Game of Thrones: Knight’s Honor

Chapter 366 - 366: Meat on the Tip of the Tongue

"Do you really want to sit on the Iron Throne?" Garlan Tyrell came rushing into Lynd's residence. The moment he saw him, he skipped all formalities and asked straight to the point.

"Since Prince Oberyn has gone so far as to place the Iron Throne right in front of me and even lifted me onto it himself, I don't really have a reason to refuse. If I did, it'd just be needlessly dramatic." Lynd shrugged, giving a casual explanation.

But to Garlan, that response struck a nerve—it gave him an urge to clench his fists.

Lynd turned and asked, "So, is House Tyrell against this?"

Garlan replied in a low voice, "My father has some objections. But my grandmother strongly supports it. As do I."

Lynd wasn't surprised by House Tyrell's stance. Mace Tyrell was clearly still fixated on bloodlines.

Garlan went on, "However, my grandmother has one condition—she wants you to marry Margaery..."

"Hold on, Lord Garlan, wait!" Lynd cut him off, his expression darkening. "Is House Tyrell asking me to dissolve my marriage with Nymeria and marry Margaery?"

"No, you've misunderstood." Garlan quickly explained, sensing Lynd's irritation. "It's not about annulling your marriage to Queen Nymeria. It's about marrying Margaery in addition."

"Like Aegon the Conqueror?" Lynd's expression eased a little, but he still shook his head. "Sorry. One wife is enough for me. I've never intended to take a second."

"One wife is enough?" Garlan gave him a puzzled look. "My lord, have you forgotten? Queen Nymeria seems to think she can't take care of you on her own. She's already arranged a marriage for you."

Lynd blinked in surprise. "What are you talking about? What marriage?"

"The one between you and Daenerys Targaryen, the Dragon Queen." Garlan looked at him in confusion. "Even the people in Highgarden know about it. Don't you?"

"Oh, that." Lynd's expression shifted to realization. "That's just a rumor. There's never been a marriage contract between me and Daenerys Targaryen."

"Are you sure about that, my prince?" Garlan looked at him, clearly stunned. "Queen Nymeria has already sent official letters to all the Free Cities across Essos. Even Highgarden received one. I imagine Sunspear did too. The letter said you personally delivered the betrothal agreement to Queen Daenerys..."

"Damn it!" Before Garlan could finish, Lynd understood what had happened. He cursed under his breath. "I knew something was off with that letter!"

It all made sense now. That so-called marriage contract must have been the letter he had delivered to Daenerys on Nymeria's behalf. No wonder Daenerys had that odd expression after reading it. No wonder Nymeria had been so mysterious about it. And no wonder Jon had looked so baffled when he handed him the intelligence and Lynd dismissed it as rumor.

"I had no idea about any of this. Nymeria did all of it behind my back." Lynd was clearly angry now. If he could, he would have flown straight to Ny Sar and demanded an explanation from Nymeria herself.

"Whether or not Queen Nymeria acted without your knowledge, it's already a settled matter." Garlan, by contrast, remained calm. "If you publicly deny the betrothal to Queen Daenerys now, it will definitely lead to a split between the two queens—and may even turn allies into enemies. As your friend, Lord Lynd, I urge you to tread carefully."

Lynd frowned. "So you think I should just accept what Nymeria did behind my back?"

"I don't see anything wrong with it," Garlan replied. "You'd gain a beautiful wife, one who already gets along with your current wife like a sister. And she comes with a kingdom's worth of land, armies, wealth—and three dragons. No matter how you look at it, there's no reason to say no." As he spoke, he looked at Lynd with more than a little envy.

Lynd remained silent for a long time, seemingly still weighing his options.

"When you mentioned Prince Oberyn earlier, you said he practically lifted you onto the Iron Throne—and refusing at that point would've been pretentious," Garlan continued. "Isn't your situation with the two queens the same? If you could accept the throne, why not accept a betrothal to Queen Daenerys?"

Lynd gave a slight nod—Garlan's reasoning did make some sense—but then he looked at him with a puzzled expression. "When did you become Nymeria's spokesman? If I go along with this betrothal to Daenerys, what benefit does that bring you? You've been working awfully hard to convince me. And if I marry Daenerys, I'll already have two wives. How would a marriage alliance with House Tyrell even work after that?"

Garlan shrugged. "If you already have two wives, then having a third doesn't seem so far-fetched."

Lynd raised an eyebrow. "And Lord Mace and the Lady of the house would be fine with that?"

"They didn't object when Grandmother made the decision," Garlan explained. "They're well aware of your situation, so I'd say they gave their silent approval."

"Margaery has fallen so far out of favor in House Tyrell?" Lynd frowned slightly. "You'd rather have her marry a man who already has two wives—become his third—than find her a suitable noble lord?"

"With Margaery's pride? She'd never agree to marry just any lord," Garlan said, shaking his head. "After Joffrey broke off their engagement, and then Renly was assassinated on their wedding day, the rumors started piling up. Now that Joffrey's been murdered—even though it was Ellie who married him—people are still blaming Margaery. There are whispers that she's a witch, that she used magic to kill Joffrey. In a situation like that, no noble house with an ancient lineage would be willing to take her. In the end, she'd have no choice but to marry a landed knight with some wealth. She'd never agree to that. She'd rather die—literally."

Lynd nodded. Knowing Margaery, if she truly had to choose between marrying a minor knight and death, she would probably choose death without hesitation—and do it dressed in her finest.

"So, did you all plan for Margaery to end up in Summerhall?" Lynd asked, suspicious.

Garlan shook his head. "No! We thought she'd go to Oldtown, or maybe the Arbor. But she chose Summerhall herself. It shows she might still have some feelings for you..."

