Chapter 111: Growing Strong
Highgarden, on the terrace garden.
"The Lord of the North?"
Lady Olenna murmured as if to herself, setting the letter on the tea table beside her.
Though more than a decade had passed, the events involving King Robert and Lord Eddard were still fresh in her memory.
Lord Mace Tyrell, noticing his mother's silence, casually asked, "Mother, what is it?"
Seeing her oafish son, Lady Olenna could barely suppress her irritation.
Anyone with a shred of sense should realize the situation was not simple.
Although Lord Mace was trying to hide it, she knew full well he was already lost in the joy of becoming Hand of the King.
"Fortunately, Mace was born into House Tyrell. If he had been born into... never mind. He's already crawled out of my womb and can't be stuffed back in. This pointless speculation only adds to my vexation and is utterly useless."
Margaery, seeing her grandmother sitting there fuming silently, took the initiative to explain, "Father, among the candidates for Hand of the King, besides Lord Renly and Lord Stannis as we anticipated, there is now an unexpected addition: Lord Eddard of Winterfell."
"How can that be?" Lord Mace exclaimed in surprise.
But after a moment's thought, he relaxed, waving his hand grandly. "Margaery, don't worry," he said, comforting her. "The Northmen don't know how to govern the kingdom, and they don't easily come south of the Neck. Besides, no one will want a Northman to serve as Hand of the King..."
The more Lord Mace spoke, the more he felt he was right, and a smug look began to spread across his face.
Feeling his mother's intense gaze, the rambling Lord Mace looked over in confusion.
He was all too familiar with that look in Lady Olenna's eyes; she was looking at an idiot.
Recently, Lord Mace had been showing off before the nobles of the Reach with his theory of winning wars by not fighting, which had inadvertently gone to his head.
Lord Mace could not resist showing off a bit before his mother, hoping to prove that his wisdom was, in fact, misunderstood.
Although he did not know what was wrong with his words, Lord Mace still chose to trust his mother.
Such matters did not require his particular military talents; it was better to listen more.
As Lord Mace fell silent, he also wiped the smugness from his face and looked at his mother with an expression of great humility.
Lady Olenna watched the change in her son's expression, took a deep breath, and paused for a moment before speaking. "Use that big brain of yours for a moment. If it's so impossible, then why did his name suddenly appear on the shortlist for the Hand?"
Lord Mace was stunned, his mouth hanging open. *Right, why?*
Lord Mace trusted his mother's wisdom implicitly. He suppressed the joy in his heart and furrowed his brow.
The close relationship between King Robert and Lord Eddard... the King?
At that thought, Lord Mace suddenly felt a pang of panic. Could this be King Robert's intention?
Lord Mace forced himself to remain calm and looked at his mother's serene face.
He forced a smile. "Mother, what are your thoughts?"
Lady Olenna secretly rolled her eyes. Her foolish son's only virtue was knowing when to borrow the wisdom of others.
"No one can stop the Golden Rose from blooming in King's Landing."
Lady Olenna had always been the backbone of House Tyrell. Hearing her words, Lord Mace immediately stopped panicking.
Lady Olenna looked at Margaery beside her, her expression softening with affection. "Margaery, tell me again about your agreement with that young man."
Lord Mace stroked his beard, proud of his daughter. His mother's attitude toward Margaery spoke volumes.
Mere obedience would never earn her grandmother's special regard; Margaery's cleverness, which she often displayed, was worthy of Lady Olenna's esteem.
Margaery glanced at her gratified father, a faint smile touching her eyes.
Margaery's voice was calm and gentle. "Grandmother, Lord Glyn informed us that Lord Renly and Lord Stannis will also compete for the position of Hand of the King. Lord Glyn promised that they would resolve this issue on their end."
Although this was the second time Margaery had recounted this to Lady Olenna, she still spoke with great seriousness.
Her grandmother was not growing forgetful with age; she was using real situations to instruct her.
After listening, Lady Olenna was silent for a moment, then tapped the armrest of her chair. "What a cunning little fox. King Robert isn't a fool. Whether Stannis or Renly becomes Hand of the King, the one with the resulting headache will be Robert himself.
"Renly is all surface glitter, and Stannis is stubborn. The King knows his own brothers best. If either of them becomes Hand, can he continue to enjoy his leisure without worrying about the affairs of the state?"
*Surface glitter?* This was the first time Margaery had heard such an assessment from her grandmother, who had always seemed to greatly admire Lord Renly in public. Margaery's pupils contracted slightly. *Grandmother is doing this deliberately!*
Margaery's fawn-like, tea-colored eyes looked toward her grandmother.
Lady Olenna understood the meaning in Margaery's gaze and gave a slight, serene nod, confirming her granddaughter's guess.
Margaery was not surprised; she only felt that her grandmother had just taught her another important lesson.
...
Lord Mace could not hold back any longer. "Then... what should we do now?"
Lady Olenna scoffed, "Don't you wish that little lordling was your own son? Why not ask him?"
"That's not it at all. I just happen to appreciate the young man..."
Lord Mace first explained with a chuckle, then continued, "I just remembered. Glyn and I discussed this possibility in private. He did offer some suggestions, but I can't think of how to solve it at the moment."
Margaery glanced at her grandmother and asked, "Father, what did he say at the time?"
Mace thought for a moment before replying, "Glyn's suggestion was that if a competitor other than the Baratheon brothers appeared, we should find a way to make that person withdraw voluntarily. That was the gist of it."
Lady Olenna sneered, her tone laced with sarcasm. "As expected, so thorough, yet so useless! He certainly has a knack for becoming a queen's favorite. This young man reminds me of some old fools. Every time you asked them for advice, they would give a long, rambling speech.
"Back then, I was still young and wholeheartedly assisting my husband. I also respected those old fools a great deal, but later I discovered I was doing all the actual work while they simply took the credit. It seemed comprehensive, but thinking about it, it was all useless nonsense. To learn such a skill at his age... I suppose that's a talent of a sort. The savage Crackclaw Point has indeed produced a strange one."
Lord Mace felt his mother had misunderstood Glyn. He found Glyn to be very pragmatic; whenever it concerned his affairs, Glyn was always more proactive than he was.
Lord Mace chuckled and stroked his beard. He didn't feel the need to explain. Being scolded by the Queen of Thorns was a good thing, a great honor even. He himself had grown strong under her prodding.
Margaery noted her father's expression and raised an eyebrow.
"Grandmother, the Hand, Lord Jon Arryn's health shows no sign of improving. I think we must depart as soon as possible."
Lady Olenna cast a sideways glance at her foolish son, then nodded. "Margaery, I will go with you."
...
...
A fortnight later, just as the convoy of House Tyrell entered King's Landing, they heard the news of the sudden death of the Hand of the King, Jon Arryn.
(end of chapter)