The banquet celebrating the king's coronation was naturally held in the Queen Mother's ballroom at Maegors Holdfast, which could accommodate a hundred people. This was also the place where Jon had fought over the battering ram to smash people that day.
The Empress Dowager's ballroom could accommodate not just one hundred people, but one hundred people dancing at once.
The ballroom was filled with men and women chatting amongst themselves, all dressed in gorgeous robes and long skirts, speaking in hushed tones.
The floor beneath their feet was polished to a shine, so bright that it could even reflect their shadows, but the long skirts of the noblewomen and girls covered their feet, so they couldn't expect to see anything.
The flags hanging around had long been replaced.
The Fiery Stag flag in the very center is noticeably larger, followed by the flags of the other families. Closest to the Fiery Stag flag are Tyrell's green flag with gold flowers and Jon's black flag with white wolves.
The former represents winning someone over, while the latter is a gesture of favor.
House Florent was in a bit of a predicament, as one of the two seats on either side should have been theirs.
The maids and servants around were like clouds drifting in the wind, summoned and dismissed by people, yet they were also everywhere.
The musicians' singing and the sound of their harps lingered in the ears of the nobles.
However, these people are all supporting characters; the real protagonist has not yet appeared. As the servants at the door loudly announced his name, Stannis, who had just put on the crown, finally appeared.
"King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms and the Whole Territory, Stannis Baratheon I has arrived—"
Everyone stepped aside, and Stannis had Alerie take his arm as they entered the ballroom.
" Lord of Highgarden, Duke Mace Tyrell, Warden of the South, and Queen Selyse Baratheon have arrived."
Mace followed closely behind, the Queen supporting his arm, but Mace's expression was not very pleasant; his wife was far more beautiful than Stannis's.
Alerie comes from House Hightower, and House Hightower was married to the daughter of the Dragon King. Alerie's silver-gold hair is the best proof of this.
In other words, House Tyrell now also has Targaryen blood flowing through their veins.
Finally, the servants called out the last name worth announcing: " Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West, Jon Stark has arrived—"
—"
Everyone looked towards the entrance, eager to see how this duke without a fiefdom would make his entrance.
Mace, walking ahead, smirked with triumph. He had left Jon with a small problem that, if not handled properly, would become a laughingstock among the nobles. Perhaps he could use this as an excuse to show Stannis that this bastard was not good enough for his daughter.
The little trouble Mace left behind was Liya.
According to etiquette, she should also take Jon's arm as they enter the hall, but Mace's order was to embarrass Jon, and for Lia to deliberately not take Jon's arm.
Lydia was Tyrell from the moment she was born. Although she usually served as Margaery's companion and maid, she still considered herself superior to Jon.
Furthermore, Lydia was unwilling to submit to a bastard, so she resolutely carried out Mace's orders.
Jon saw that she looked like a statue, or a hedgehog struggling to pop out its quills, radiating resistance from head to toe.
Liya spoke in a cold and distant tone: " Let's go, Your Grace. I am not used to taking the arm of someone whose background is unknown. It is not in accordance with the etiquette of the Seven Kingdoms. In addition, I am not feeling well. Please forgive me."
Lia's voice was calm and even, but it reached the ears of the people closest to her clearly, such as Olena and Margaery standing behind them.
The grandfather and grandson exchanged a glance, both wondering how Jon would defuse this awkward situation. Reason with him? Make a request? Or perhaps— leave in the lurch? Any of these would give Mace an excuse to cause trouble.
"Jon, what will you do?" Margaery couldn't help but think of Dao. If he couldn't handle the situation effectively, Jon, who was already in the eye of the storm and caught in the political vortex, might very well rise and fall in the future.
In the blink of an eye, Jon was starting to become the center of attention, because as one of only two dukes, he hadn't appeared immediately, and the people inside were beginning to look around.
Jon knew Dao was extremely pressed for time. Mace, true to his aristocratic background, had a knack for manipulating people in this situation.
Jon turned his head slightly to look at Liya. She was pretty and had a head of thick, well-groomed brown hair, but her lips were tightly pursed, as if she were wearing a mask that kept strangers away.
"Ridiculous." Jon thought disdainfully to Dao; he had completely given up on marrying Liya.
Spending your whole life with a woman who only gives you the cold shoulder is too high a price to pay.
Moreover, it is also a huge hidden danger. If she regards marrying him as a sacrifice from the beginning, no matter how much he pours his heart out in the future, he will not be able to balance her self-perceived tragedy and grievances.
She might even betray you, and perhaps she would betray you with a clear conscience.