"There's nothing between us. Don't start making things up." Lynd clearly didn't believe Garlan's version of events. House Tyrell was too cunning. He was convinced they had steered Margaery toward Summerhall behind the scenes. Otherwise, how could she have safely made the journey there with just a handful of attendants and maids, especially given the state of the Reach at the time? The Tyrells had probably sent guards to protect her and had long since decided to aim for a marriage alliance with him.

Lynd sighed, then looked at Garlan seriously and said, "We'll put this matter on hold for now. Once things in King's Landing are resolved, we can revisit it. As for whether House Tyrell wants to support my claim to the Iron Throne—I don't care. And I won't accept any conditions attached to that support. Understood, Lord Garlan?"

"I understand." Garlan smiled. To him, the fact that Lynd said the matter was being postponed rather than outright rejected meant there was still room for negotiation. He figured Lynd was already tempted.

If Lynd had known what Garlan was thinking, he probably would've rolled his eyes at him.

Lynd had no interest in continuing the conversation, so he shifted the topic. "Tell me something—I've always been curious. Why did your house plan to assassinate Joffrey? I remember you got along with him quite well, like friends. He seemed satisfied with Arya, and he disliked Tywin. By all logic, you should've been ideal allies."

"Because Joffrey reminded us of someone," Garlan said with a sigh.

"The Mad King Aerys," Lynd replied.

"So you noticed it too," Garlan nodded. "Don't be fooled by how close we seemed. Once Joffrey secured his hold on the throne, we would've been the first ones he turned on—just like Aerys turned on Lord Tywin back then."

"If I'm not mistaken, Lord Tywin probably plans for Tommen to marry Ellie, to maintain House Tyrell's alliance with the Iron Throne and help Tommen ascend," Lynd analyzed, then added, "I haven't interacted much with Tommen, but he seems to be a good person—kind and gentle. Why didn't you choose him?"

Garlan's expression turned serious. "The one who sits the Iron Throne cannot afford to be kind and gentle."

"What do you plan to do next?" Lynd asked, a trace of curiosity in his voice.

Garlan shook his head. "Nothing. We've already done what we needed to do. Now it's up to the others."

He didn't linger at Lynd's residence much longer. Once the servants announced that Roose Bolton had arrived, Garlan took his leave. On his way out, he crossed paths with Roose—though neither man said a word.

When Lynd saw Roose Bolton, he didn't wait for him to speak and asked first, "Lord Bolton, are you here on your own behalf, or on behalf of Lady Catelyn?"

"Of course, on behalf of both of us," Roose Bolton replied with a rare smile. But even with a smile, his expression didn't feel pleasant—it gave off a sense of hidden malice.

"Both of you?" Lynd murmured, then asked curiously, "Lord Bolton, I'm genuinely curious—how did you convince Lady Catelyn to marry you and become so obedient? And don't try to tell me it was love. I know exactly how deep her feelings were for Lord Eddard Stark. She would rather die than remarry."

"Feelings?" Roose's smile vanished. "A woman's emotions are the most unreliable thing—especially when her spirit is broken. When she learned that our King Robb had been beheaded and had a wolf's head sewn onto his body, she was practically driven mad. I was the one who stayed with her during those long, dark days and helped her recover, bit by bit. Over time, I became her new pillar—her everything. Even when she learned that two of her sons were still alive at the Wall, she refused to see them. Whatever feelings she had for Lord Eddard Stark had long been discarded. Do you know where we slept the night we left Winterfell for Riverrun? In the Stark family crypt, right beside Eddard Stark's grave."

Lynd gave Roose a strange look. Honestly, the whole story sounded oddly familiar—so familiar it gave him a strange sense of déjà vu.

He said in a low voice, "And if she found out you collaborated with Tywin to betray her son—do you think she'd still be so loyal to you?"

"Do you have proof?" Roose smiled again, though it looked more forced this time. "Didn't I take Harrenhal in King Robb's name, which led directly to the ambush and death of Kevan Lannister? If that doesn't prove my loyalty to His Grace, what does?"

Lynd replied, "Don't forget about Jaime. You hid from Robb the fact that you captured him."

Roose had clearly anticipated that. "Jaime was my prisoner—my spoils of war. I had every right to decide what to do with him. There's nothing wrong with that. And don't forget, it was my men who cut off Jaime's hand. If I were in league with Lord Tywin, why would I allow the heir of House Lannister to be maimed?"

At that, Lynd couldn't help but clap softly. "Lord Roose Bolton, your mind is sharper than I expected—and you hide it well. Silently shaping the outcome of the war, and even afterward, leaving no trace. Honestly, someone like you makes me cautious."

Roose bowed respectfully. "Cunning is no match for power. Take Petyr Baelish—Littlefinger. He's clever too, nearly dragged every kingdom into chaos. But now? He hides in King's Landing, too afraid to even return to his own lands. Before you, no amount of scheming matters. If you truly wished it, even without support from the rest of us, you could sit the Iron Throne whenever you choose."

Lynd looked at him for a long moment, saying nothing. Sweat began to bead on Roose Bolton's forehead—clearly, Lynd's presence alone was enough to unnerve him.

After a pause, Lynd finally said, "I want to see the Riverlands restored as soon as possible—especially the farmlands. They must be rebuilt quickly. And I don't want to hear about any more unnecessary deaths among the lords of the Riverlands. Do you understand, Lord Bolton?"

"I will follow your orders," Roose said with a sigh of relief.

Lynd added, "And I'd rather not hear news one day that Lady Catelyn has suddenly died in some unexpected accident."

Roose gave that unpleasant smile again. "That won't happen. Catelyn is pregnant. Likely conceived the night we left King's Landing. If it's a boy, I plan to name him Eddard."