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Chapter 277: The Killing Plot

Under the gaze of the crowd, Margaery finally arrived before Samwell.

Holding her hand, Mace Tyrell stood beside her, his expression a mix of pride, melancholy, and resignation. His eyes lingered on Samwell's sharp and handsome face, full of youthful energy and ambition, before he opened his mouth as if to say something.

But no words came.

Instead, he turned to his elegantly dressed daughter and said, "Margaery, I can only walk with you this far."

His voice was thick with emotion, and his eyes reddened slightly.

"Thank you, Father." Margaery gave him a warm embrace, planting a kiss on his cheek.

Mace patted her gently on the back, sighed quietly, and placed her hand in Samwell's. Then, without another word, he stepped aside.

The hall erupted in applause, and Cleopatra let out a low growl of excitement.

The dragon's heated breath caused the rose petals strewn on the ground to wither, their edges curling to a crisp. Fearing the heat might damage Margaery's dress, Samwell quickly turned and gave the dragon a warning look.

Cleopatra huffed but obediently closed her mouth.

Several maidens hurried forward to scatter fresh rose petals over the couple, creating a delicate floral rain as Samwell took Margaery's hand and led her up the steps.

Together, they walked toward the statues of the Father and the Mother.

Together, they walked toward their vows under the gaze of the gods.

Before the statues of the Seven, Samwell Caesar and Margaery Tyrell stood face to face, solemnly exchanging their vows.

"I am yours," Samwell said, his voice filled with conviction. Never had the young bride before him seemed so radiant, her beauty almost overwhelming.

"And I am yours," Margaery replied, her smile dazzling. She had always dreamed of being a queen, but standing here, marrying a mere earl, she felt unexpectedly content.

"From this day until the end of our lives," they said in unison, their voices intertwining and resonating throughout the sept, merging into one harmonious declaration.

The High Septon raised a crystal orb high above them. The refracted rainbow light illuminated their faces as he proclaimed:

"Before the Seven and all witnesses, I declare Samwell Caesar of House Caesar and Margaery Tyrell of House Tyrell husband and wife. From this day forward, they are one body, one mind, and one soul, bound until eternity. Let any who dare interfere with this union suffer the wrath of the gods!"

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause.

As the choir sang a hymn, Samwell removed his cloak and unfurled it, draping it gently over Margaery's shoulders. This act symbolized his promise to protect her from that day forward.

He secured the cloak around her neck, leaned forward, and kissed her deeply.

The hall filled with thunderous applause and jubilation.

The High Septon concluded with a final blessing, reaffirming their union as sacred and eternal.

The ceremony over, Ser Chiman Tiger Fang and Ser Loras Tyrell led the procession out of the sept to the banquet hall.

The hall had been prepared with light refreshments and wine, offering a brief respite before the couple would step outside to receive blessings from the gathered citizens of the Reach.

Margaery excused herself to refresh her makeup and change gowns, leaving Samwell in the hall to converse with the Reach nobility. After an endless stream of pleasantries, Samwell's face began to ache from forced smiles. Using a trip to the washroom as an excuse, he slipped away.

Wandering along a secluded garden path, Samwell suddenly spotted a familiar figure ahead—Hobber Redwyne, heir to the Arbor.

The Arbor's ruling lord, Paxter Redwyne, was notably absent from the wedding. Since the Stag Faction's rebellion, Paxter had been conspicuously avoiding public appearances, likely to avoid awkward encounters with the Horse Faction. His fleet's inactivity during the Ironborn invasion and subsequent rebellion had not gone unnoticed.

Samwell hesitated, then discreetly rolled up his sleeve to reveal the red gem bracelet coiled around his wrist.

"Lakqumos."

Ahead, Hobber strolled idly, enjoying the quiet. Suddenly, he felt a peculiar shift in the atmosphere. The sunlight seemed to dim momentarily, and an indistinct, eerie voice reached his ears.

Turning, he saw none other than Mace Tyrell, smiling warmly as he approached.

"Hobber, why aren't you in the hall enjoying the feast?" asked the disguised Samwell.

"Because I can't stand the smug faces of those Horse Looking fools," Hobber replied, his tone dripping with disdain.

Samwell sighed sympathetically. "Seeing them makes my blood boil too."

Hobber chuckled darkly. "Don't worry, Uncle. Those Horses buffoons won't be laughing for much longer."

"What do you mean?" Samwell feigned confusion.

"Lady Olenna didn't tell you? No surprise. The fewer people who know, the better," Hobber said, his suspicion minimal. After all, in his eyes, his uncle was a harmless figure of little consequence.

"What's going on? Is Mother scheming something again? Is Paxter involved?" Samwell pressed, his face contorted in mock worry. "Please don't stir up trouble again! We've just regained some peace, and the last incident nearly got me killed—"

"Relax, Uncle. This time is different," Hobber assured him with a conspiratorial grin. "Paxter would never harm his own family. But rest assured, we have plans for Caesar."

"For Caesar?" Samwell widened his eyes, his shock only half-feigned.

Hobber nodded grimly. "Uncle, do you know how my brother, Horas, died?"

"Wasn't he killed by the Dornish in King's Landing?"

"That's what I thought too," Hobber said, his jaw clenched with fury. "But recently, Father uncovered the truth—Caesar orchestrated his death! Ser Dayne was just a scapegoat."

"Where did your father learn this? Is the source reliable?" Samwell's thoughts immediately turned to the spymaster Varys, the "Spider."

"It was Varys," Hobber confirmed. "He told us that a strange Hawk appeared in the godswood the day Horas was killed. Caesar is known to keep a trained hawk and had a grudge against Horas from their voyage together. Father suspected foul play long ago, and Varys's information confirmed his suspicions."

"And that's why your father is determined to kill Caesar…"

"Exactly." Hobber hesitated, then leaned closer. "Oh, and Uncle, please don't tell Margaery. Father thinks she's too blinded by her absurd love for Caesar—she even eloped with him once! If she finds out, she might warn him."

"Of course, of course. I won't say a word," Samwell assured him, nodding vigorously with an air of naivety.

After a bit more idle chatter, Samwell excused himself and left.

So, Varys wants me dead too, Samwell thought grimly.

It didn't surprise him. Varys was devoted to the cause of restoring the Targaryens—or rather, to placing the rumored "Young Griff," the supposed son of Rhaegar Targaryen, on the throne. A dragonlord like Samwell was an obstacle to those ambitions, and the Spider clearly deemed him a threat.

The Stag Faction's rebellion had been but the opening gambit.

Now, Lady Olenna, Tywin Lannister, Varys, Paxter Redwyne, and perhaps even Prince Doran Martell had conspired to set a trap—a killing game—aimed squarely at him.

Randyll Tarly had been right all along. Samwell had underestimated the ruthless nature of the game of thrones and the lengths his enemies would go to eliminate him.

In a quiet, shadowed corner of the garden, Samwell's disguise faded, revealing his true face.

The red gemstone bracelet on his wrist shattered into countless fragments, glittering like blood as they slipped through his fingers.

(End of Chapter)

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