Lynn's warm breath brushed against Margaery's ear.
It was like a feather, gently teasing Margaery's most sensitive nerves.
A crack finally appeared on Margaery's face, which always wore a perfect smile.
A suspicious blush spread from her earlobes to her cheeks, adding a breathtaking beauty to her already enchanting face.
Margaery's body trembled imperceptibly, but she did not retreat.
She was a smart woman.
She knew that in the face of absolute power, any scheme or trick seemed pale and powerless.
Lynn had already laid his cards on the table; he did not need to take sides, because he himself was a force capable of changing the game.
And now, Lynn had extended a brand new invitation to her.
An invitation far more direct and enticing than supporting Renly for king.
To let Highgarden's rose bloom in the North.
Margaery knew exactly what this meant.
Renly was too unpredictable; after all, he didn't like women.
But Lynn was different; he was a normal man.
If they married, they would surely have offspring in the future.
As long as Lynn ascended the iron throne and had a child with her, it would further solidify the House Tyrell's position.
She wasn't angry at Lynn's almost impolite gesture.
Instead, her heart, which had been somewhat flustered by having her plan completely seen through, strangely calmed down at this moment.
Lynn's demeanor towards her made her instantly understand her value in his eyes.
As for lust, or anything else, she didn't care.
What she cared about was always status and her family.
This made her feel an unprecedented thrill.
Margaery looked up, and in her beautiful brown eyes, the confusion and panic quickly faded.
"The lands of the North are too harsh and cold."
Margaery's voice returned to its usual gentleness.
But there was a subtle, almost imperceptible hook in her tone, gently scratching at one's heart.
"I fear Highgarden's rose would quickly wither in such icy conditions."
She neither refused nor agreed.
Instead, she cleverly tossed the question back.
She was like an experienced merchant, who, after Lynn had named his price, began to calmly assess the risks and benefits of this transaction.
"Wither?"
Lynn smiled.
He released Margaery's chin.
His fingertips slowly slid down the graceful curve of her neck.
Finally resting on the rose embroidered in gold thread on her chest.
The gesture was full of aggression, yet carried an irresistible ambiguity.
"No."
"I promise, it will bloom more beautifully than anywhere else."
Lynn's fingertips, through the silky fabric, gently caressed the rose's pistil.
"Because I will water it with the wealth of the entire North, and warm it with Dragonfire."
Margaery's breath hitched slightly.
Lynn's promise was like a glass of the richest Dornish red wine, carrying a fatal allure that made her feel a little tipsy.
She knew Lynn wasn't making empty promises.
A man who could produce something like canned goods, capable of changing the world's geopolitical landscape, his promised wealth was no exaggeration.
But Margaery also knew that the more tempting the fruit, the greater the risk it often carried.
She needed to see Lynn demonstrate a strength worthy of her and the entire House Tyrell's gamble.
Not just distant dragons and armies.
But a tangible reality, close at hand, capable of truly altering the power structure of King's Landing.
Margaery stepped back half a pace, cleverly moving out of Lynn's control, which had made her heart race.
She walked to the table, poured herself a glass of water, using this small action to calm her somewhat disordered thoughts.
"Lord Lynn, your promise is indeed tempting."
She turned around, her face once again adorned with that impeccable, perfect smile.
"However, the future is too distant; I prefer to grasp what I can see right now."
Margaery's gaze fell in the direction of the Throne Room.
"For example, the duel seven days from now."
"And for example..."
Margaery's voice dropped even lower, and her beautiful eyes sparkled with shrewdness.
"The master of coin position that will be vacant after Petyr Baelish's downfall."
Lynn's eyebrow twitched slightly.
He knew the real negotiation was just beginning.
"A master of coin position for Highgarden's rose?"
Lynn's tone held a hint of amusement.
"Miss Tyrell, aren't you underestimating yourself?"
"No, a master of coin position is merely the foundation of our cooperation."
Margaery shook her head, looking at Lynn earnestly.
"I am merely assessing your sincerity."
"Although Petyr Baelish has fallen, there are quite a few people in King's Landing eyeing that position."
"House Lannister, Lord Renly, even Varys—they will all try every possible way to place their own people."
"If you can entrust Westeros' most important money bag to someone we both can accept and control..."
Margaery didn't finish her sentence, but the meaning was clear.
This was both a test and a pledge of allegiance.
If Lynn could achieve this, it would prove he had the ability to call the winds and summon the rain in the center of King's Landing's power vortex.
It would also prove he was worthy of the House Tyrell placing their bets on him.
A candidate controllable by both families... Several names instantly flashed through Lynn's mind.
But he quickly dismissed them one by one.
He needed someone absolutely loyal, yet not too conspicuous.
Preferably a pawn that everyone would overlook, yet one he could firmly control.
Someone who seemed harmless, even a bit foolish, but could sit in that position and guard his money bag.
