"This Jon is truly rude!"
"Exactly, all bastards are ill-mannered and just love to spout nonsense."
A group of young ladies, similar in age to Margaery, gathered around her. These were mostly girls from the collateral branches of House Tyrell or House Redwyne.
They were all Margaery's handmaidens, and the girls were all quite beautiful. A cluster of girls together could only be described as a riot of flowers.
But no one dared to harbor any ill thoughts towards them, because not far away were the guards who were constantly protecting these noble young ladies.
Serving people is a skilled job, especially since many times only nobles know how to serve other nobles. Those who could serve nobles were not ordinary village women pulled from the countryside.
For example, Tywin's deceased wife Joanna once served as a handmaiden to Mad King's wife Rhaella for a period. Margaery's handmaidens or companions were also from collateral branches of House Tyrell, or girls from the Redwyne or Hightower families.
At this moment, Margaery and her young companions were discussing Jon, who was currently making waves.
However, Jon's reputation among the noble young ladies was very poor, because he had rudely slandered Margaery and her brothers.
"This Jon didn't just offend me and my brothers."
Margaery nibbled on a pastry but then put it down; it was red bean paste, too sweet, this one was not to her liking. "He is provoking my father, making my father make a mistake."
"Then he still shouldn't say such ungracious words, completely lacking grace." The speaker was Margaery's cousin, Lia Tyrell.
Lia was a girl who loved music and the harp. She was often melancholic and enjoyed playing the tragic stories of knights.
Honor, romance, and even tragedy were what he pursued.
If Jon had gone south to kill Joffrey for his father's revenge, and then been killed himself, perhaps he would have composed a song for Jon. But for now—
She couldn't bring herself to like someone who achieved victory by any means necessary.
Lia's assessment quickly gained the approval of the other young ladies, who all joined in condemning Jon.
"I heard he's even become a lord now."
"The Lord of Harrenhal."
"Then he certainly won't live long, and his Family will soon die out, hmph, he deserves it!"
Watching her companions' denunciations, Margaery's lips curved into a somewhat forced smile, and she again put down the pastry in her hand. The golden candied dates inside were also too sweet; she didn't like them.
Somewhat annoyed, Margaery thought of her two engagements.
The first was Renly, who was assassinated. The second was Joffrey, who was recently killed by Jon.
What about next time? If her next fiancé were to die suddenly again, she would probably go from "widely renowned" to "infamous."
No matter how beautiful she was, or how generous her dowry, who would dare to marry her then?
Of course, being worried about getting married was impossible. It's just that given Margaery's status, there were already few people who could match her, and the choice was inherently narrow.
She could certainly choose those second-tier nobles, but as Margaery, she was unwilling.
When Renly and Joffrey were still alive, her ceiling was to become queen, but now, looking around, there was no suitable person to marry her.
Margaery felt a sense of emptiness and confusion. Looking at her teasing companions, she suddenly said, "I suddenly feel a bit tired. I'm going to sleep first."
"Do you want me to sleep with you?" Alys Tyrell, also a handmaiden, asked.
Handmaiden, companion, bedmate—in short, as a lord's daughter, Margaery would never lack company.
"No need, I'm just going to take a short nap." With that, Margaery left alone. After all, being within Highgarden, what danger could she encounter?
Margaery walked through the garden where butterflies fluttered, watching the passing maids curtsy to her.
However, she didn't have the energy to change her expression. Having just come of age, she suddenly felt a sense of powerlessness against fate.
If Renly didn't work out, and Joffrey didn't either, who would be her ultimate destination?
In a year, at most no more than two years, she would be married. Who would that person be?
Margaery felt a bit annoyed and, without realizing it, arrived at a study. The guard at the door indicated that Olenna and the Highgarden steward were inside, so she wanted to go and see.
As a granddaughter meticulously trained by Olenna, she had the right to attend all Family meetings.
As soon as she got close, she heard angry shouts from inside: "How can Highgarden's rose be planted next to a dog kennel? This Stannis is truly too much!
Without the Dragonstone fleet, he is nothing more than a deer who has lost his antlers. To dare to make such a demand, I think he is a bit deluded." The speaker was a man, Margaery's grand-uncle, Garth.
Garth was older than Mace and also fatter, known as "Garth the Gross." This Uncle Garth seemed to have digestive problems, but he always gave Margaery a very gentle impression. She wondered why he was so angry today.
So she slowed her steps and did not immediately push the door open.
"Stannis indeed doesn't have much of an army to boast of, but he is now the de facto sole king, controlling the Crownlands and the Stormlands. And those Florents have always coveted our lands, and the Dornish to the south are not to be trifled with. Mace's refusal was still too blunt." Margaery recognized this as her grandmother Olenna's voice.
The usually resilient The Queen of Thorns actually showed a hint of fatigue. Mace loved his children, and so did Olenna; he certainly didn't want his granddaughter to marry a bastard.
And the clever Margaery had already guessed what was happening, but she still didn't go in.
"Perhaps we can choose a girl from the collateral branches. Although this Jon is a bastard, Stannis is, after all, going to make him a lord. Besides Margaery, marrying any other girl from House Tyrell would not be a humiliation." This was Willas speaking.
