After the first courtesies had been exchanged, Arthur led them into the dining hall. A long table of dark oak stood beneath chandeliers wrought in the shape of branching antlers, each bearing dozens of beeswax candles. Fresh rushes scented with lavender had been strewn upon the floor, whilst bowls of white roses and blue winter flowers adorned the table between polished silver candelabra.
Margaery noticed there was no needless display of gold. The wealth of the house lay instead in its craftsmanship. Silver chased with waves in the hall. The crystals from Myr shone softly. Carved chairs of white Ashwood sat around the table. Everything was chosen with care.
Servants moved with quiet efficiency as each guest was shown to a place of honour. Arthur himself remained standing until Lady Olenna had been seated. Only then did he take his own place.
The first course arrived almost at once. There were fresh oysters brought from Blackwater Bay, smoked trout with herbs, buttered crabs, soft white cheeses from the Reach, olives from across the narrow sea, warm honeyed bread and bowls of rich cream.
Then came roasted capons stuffed with apples and chestnuts, pepper-crusted boar, river pike baked in herbs, lamprey pie, buttered carrots glazed with honey, and delicate pastries filled with mushrooms and onions.
The courses seemed endless. Margaery soon realized there was purpose beneath the abundance.
Arthur had not merely ordered a lavish feast. He had studied his guests. She watched her father feast on a great haunch of roasted venison with juniper berries and smile broadly. Loras enjoyed a platter of lemon-roasted quail, one of his favourites. Lady Olenna received a modest serving of white fish, fresh greens and soft bread, exactly suited to her appetite.
Before Margaery herself rested a dish of river trout cooked with almonds and herbs beside tender young asparagus and sweet pears steeped lightly in wine. She blinked in surprise and looked towards Arthur who was speaking quietly with her grandmother farther down the table.
She had mentioned that she enjoyed fresh river fish when they spoke of the Mander. Margaery had mentioned it only once in passing. She did not tell him that these were her favorites. That her father went out every morning on the barges to bring her the freshest fish he could. Only once she spoke of it and he remembered. The realization pleased her more than the meal itself.
Throughout the supper Arthur proved an attentive host, speaking little of himself and much of his guests. He listened patiently as Lord Mace described this year's harvest, and even endured Lady Olenna's dry retorts without once appearing ruffled.
Then he told Loras that he has set aside a rare manuscript that Willas sought for Highgarden's library. Margaery hadn't known that Willas was in communication with Arthur. Apparently, the two exchanged letters often to discuss about the preservation of rare books.
By the time sweet cream, honeycakes and fresh fruit were served, the easy conversation had begun to ebb. Lady Olenna dabbed her lips with a linen cloth, set it neatly beside her plate, and folded her hands upon the table.
It was time for the matters of business, Margaery thought.
Arthur seemed to notice it as well. He set aside his wine cup.
"My agents from the Merlin Bank must have informed your steward that I wish to purchase a hundred million bushels of grain from the Reach over the year," Arthur said to her father.
The hall grew noticeably quieter and the servants seemed to move more softly.
Arthur continued, "We can pay in silver or in goods of trade. That is yours to decide."
Lord Mace leaned forward. "Such a large amount," he said, a genuine surprise plain upon his face. "How do you mean to transport this?"
"A new northern harbor will open on the western coast soon." He replied, "From there ships will sail, my lord."
"The western coast?" Mace repeated. "Do you speak of Barrowton?"
Lady Olenna's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Did you finally get what you are owed, Ser Manderly?"
Margaery did not know what they were speaking of, truth is she had no knowledge of the realm up north. Yet her grandmother seemed interested in sending her there anyway. So it was time she learned more.
There was no trace now of the easy young knight who had laughed with her over apples and oranges. This Arthur spoke differently and his face held no mirth.
"You shall know the location of the harbor soon enough," Arthur replied, "For now, you need only know that it has deep waters that welcome large ships."
Lord Mace stroked his beard. "A hundred million bushels would feed a kingdom entire."
"It would." Arthur replied.
"Do you mean to hoard them?" Her father asked as he seemed ready to pursue the matter of granaries and harbors further, but Lady Olenna had heard quite enough.
She tapped her cane once upon the floor. The sharp sound carried cleanly through the hall.
"Enough talk of trade," Lady Olenna said. "I do not wish to waste my precious time bargaining like some fishmonger at the harbor. Mace, say what you came to say and we all can get on with our lives."
