The mountain ranges of the Westerlands ran north to south. To the south, they resembled a crouching lion; to the north, a stampeding herd of horses.
Relying on such perilous natural borders, the Westerlands were second only to the Vale in terms of defensibility.
When Loras led the Tyrell army south, numerous scouts from the western mountains watched them.
Fortunately, the mountain range wasn't endless. After four or five days, they marched beyond its reach. In about a week, Loras arrived at Riverrun.
The long march of nearly half a month had left the "Knight of Flowers" smelling sour and rank. His pride and joy, his curly brown hair, was no longer silky smooth, and black-grey grease stains marred his collar.
A ring of brown stubble had sprouted around his mouth. His dashing, youthful air had been completely worn away by the arduous journey.
Seeing the white towers of Riverrun and feeling the abundant moisture from the two rivers, Loras felt an unbearable itch all over his body. He wanted nothing more than to jump into a bathtub and have a good, long soak.
But not long after arriving, he received orders from Jon to take the remaining Tyrell troops and retrace the previous route.
Even though they had a bet, this still infuriated him.
Loras, having barely caught his breath at Riverrun, had to hit the road again. He stared at Robbett Glover, who delivered the order, as if trying to burn a hole in the man's face with his brown eyes.
"I don't believe this stupid plan will work. If Daven actually moves troops out of the Golden Tooth, I'll let my horse ride me!" In the Great Hall of Riverrun, Loras, having hastily changed his clothes, swore this "poisonous oath" in front of Edmure.
"Ser Loras, perhaps Jon has other ideas." It wasn't just Loras who was mocking from the start; others didn't think much of Jon's strategy either, such as Edmure, who liked to claim he had defeated Tywin.
"What ideas could he have? He's never fought a fair battle in his life! 'White Wolf Knight'? If you ask me, he doesn't deserve such a title, and he certainly doesn't deserve my sister!"
"Ah, well, luck is a hard thing to pin down," Edmure said with a half-smile. After all, he was the man who defeated Tywin!
Edmure tried to comfort Loras, or rather, tried to get closer to him.
Now in his twenties and having taken over Riverrun, Edmure was nominally the Lord Paramount of the Trident, but his family's power was significantly diminished compared to before.
First, House Frey had become a ducal house, no longer answering to Riverrun, instantly shrinking the Tully lands by a third.
And Stannis hadn't stopped there. Although no official rewards had been given yet, news from King's Landing suggested that if Jon achieved certain results in the Westerlands and conquered enough territory, Harrenhal would be given to Vargo Hoat, the leader of the Brave Companions.
This would further worsen House Tully's external situation and erode their strength.
In response, Brynden had advised Edmure to befriend the Reach and seek alliances in the south, specifically pointing out that Edmure should get close to Loras.
"No, this guy isn't Eddard Stark's bastard at all!" Loras seemed to have a sudden epiphany and made a shocking declaration.
"What?!" Edmure's eyes widened as he leaned in.
Loras turned to Edmure and said, "This guy isn't Eddard Stark's bastard. I reckon he's the bastard of some god, otherwise he couldn't possibly be this lucky!"
Edmure: "..."
Edmure sighed and said, "We'll know soon enough if he's lucky or not. I've sent him suggestions on attacking the Golden Tooth more than once, but he hasn't replied even once. Maybe he really is confident in his 'strategy'."
"His strategy is absolutely useless!" Loras insisted.
"I heard you have a bet with Jon. I think if you were the commander-in-chief, we would have seen results very quickly," Edmure praised, somewhat insincerely.
However, Loras seemed to accept it. He looked at Edmure and said, "Edmure, although you aren't tall, your martial arts are mediocre, and your archery is terrible, I feel you are much better than Jon."
Edmure's mouth twitched. He wasn't sure if he was being praised, so he didn't know how to respond.
"It's a pity Margaery is already betrothed to Jon. But our family has many beautiful girls. If you don't mind them being from branch families, I can put in a word for you," Loras said earnestly.
"Well, then thank you, Ser Loras." Edmure put Loras's unique way of complimenting people out of his mind.
Even if he ended up marrying a girl from a Tyrell branch family, the wealth of the Tyrells was known to all, especially given the strength they had shown in this war.
That would be a significant boost for him.
