'.
"That's the truth, Garlan," The Queen of Thorns smiled. "That mad dog is dead; I don't know how many people will be drinking fine wine tonight. Tywin had Ser Gregor ambush Lord Bery's force, but Lord Bery actually had reinforcements, and this black-armored army almost completely wiped out Ser Gregor's unit."
"Black-armored army?" Garlan listened carefully. "Could it be?"
"Looking at the situation near King's Landing, with no troops to spare, and the Riverlands struggling, could it be Edmure?" Lord Mace pondered.
"Oh, please, Edmure is an idiot, utterly defeated by Kingslayer," The Queen of Thorns said disdainfully.
"If it's the King Across the Narrow Sea, then he's too fast," Garlan thought.
"No matter what, the situation is full of twists and turns. You'd best make an envoy to Myr."
"I'll go," Garlan said.
"I want to go too," Margaery said.
"Alright, good children, both of you go," The Queen of Thorns stroked her granddaughter's hair.
"Alright, you all go and rest now, my Little Rose stays."
"Yes, my lady."
The others left the garden, leaving only Margaery.
"Do you remember the love story I told you, Child?" Margaery's hand was held by her grandmother.
"I do."
"They wanted me to marry someone from House Targaryen, but I wouldn't have it," The Queen of Thorns said. "I wanted to choose the best, not a second son who also liked men."
"Yes, and then Grandmother, you got your chance, and Grandfather fell in love with you."
"Yes, Child. I made him fall in love with me," The Queen of Thorns held her granddaughter's hand. "Fools like your father only wait for opportunities; only the most excellent people create opportunities."
"But others have queens, so what about me?" Margaery hesitated.
"Where there's a will, there's a way, Child," The Queen of Thorns said. "If The Boy Blacksmith can truly build a legacy greater than The Conqueror's, I think many people will choose to keep quiet. Having two queens isn't such an unprecedented thing. Look at the men your father and them picked for you: the first was a drunkard, the second liked men, truly terrible."
"Since you want to be queen, why not choose the best one? The one who will win in the end."
"I understand what you mean, Grandmother. I will observe carefully, observe if he is a king The Reach can pledge allegiance to," Margaery said, smiling at her grandmother.
"Observe him, weigh him, assess his worth. Then make him fall in love with you."
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