The servants, sensing the change in the room, quietly withdrew another pace from the table.
Arthur's sea-blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and though his courteous smile remained, it became the smile of a man who had at last reached the conversation he had expected all along.
Lord Mace shifted awkwardly in his chair. He cleared his throat once.
"Surely you have come to learn from Lord Stark," he began, "that I have approached him about the betrothal of my daughter to his heir, Robb Stark."
Margaery kept her hands folded neatly in her lap. She had heard these words before, yet hearing them spoken aloud before Arthur felt strangely different. She found herself stealing glances at him despite herself.
Only the briefest flicker crossed his face. Surprise. Gone almost before she was certain she had seen it.
Arthur inclined his head, inviting her father to continue.
Lord Tyrell pressed on. "Well, I had asked him for a decision during the tourney. Lord Stark said he would take some time to consider the matter, and naturally we granted him that courtesy." He spread his hands. "An appropriate amount of time has now passed, and still no answer has come yet."
Silence lingered for a heartbeat. Lord Mace seemed uncertain whether to continue.
Lady Olenna supplied the answer for him. ""Seven save me, Mace, if words were Wheat you and that slime from Vale would have fed the realm alone." she sighed, "Now cease your prattling!"
Her son closed his mouth at once and the old woman leaned forward and fixed Arthur with a steady gaze. "Tell us will your foster father agree to the match or not, so we can end this nonsense once and for all."
The question hung in the candlelit hall. Margaery felt her own heartbeat quicken.
Arthur rested his hands lightly upon the table and regarded Lady Olenna for a long moment. As though weighing not merely the question, but the manner in which it deserved to be answered.
At last he spoke. "My lady," he said evenly, "I can tell you that my lord does not make such decisions lightly."
"We can clearly see that," Olenna replied snorting, "As heavily as he is taking such matters, Stark would be dead before he would see him wed."
Arthur ignored the bard and continued. "When Lord Stark told Lord Tyrell he wished for time, he spoke truthfully. If he has not yet sent his answer, it is because he has not yet reached one."
Lady Olenna studied him. "So you do not know, what a waste!"
Arthur met her gaze. "I know that he has not shared his decision with me."
The answer was careful. Not a lie, Margaery thought or at least she believed it so.
Arthur had promised her once that he disliked lies more than blasphemy. For reasons she could not fully explain, she found herself believing he had carried that same rule into this hall.
Lady Olenna gave a slow nod. "A fair answer," she admitted. "Though not the one I had hoped to hear."
"I would sooner admit my ignorance than pretend to have knowledge I do not possess." Arthur replied.
She leaned back slightly. "Then let us leave wolves to their own counsel and come to the reason we are here."
Arthur inclined his head.
Lady Olenna folded her hands atop the silver head of her cane. ""You have the ear of Stark but I am told you have the ear of his son even more."
Still he remained silent, inviting her to continue.
"If any man in this realm can see the worth in binding the North and the Reach together, it would be you."
Arthur smiled politely. "It would be a most worthy alliance."
Lady Olenna replied, "Aye, the North would gain the friendship of the richest fields in Westeros. And we would gain faithful allies whose words have long been worth more than another lord's oath."
"There is wisdom in such a union." He replied with a pause.
Lady Olenna's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Then we understand one another."
"I believe we do." Arthur folded his hands upon the table. "But I confess I do not yet understand what my lady asks of me."
Margaery looked from one to the other. Nor do I.
Her grandmother had revealed little before arranging this visit. Only that she intended to draw the crown nearer to House Tyrell by means subtler than either Lord Mace or Loras imagined. That alone had surprised Margaery.
Loras had spent much of their stay in King's Landing with Lord Renly, speaking in quiet corners and exchanging meaningful looks that required no words. She knew well enough what scheme occupied them. Place Margaery beside King Robert. Replace Queen Cersei. It had seemed a singer's tale rather than a lord's design. Olenna had dismissed it before Loras had finished explaining. 'Utter foolishness' she had declared it.
And Margaery had agreed. King Robert might stray from his marriage bed often enough, but he was no Maegor. Whatever affection he bore the queen had long since cooled that was plain enough for everyone to see, yet setting her aside would shake the realm to its foundations.
Even if Robert somehow put Cersei aside and took Margaery to wife, Prince Joffrey remained his acknowledged heir. Prince Tommen came after him. Any son Margaery bore would stand behind both.