Suddenly, a figure emerged in his mind.
A red-haired girl in a blue dress, who always lowered her head when she saw him, timid and like a startled bird.
Sansa Stark.
As soon as this thought appeared, Lynn himself found it somewhat absurd.
To make that silly girl, whose head was full of princes, knights, and love songs, the master of coin?
That was even more preposterous than asking the Mountain to embroider.
But upon closer thought, this seemed to be the most perfect, most unexpected, and most fitting candidate for his requirements.
Firstly, Sansa was Ned's daughter.
She was the eldest daughter of House Stark.
If she were to replace Petyr, Ned Stark, as Hand, would absolutely not object, and would even fully support it.
This would establish legal grounds.
Secondly, Sansa had previously appeared somewhat naive, even foolish.
In everyone's eyes, she was merely a beautiful ornament, a puppet that could be easily manipulated.
House Lannister would think they could control her, Renly would think he could win her over, and Varys would think she was not to be feared.
No one would consider her a real threat.
And this was precisely what Lynn needed.
He didn't need a shrewd master of coin; he only needed an obedient sealing machine.
All complex accounts and operations could be handled behind the scenes by professionals he recruited from the Iron Bank of Braavos or other free trade cities in Essos.
All Sansa needed to do was sit there.
Using her identity as the eldest daughter of House Stark and master of coin, she would stamp and seal every demand.
The most important point was this.
Sansa had an almost blind adoration and dependence on him.
Especially after experiencing Joffrey's betrayal and the cruel realities of King's Landing, the image of the prince, once like a god in her eyes, had long since collapsed.
And Lynn had already occupied a special place in her heart.
Sansa could be said to be utterly obedient to him.
"I have a candidate."
Lynn looked into Margaery's probing eyes and slowly spoke the name.
"Sansa Stark."
"Who?"
Even as intelligent as Margaery was, she thought she had misheard the name the moment she heard it.
"The eldest daughter of House Stark?"
For the first time, Margaery's face showed undisguised astonishment.
"Lord Lynn, are you joking?"
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
Lynn's rhetorical question gradually transformed the astonishment on Margaery's face into deep thought.
Her mind raced.
Sansa Stark... This choice, seemingly utterly absurd, yet possessed a stroke of genius that was both shocking and brilliant.
Just like Lynn himself, he never played by the rules, yet always achieved the most astonishing results.
She instantly understood all the intricacies.
With Sansa as master of coin, Ned Stark, as Hand, would support it, and King Robert, out of respect for Ned, would not object.
And Sansa herself, in everyone's eyes, was a soft persimmon that could be easily manipulated.
This was simply a perfect candidate that no faction could find fault with, yet everyone felt they had gained an advantage!
But in reality, the true controllers were Lynn and the House Tyrell, hidden behind the scenes!
Brilliant!
Truly brilliant!
Margaery looked at Lynn, her beautiful eyes sparkling with admiration.
She found herself increasingly unable to fathom the man before her.
Every move he made was so unexpected, yet so precise and ruthless.
"It seems, Lord Lynn, you already have a plan."
Margaery shed all her condescension.
She curtsied gracefully to Lynn.
Her posture conveyed a heartfelt respect.
"Then, I shall await your good news."
She knew it was time for her to leave.
The amount of information she received tonight was overwhelming; she needed to go back and digest it with her grandmother.
"Miss Tyrell, leaving so soon?"
Just as Margaery turned to leave, Lynn's voice drifted from behind her.
Margaery's footsteps paused.
She turned around, a perfectly appropriate hint of confusion on her face.
"I've shown my sincerity."
Lynn slowly walked towards her, his tall figure once again enveloping her.
"So, where is yours?"
His gaze was hot and direct.
It fell undisguisedly on Margaery's enchanting face.
Margaery's heart skipped a beat.
She, of course, understood what Lynn was referring to.
She bit her full lower lip, a hint of slyness flashing in her eyes that always held a smile.
The next second, she suddenly stood on tiptoe and pressed a feather-light kiss on Lynn's cheek.
"This is the down payment."
Margaery's voice held a touch of maidenly shyness, but her gaze was bold and fiery.
Before Lynn could react, she retreated lightly like a startled butterfly, widening the distance between them.
She winked at Lynn, a captivating curve playing on her lips.
"As for the rest..."
"It's not too late to ask me for it after you've won the duel, helped Sansa take her seat as master of coin, and developed that miraculous canned food."
With that, Margaery gave Lynn a slight smile, then, without further delay, gathered her skirt and elegantly and swiftly disappeared out the door.
Lynn touched his kissed cheek, where the fragrance of roses and the warmth of a young woman seemed to linger.
He couldn't help but chuckle.
This Highgarden rose was indeed a cunning little fox.
However, he liked it.
The game was more interesting when played this way.
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