The situation in the Seven Kingdoms was now clear. Edmure was the Lord of Riverrun, but he was still unmarried.
Edmure had once fancied a noble lady, but she was seduced by a singer, which infuriated him.
He had ordered all singers and bards expelled from his lands.
But now he needed a wife. For a man in his twenties, Margaery would have been an excellent match.
Unfortunately, due to House Tully's previous wrong choices, neither Stannis nor the Tyrells would choose him for such a match.
Otherwise... Edmure ended his fantasy and personally saw Loras off from Riverrun again.
News that Jon had camped under the Golden Tooth for over half a month without launching an attack naturally reached Highgarden, which was most concerned about the war.
Although Mace had never won a battle, he still didn't think much of Jon's strategy. He even complained to others that Highgarden roses could be planted on mountain peaks like Casterly Rock, but absolutely not in a cursed place like Harrenhal.
He would have to pay to build a castle for Jon later, making him the biggest sucker in the Seven Kingdoms.
---
Margaery wasn't particularly knowledgeable about military matters, but she was concerned about something else—her fiancé's romantic history.
"When Jon first went to the Twins, Old Walder planned to have Jon marry his daughter?" Margaery was clearly surprised by this intelligence.
"Yes, Lady Margaery," said Garth the Gross's bastard, Gyles "Flowers."
As a top family in the Seven Kingdoms, an intelligence network was indispensable. Even if it wasn't as timely and pervasive as Varys's, they could likely find out whatever they wanted to know.
"Though not necessarily a daughter," Willas, who was also vetting Jon for his sister, spoke up. He stroked the head of the hound beside him, which lay docilely by his side.
Since being crippled in a tourney, Willas had turned from martial pursuits to scholarly ones, becoming quite knowledgeable in training hounds, ravens, and horses.
"Back then, Jon had achieved nothing. How could Old Walder marry his daughter to a bast—" Willas stopped halfway, realizing it was inappropriate to say that.
Old Walder hadn't married a daughter to Jon, but the Tyrells had. Didn't that imply the Tyrells had lower standards than the Freys?
But Margaery smiled unconcernedly. "It doesn't matter, Willas. Isn't Jon a Duke now? Besides, knowing Old Walder's character, I bet he regrets his decision immensely. If he had married his prettiest daughter to Jon earlier, we wouldn't be involved in this now, would we?"
"Sigh," Willas sighed, looking at the little sister he had doted on for over a decade. "I'd rather we weren't involved."
"Don't say that, brother," Margaery comforted him. "Jon... he's quite alright."
She recalled Jon's eye contact with her in King's Landing, how he led her to dodge the patrolling guards in the Red Keep, and the words he said to her in the garden. It all left her with endless aftertastes.
So much so that now when she heard songs about knightly princes, she thought of Jon.
Even if Joffrey or Renly came back to life, she wouldn't be interested.
Willas looked at Margaery and his expression suddenly changed. "Oh? I wasn't talking about Jon. I meant if Stannis hadn't won, we wouldn't need to do these things."
"Huh?" Margaery realized she had subconsciously defended Jon, and her big brother had noticed. She felt a bit shy.
Jokes aside, it was time for business. Willas's face turned serious. "Actually, House Tyrell doesn't wish to see Jon fixated on Casterly Rock. His army's logistics rely entirely on Highgarden. We can support him for a year or two, but not endlessly. Like this hound—if you always keep it fed, it forgets who the master is. I hear dogs were domesticated from wolves. Stannis wants to use Jon, this direwolf, to deter us Tyrells. Perhaps we can domesticate him into a watchdog for our house."
Margaery looked at her brother's serious face and cleared her mind.
What's wrong with me? The marriage to Jon was forced by circumstances. Unless dragons return, Casterly Rock is impregnable. Why am I starting to speak for him?
Margaery thought to herself, realizing Willas's words were a reminder to her. But...
"For people like you and me... I believe mutual elevation is the most important thing." She remembered what Jon had said to her in the garden that day.
Standing side by side with him on the ramparts, looking down at the lights of King's Landing and the Blackwater Rush flowing east, it felt as if the world lay at their feet...
Finally, Margaery calmed herself. Although she understood what was best for her family, she still hoped Jon could conquer the Golden Tooth and Casterly Rock.
Because that was their promise of mutual elevation.