Even without Highgarden's support, he was confident he could take over the West, it would just take a little longer and be a little more troublesome, it would just mean fighting a few more battles.
If you've worked so hard to become a duke and still have to put up with a maid's attitude, you might as well go back to the Great Wall.
"Okay, I understand." Jon said, and Olenna and Margaery heard him clearly. They both instinctively slowed their breathing, thinking, "Is this difficult?" Is Jon giving up?
The next second, none of the expected reactions—reprimands, pleas, or stalemates—occurred.
His movements were lightning fast, but not an attack. With a bend of his left arm, like a steel gate closing, he precisely and firmly "clamped" Liya's slender right arm, which she was trying to hide, between his own arm and her side chest.
The movements were clean and swift, as if catching a new recruit who was about to fall on the battlefield, or picking up a vital military flag.
"!?"
The girl froze completely, her panicked eyes filled with disbelief and bewilderment. She tried to struggle, but her feeble strength was like an ant trying to shake a tree.
Jon could feel the stiffness and slight trembling in her arms, as well as the fear in her eyes.
"If you could talk to the nobles who once fought alongside me, you would know that praying on the battlefield will not save you from the gods, but Jon will. Since you are not feeling well, you might as well come closer to me and I will support you."
"you!"
Liya was about to say something like "Let me go" when she was already being "held hostage" and dragged into the bright and bustling hall.
She felt like she was being moved into the dance hall, like cargo without her control.
Once in everyone's sight, Liya was unable to put up any strong resistance. All she could do was remain stiff in that position, her face drained of color and then flushed red with shame and anger.
Olenna and Margaery's gaze shifted from expectant mockery to astonishment and surprise.
"This young man—" Olenna smiled and followed after him with Margaery's help.
She thought Jon would reason with Liya, but instead, Jon pulled her into the Domain, which was what he was best at.
The methods were simple, even somewhat crude, but extremely effective.
Because of the Golden Finger, Jon was able to sense the emotional changes in Olena and Margaery behind him.
However, he remained focused and composed, even taking the time to nod to Martin and Sandor.
He could feel the almost tangible shame and despair of the girl beside him, but what did that have to do with him?
He defended his dignity in the most direct way, shattering the farce. As for the girl's pitiful self-esteem?
It's already a miracle that a brainless person could escape unscathed, especially since she didn't lose anything.
At this moment, Lia seemed unwilling to give up. Coupled with the fact that everyone was moving slowly, she quickly steadied herself, took a deep breath, and tried to maintain her shaky arrogance. Her voice was deliberately lowered and sharp: "Your Grace, your strength is indeed great, but you now call yourself the Lord of Casterly Rock. Can you mobilize even a single gold coin and a Soldier from Casterly Rock?"
Do the commoners of the Westerlands know when they acquired a new guardian? I advise you to have King Your Majesty reclaim this ridiculous title. It won't be long before the Iron Throne reaches an agreement with Casterly Rock; Tywin will only need to pay a fine, and Lannister will remain the master of Casterly Rock.
Lydia's words earned Jon's respect; as expected of the daughter of a noble family, she had quite a bit of insight.
Of course, it's also possible that she overheard it.
But that still wasn't enough to pique Jon's interest in responding to her.
"Shut up! Your father is just a collateral branch of the family. At most, you'll marry an earl, and your husband will have to bow respectfully to me and address me as a duke."
Jon's words clearly reached her ears, making Liya both anxious and flustered, her face changing color from pale to flushed.
As they approached the dinner table, Jon decided to deliver the final blow. He continued speaking to Dao in a voice only the two of them could hear: "If you make me happy, then I will marry you, and our child will be a duke in the future. Margaery is already fifteen years old, and there are no suitable marriage partners at the duke level. At most, she will marry the son of an earl. If you and she both have daughters in the future, then her daughter will become your daughter's companion. Now you have closed that door with your own hands."
After saying that, Jon released Lydia's hand, which had become numb from being squeezed, and sat down in his seat at the very front.
Liya felt the lingering warmth on her hands and only realized what was happening after Margaery reminded her.
In the end, all I could do was angrily mutter to myself, "Who cares?"
However, Jon had already put her out of his mind; now he had to deal with Mace.
Before he even started speaking, Liya had already caused him trouble. He'll probably have to take matters into his own hands next. Who knows what tricks Dao will pull?
Moreover, there's the Queen of Thorns, the most brilliant strategist in House Tyrell. Jon knows that if Dao wants to marry Margaery, he'll have to be on his guard.