The heavy doors of the solar closed behind the Tyrell delegation with a deep, echoing boom.
Silence settled over the chamber. No guards remained inside. No servants waited with wine.
Prince Damon Targaryen had dismissed them all. Only three people occupied the room.
Damon.
Lord Mace Tyrell.
Lady Olenna Tyrell.
Sunlight poured through the tall windows overlooking Blackwater Bay, bathing the chamber in warm gold. Between them stood a carved table bearing maps of Westeros, ledgers, reports, and several stacks of unopened correspondence.
Damon did not sit behind the desk.
Instead, he stood beside the maps.
Waiting, studying their every move.
For several heartbeats, no one spoke.
It was Lady Olenna who finally broke the silence.
"I must admit," she said, looking around the chamber, "I expected rather more ceremony."
Damon smiled faintly.
"Ceremony wastes time."
"Does it?"
"It does when three intelligent people have matters worth discussing."
Olenna's eyes sharpened.
He had complimented her before the conversation had even begun.
Not excessively.
Not insincerely.
Just enough to establish respect.
She approved, though she didn't completely agree, especially as she turned and saw the idiotic broad smile on Mace's face.
"I've always said business should come before feasting."
Lady Olenna gave her son a sideways glance.
"You've never once said that."
"I've thought it."
"Then dear, let's continue to keep your thoughts to yourself."
Damon almost laughed.
Almost.
Instead, he gestured toward the chairs.
"Please."
The Tyrells stepped closer as all three sat down.
For several moments no one spoke.
Then Damon broke the silence.
"The Reach remained loyal."
"It did."
Mace nodded proudly.
"My banners answered the Crown."
"They did more than answer."
Damon folded his hands.
"You trapped Robert's younger brother inside Storm's End."
"You denied the rebels one of their greatest strongholds."
"You maintained discipline despite nearly a year of inactivity."
"And..."
His violet eyes shifted toward Lady Olenna.
"You resisted every suggestion to stay out of the conflict altogether."
Olenna smiled faintly.
"So..."
"You know whose suggestion that was."
"I know many things."
His answer revealed nothing.
Mace chuckled.
"My mother has never lacked opinions."
"Opinions are valuable."
Damon replied.
"So long as they're intelligent."
A brief silence followed.
Then Damon continued.
"Many men confuse loyalty with usefulness."
"I do not."
"The Reach remained loyal not because it loved or respected my father."
"No."
"It remained loyal because breaking oaths creates chaos, or maybe because it was House Targaryen that raised you to your current station."
Olenna slowly nodded.
Correct.
She leaned back.
"You've spent considerable time studying the Reach."
"I've spent considerable time studying every kingdom."
Damon answered.
"The Reach possesses the largest population."
"The greatest harvests."
"The strongest economy after the Westerlands."
"It feeds a large part of the realm."
He looked directly at Mace.
"A kingdom that controls food controls stability."
"I understand the dependence the realm has on the Reach."
"The Iron Islands cannot eat iron."
"Casterly Rock cannot eat gold."
"But everyone eats grain."
Mace blinked.
He hadn't expected that.
Most kings looked at soldiers first.
This prince looked at grain.
Already different.
Silence followed.
Olenna finally smiled.
"Perhaps you aren't entirely disappointing."
"A compliment?"
"A very small one."
"I'll treasure it."
She almost laughed.
"You've already exceeded my expectations."
She was impressed.
The conversation had barely begun, yet Damon had already made Mace feel respected while simultaneously demonstrating a superior understanding of the Reach itself.
"The rebellion is finished."
"It is."
"But victory alone changes nothing."
"The realm remains wounded."
He looked toward the great window overlooking King's Landing.
"Thousands are dead."
"The treasury is strained."
"Entire regions require rebuilding."
"Trust between great houses has been shattered."
His gaze returned.
"I intend to repair all of it."
Mace nodded enthusiastically.
"The Reach will gladly assist."
"I know."
Lady Olenna looked at her son offering their help without knowing what it would entail and wanted to slap him.
"The harvest this year should be excellent."
Mace blinked again.
"How...."
"The spring rains arrived precisely when needed."
Damon interrupted calmly.
"Your grain yields should increase nearly twelve percent over last year."
Even Olenna's eyebrows rose.
He knows harvest estimates?
From King's Landing?
Damon continued.
"I'll require grain."
"Large quantities."
"The Crown will purchase them at fair prices."
Another deliberate choice.
Mace smiled broadly.
"Naturally."
"The Reach would be honored."
Olenna listened and watched Damon's every sentence and gesture. He was measured in everything he said and did. She had spent decades dismantling men with conversation. Finding weaknesses from vanity, greed, insecurity, and ambition. Everyone possessed something. Everyone, except...She hadn't found his. Not yet.
"So."
She spoke suddenly.
"You seem remarkably informed for someone your age."
Damon met her eyes.
"I read."