This was indeed a compromise, but Olenna sighed and said, "Do you think Stannis only wants a daughter of House Tyrell? What he wants is our submission in dignity!"
The atmosphere in the room was somewhat oppressive. Willas spoke again, "Then perhaps we can find an assassin?"
Assassin? Assassinate whom? Stannis or Jon Snow?
Margaery felt as if an invisible vortex was pulling at her. At the same time, she was surprised and unexpected; her usually gentle elder brother Willas revealed a rare ruthlessness when faced with such matters.
Finally, she chose to push the door open.
"Ah, Margaery." Willas looked up, seemingly not surprised.
"Sit, my child." Olenna beckoned, and soon someone placed a chair in front of her.
Olenna stroked her granddaughter's smooth, slender hand with her somewhat faded but unwrinkled hand, her eyes filled with both tenderness and determination.
This was a ruthless person who dared to poison Joffrey when she disliked him. Let alone Jon, what was Stannis even worth?
"Grandmother, I want to go to King's Landing."
"What?!"
As Margaery's words fell, Willas, Garth, and Olenna all turned their gaze to her.
"Margaery, House Tyrell has not yet reached the point of kneeling and begging. We will never agree to Stannis's terms!" Willas, who usually made people feel as if they were basking in spring breeze, was now sharp and incisive!
"Yes, Margaery, you still have Garlan and Loras, and so many cousins. Our House Tyrell is ever-flourishing!" Garth said encouragingly.
However, Margaery shook her head and expressed her opinion: "Grandmother, Uncle, Elder Brother, I cannot be so selfish as to let my brothers fight to the death for my sake. Of course, I know they do so for the Family's honor, but I think there must be some other way."
"Margaery, you don't have to worry—" Willas wanted to say more, but Olenna stopped him.
"What method do you have? Why not tell us?"
"I think I can go and see that Jon. What if he is the one to refuse this marriage alliance? This would save the Tyrell's face and avoid bloodshed." Margaery explained to everyone.
Although Jon's military achievements were dazzling, everyone considered him a bastard after all.
bastards generally had very poor treatment in families. Perhaps they could be tempted with wine and gold to make Jon voluntarily give up the marriage alliance.
At that time, not to mention collateral branches, even the daughters of other vassal families of Highgarden would probably be enough to satisfy Jon's appetite.
Margaery's idea enlightened the three. All along, they had viewed Jon and Stannis as a single entity. After Margaery's analysis, everyone realized that they might be able to defeat them one by one.
"As expected of Margaery, she has been the smartest girl in our Family since childhood!" Garth praised, and Willas also smiled as he looked at his younger sister.
Olenna, stroking Margaery's hand, said, "Alright, I think we can try it. If that's the case, then Willas, you go and prepare with your grand-uncle. I will also make a trip to King's Landing then."
"Grandmother, you're going too?"
"Doesn't Stannis want a king's dignity? Give it to him, then. Go."
Willas and Garth left the room, but Margaery remained. She knew her grandmother's habit; as long as she held her hand, it meant there was still something she wanted to say.
Sure enough, as soon as the two left, Olenna leaned closer to Margaery, looked into her bright brown eyes, and said, "Are you feeling a bit wronged?"
"No, Grandmother, what do I have to feel wronged about?" Margaery denied outright, not even a flicker in her eyes.
But Olenna smiled faintly, taking everything in. Having raised her granddaughter from a young age, how could she not know?
"Do you know the story of me and your grandfather, Roose Tyrell?"
Margaery shook her head.
"I was originally supposed to be betrothed to a Targaryen, but I didn't like those madmen. So, one night, I climbed into your grandfather's bed, and the next day, he took my hand and knelt before your great-grandfather." Olenna spoke, a smile blooming at the corners of her wrinkled eyes, as if she had returned to forty or fifty years ago.
Margaery hadn't expected her grandmother, nearly seventy, to tell her these things. It surprised her greatly, even making her feel a bit shy, so much so that a blush crept onto her cheeks.
"I've recently gathered more information about Jon. When Robb first rallied his army, the lords were all provoking him. It was Jon who put himself in the game, making the most difficult Roose Bolton bow his head." Olenna's expression changed as she continued, "Although outsiders are spreading that it was Robb's idea, how could a person who betrays alliances for lust have such a mind?"
"Then, Grandmother, your meaning is—"
"This is very likely Jon's idea!" Olenna very keenly stated the truth of the matter.
"You also know about the Battle of the Green Fork afterwards, but what surprised me the most was his stopping Robb from claiming kingship. Robb had originally planned to transfer him away from the army, not allowing him to command it anymore, but he directly launched a mutiny at Harrenhal, seizing Roose Bolton's military power. Do you think such a person would be content to be subservient to others?"
Listening to Olenna's narration, Margaery's eyes gradually widened.
"So, Grandmother, you—"
"I want to go with you to see what this boy's true colors are like. If he can truly be used by us, I can give anything except you! Of course, if you truly take a liking to him, I'll just have to accept it." Olenna winked at her little granddaughter, "I, how could I—" Margaery was a bit speechless, originally wanting to say how she could possibly take a liking to a bastard.
But recalling Olenna's analysis just now, the qualities displayed by that rising bastard were truly dazzling.
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