A queen she might become, but the mother of kings she would not.
Margaery would spend her youth as a king's wife and her later years at the mercy of another woman's sons. She had no wish to be a false queen, nor a paramour. Whatever else she desired, she meant to keep her honor.
And her grandmother did not waste her wit upon castles built upon clouds, so Lord Mace had gone to Eddard Stark instead.
If Margaery wed Robb Stark, she would one day become Lady of Winterfell. Should Sansa remain Joffrey's queen, Robb would be the king's goodbrother, and in time uncle to the children who followed. Such ties were not easily broken. The Reach would gain the North, the Riverlands through Lady Catelyn, and perhaps even the Vale through blood and friendship. It was a quieter path but a more stronger one.
Lady Olenna rested both hands upon her cane. "I want this match made." She replied firmly, "Speak well of my granddaughter to Lord Stark and to young Robb if the chance presents itself. Help bring these two houses together."
She regarded him carefully before adding, "Do that, and House Tyrell shall remember the service."
Lord Mace nodded eagerly. "The Reach does not forget its friends."
Lady Olenna ignored him. "More than that, I would gladly speak of binding our own houses more closely in the years to come."
That caught Margaery by surprise. A marriage?
Her thoughts leapt at once to Willas. Grandmother cannot mean Loras, he is their key to Renly.
Arthur narrowed his eyes and asked, smiling, "Are we speaking of the bonds of blood, my lady?"
Olenna frowned and said, "Aye, speaking simply, if you get this done. I shall betroth our Willas to that green haired cousin of yours. It would be a generous enough reward. A cousin of white harbor should count her fortune to wed the heir of Highgarden."
Across the table Arthur had grown still. The candlelight caught in his blue-green eyes as he considered Lady Olenna's offer. For a heartbeat they seemed almost amused.
After a long while he spoke, "My lady is generous." His gaze moved from Olenna to Lord Mace and then briefly to Margaery herself. "It would be difficult to refuse so handsome an offer."
Lady Olenna waited.
Arthur folded his hands before him. "Though I fear you credit me with greater influence than I possess. Lord Stark hears many voices including my own when he asks for it, but in the end the affairs of House Stark are decided by Lord Eddard himself. He does not surrender his judgment to mine."
A faint smile touched his lips. "Nor would I wish him to. Robb's marriage is ultimately his father's decision."
Lady Olenna's mouth tightened ever so slightly. She was not a woman accustomed to hearing the limits of another man's power.
Before she could answer, Arthur continued. "Even so… I would count such a union to be a wise one." He glanced toward Margaery. Then toward Lord Mace. "The North and the Reach have little cause for quarrel and much to gain from friendship. The Reach would gain steadfast friends, North would gain allies whose strength no man can lightly dismiss, peace between two of the realm's greatest houses... such things strengthen more than the families involved."
Finally he looked back at Lady Olenna. "So I shall do what I honestly can. I will speak truthfully of Lady Margaery whenever the matter is raised. If an opportunity comes to encourage the match, I shall not let it pass."
A faint chuckle escaped him. "I would do as much even without the reward you offer."
Silence lingered for a moment.
Then Lady Olenna laughed. A dry, knowing laugh. "Smart boy." She pointed a crooked finger at him. "Sharp enough to refuse a bargain without refusing it."
Arthur only smiled.
"We Tyrells remember those who serve us well," the old woman went on. "Do this, and you'll find the Reach a steadfast friend. Who knows?" She waved her hand dismissively. "Perhaps we'd even see you suitably wed. Lord Paxter has that girl..."
She frowned. "What was her name?"
Margaery answered before she had time to think. "Desmara."
The name slipped softly from her lips. It sounded in a strange melancholy when spoken aloud. She frowned inwardly. Why should it?
Desmara was her cousin, pleasant enough, comely besides. If House Redwyne sought Arthur's hand, it was only sensible. Then why had the name left such an unpleasant taste in her mouth?
The thought unsettled her. Would I rather another name had been spoken?
Her own? The notion came so suddenly that she almost startled herself. Foolishness. She lowered her eyes to her cup. Utter foolishness. Arthur was scarcely more than an acquaintance. A friend. Nothing more. She would not let a maiden's fancy make a fool of her.
Across the table Lady Olenna snapped her fingers. "Yes, Desmara." She gave a dismissive sniff. "A sweet enough girl, though not one to trouble the Citadel with her wit. Still, Paxter's cellars are deep and his coffers deeper."