She smiled.
"Books alone don't teach this much."
"No."
"They don't."
"Then who taught you?"
He took another sip of wine.
"Experience."
She laughed softly.
"Experience?"
"You're barely a man."
"Yet somehow..."
"You speak like a man twice your age."
Damon smiled.
"I've always preferred listening over speaking."
"When people believe they're smarter than you, they rarely notice how much they're revealing about themselves."
Olenna's smile widened.
This prince was clever.
"So you've been studying everyone."
"I have."
"And what have you learned about me?"
The room became quieter.
Even Mace looked interested.
Damon didn't answer immediately, as he wondered whether to tell the truth, but quickly had his answer.
"You prefer uncomfortable truths over comforting lies."
"You deliberately cultivate the image of an elderly woman whose tongue runs faster than her thoughts."
Olenna's eyes narrowed slightly.
"In reality..."
"You calculate almost every sentence before speaking."
"You enjoy provoking emotional reactions because emotional people reveal information."
"You love your family."
"But you trust very few of them."
Silence.
Lady Olenna simply continued watching Damon.
After several seconds, she laughed. A genuine laugh.
"My..."
"How thoroughly you've studied me. Was it in this meeting alone, or have you been gathering information for years?"
"I investigate everyone."
For the first time in years...
Someone had read her nearly perfectly, and she couldn't get a read on him; she didn't like it at all.
Damon leaned forward slightly.
"Which brings me to another matter."
Damon continued.
"The Small Council. It remains incomplete; I require capable and loyal individuals."
He turned toward Lady Olenna.
"My lady."
"I would like you to serve as Master of Laws."
Silence.
Mace froze. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again.
"...What?"
Olenna herself remained unusually still.
She had expected many things.
Marriage discussions, trade negotiations, perhaps an alliance. Not this.
"A woman."
Mace finally managed.
"On the Small Council?"
Damon looked genuinely puzzled.
"Yes."
Mace blinked again.
"But no woman has ever served as Master of Laws."
"I know."
Damon's expression remained perfectly calm.
"I fail to see why that matters."
"Tradition is useful."
He answered.
"Until it becomes an obstacle."
"I appoint competence."
"Not convention."
The words echoed softly through the chamber.
"If the best blacksmith in Westeros happened to be a woman..."
"I would hire her."
"If the greatest commander happened to be lowborn..."
"I would knight him."
"If the finest legal mind in the realm happens to be Lady Olenna Tyrell..."
"Then why would I deliberately choose someone worse?"
Mace opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
Nothing emerged.
Olenna, however...
Tested him.
"Suppose the great lords object."
"Oh, I'm sure they will."
"Suppose they refuse to cooperate."
"They won't."
"You sound certain."
"I am."
"Why?"
Damon smiled faintly.
"They've seen dragons, and they don't know what kind of King I will be. I doubt they would be willing to object strongly and pick this hill to die on."
Another silence followed.
Simple and logical.
Impossible to argue.
Olenna leaned back.
"So..."
"I would advise the king."
"You would."
"And if I disagreed with you?"
"I expect you will."
"And?"
"I'll either change my mind..."
"Or explain why I haven't."
She studied him.
"You truly intend to hear disagreement?"
"I have no use for advisors who merely repeat my opinions. I already know what I think; I need people willing to bring their own thoughts, after all, I can't think of everything."
His expression hardened slightly.
"My father surrounded himself with frightened men."
"I have no intention of repeating his mistake."
A council willing to disagree produced better decisions. Assuming the king knew when not to listen.
Olenna finally smiled.
"I haven't accepted."
"I know."
"You assumed I would?"
"I assumed you'd think carefully."
"And if I refuse?"
"I'll go to my second option."
"I'll consider your offer."
She laughed softly.
"I almost like you."
"High praise."
"Don't become accustomed to it."
"I'll treasure the memory."
Mace looked between them in utter confusion.
They sounded less like monarch and subject...
And more like two experienced players quietly evaluating each other across a cyvasse board.
The meeting continued for another hour.
They discussed taxation.
Rebuilding villages destroyed during the rebellion.
Repairing the kingsroad.
Expanding trade through Oldtown.
Piracy in the Stepstones.
The growing uncertainty surrounding the Iron Islands.
At several points Olenna deliberately suggested flawed solutions.
Not because she believed them.
Because she wanted to see whether Damon noticed.
He did.
By the time the conversation ended...
She had learned something unsettling.
The prince genuinely listened.
But he almost always reached conclusions three or four steps ahead.
Eventually Damon stood.
"I've taken enough of your time."
Olenna smiled.
"No."
"You've taken our assumptions."
He inclined his head.
"I hope I've replaced them with better ones."
"You've certainly replaced them."
Mace finally laughed.
"I believe that's progress."
Damon escorted them personally to the door.
"I look forward to speaking again."
"As do I."
Olenna answered truthfully.
The doors closed behind them.