The Queen of Thorns shrugged. "In marriages, gold oft proves the prettier face."
Lord Mace gave an awkward cough, though whether in agreement or embarrassment Margaery could not tell.
Arthur chuckled softly. "My lady is frank as ever."
"I've lived too long for pretty lies."
Lord Mace reached once more for his wine before setting the cup aside.
"There is another matter," he said. "One I would have from your own mouth."
Arthur inclined his head.
Her father spoke, "We have heard that it was you who proposed Ser Loras to command the City Watch."
Arthur did not hesitate. "Aye." His answer was simple. "I made that recommendation."
Margaery turned instinctively toward her brother. Loras's surprise was plain upon his face. For once, the Knight of Flowers had no ready smile nor quick jest.
He looked from Arthur to his father as though uncertain he had heard aright. "You did?" Loras asked.
Arthur met his gaze. "I did."
"But... why?" The question escaped Loras before he could soften it.
Arthur smiled faintly. "Because I believed you the best man for the office."
Loras blinked.
Arthur continued. "The Gold Cloaks require discipline before anything else. They need a commander whom the men may admire without fearing, and obey without resentment."
His smile broadened a little. "You possess the reputation to command respect and the courage to enforce it."
Loras seemed almost at a loss for words. Margaery felt a quiet satisfaction. Her brother had expected rivalry. Instead he had found esteem.
Lady Olenna snorted. "Fine words." She reached for a fig. "Yet the butcher is still strutting about the city in his gold cloak, so what use are these fine words?"
Arthur's expression sobered. "There have been... complications."
"Complications with the hand?" Olenna asked, narrowing her eyes.
Arthur acknowledged the point with a slight inclination of his head. "Aye but the matter is not abandoned yet, it is merely delayed."
Loras leaned forward. "If the obstacle is only a butcher..." His eyes had brightened now. "why don't we just remove him?"
The hall grew still again. Olenna frowned at her grandson, no matter where they were speaking openly about killing a king's officer was still very dangerous. Margaery sighed at her brother's impatience.
Arthur looked toward him. "There is one course but only if Lord Renly lends his support much of our problems will disappear." He looked as though laying out moves upon a cyvasse board."
Lord Mace broke into a broad smile. "That much is easily done." He laughed. "Renly would sooner refuse the king than refuse Loras."
Loras nodded eagerly. "He'll stand beside us. Tell us what you require."
Arthur considered him for a moment. "I leave for the east with the dawn, so there is little enough time."
He paused a while and then added, "I shall leave instructions with those in my service who shall remain behind. When the moment comes, they will tell you what is needed."
Loras accepted that with a firm nod. "Thank you for supporting me. You do me a great honour."
Arthur shook his head, "The honour is mine, ser, a warrior of your pedigree will be well suited for the city." He smiled and added, "And I have hoped we might cross swords again one day."
Her little brother had never taken defeat lightly. Yet whatever resentment remained was hidden beneath perfect courtesy. Loras allowed himself the ghost of a grin. "Next time I intend to leave the lists victorious."
Arthur grinned and said, "I should expect nothing less."
Loras smirked, "There will be no gifts of easy victories from me."
Arthur matched his smirk and replied, "I would truly be disappointed if there were."
The exchange eased something between them. Not friendship, but perhaps respect.
Loras inclined his head once before Arthur's attention returned to Lord Tyrell. "My lord, there is one favor I would ask in return."
Lord Mace spread his hands. "If it lies within my power."
"The fleet sails at first light and with it the realm enters uncertain days." Arthur said looking around the hall.
His blue-green eyes rested steadily upon Lord Mace. "In such times, friends matter more than gold. So I would ask you to honor that friendship and see that some of your sworn banners might accompany the expedition."
Lord Mace rubbed thoughtfully at his beard. "Most of my lords have returned home after the tourney, some are already preparing to join the crusade."
Arthur replied, "I know, my lord. But there are none who are leaving with the vanguard, which begs the question." He paused and added, ""I ask for no great host. A few good men are oft worth more than many indifferent ones."
Lord Mace looked toward Lady Olenna. She gave the smallest shrug.
Lord Mace smiled. "Very well. I shall send word tonight. Someone might still be in the capital."
Arthur inclined his head deeply. "There is honor in standing together, my lord."
Mace chuckled. "And when they return with tales of glory, the singers will remember Reach had a hand in it."