webnovel

Game of Thrones: Lord of the Flames

[Game of Thrones Fanfiction: Readable Even Without Knowing the Original Novel or Series] Years later, When the legendary lord, dragonrider, Son of Sacred Flame, Nightmare of schemers, Breaker of the game’s order, Undefeated myth of the battlefield, Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm— Samwell Caesar ascends the Iron Throne, he would surely recall that distant afternoon when he received the writ of expansion from the “Rose of Highgarden.” Back then, no one could have imagined that this young man, abandoned by his father, would unleash an iron-blooded storm that would sweep across the entire continent of Westeros. Raw: 权游之圣焰君王 Author: 萝卜上秤

Iceswallowcome · Bücher und Literatur
Zu wenig Bewertungen
537 Chs

Chapter 306: The Highgarden Steward

Night had fallen.

Samwell was preparing for bed when a knock on his door interrupted the quiet.

When he opened it, he saw someone unexpected yet unsurprising standing outside.

"Ser Garrett," Samwell said, a few thoughts running through his mind. "What brings you here so late?"

"Good evening, Lord Caesar," Garrett greeted him with a respectful bow. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Not at all. Come in."

As Garrett entered the room, he couldn't shake a mix of hesitation and apprehension. Sitting across from Samwell, he found himself reflecting on how much had changed in three short years.

Back in King's Landing, this man had been nothing more than a rugged hedge knight—a skilled jouster but not someone taken seriously by Westerosi nobility.

Now, he was a king, commanding dragons and reshaping the Seven Kingdoms. Even the powerful Tyrells had to bend before him.

"Make yourself comfortable," Samwell said as he sat down.

Garrett obeyed but remained visibly tense. "Lord Caesar," he began, "do you remember when we crossed swords in King's Landing?"

"Of course," Samwell replied with a faint smile. "Our first bout ended in a draw, but I landed a hit on your breastplate in the second round."

"Yes," Garrett nodded, his expression earnest. "Looking back, it feels like a privilege to have faced you. My father always said you were destined to become one of the greatest knights the Seven Kingdoms has ever seen."

Samwell chuckled. "I'm flattered by Ser Garth's high praise. How is your father? I haven't seen him in a long time."

"Still in good health, thank you for asking."

"Ser Garth has always been someone I admire. His work as Highgarden's steward has been exemplary. Highgarden owes much of its order and prosperity to him."

Garrett shook his head modestly. "You honor him too greatly. He's just a steward, hardly worthy of such accolades."

Samwell's tone grew thoughtful. "Is that so? The Tyrells were once stewards to the Gardeners, yet they now rule Highgarden."

Garrett stiffened, his heart racing. Was Samwell suggesting that Ser Garth could one day seize control of Highgarden? He quickly pushed the dangerous thought aside, yet his pulse quickened despite himself.

"Lord Caesar," Garrett said carefully, "my visit tonight is not one of choice..."

"Because I rejected your terms?"

"Yes," Garrett admitted after a moment. "The proposal to trade Kevan Lannister for Loras Tyrell was Lady Olenna's idea."

"And Mace's opinion?"

"He... he's torn."

Samwell sneered. "So Mace wants to hand over his mother but doesn't have the spine to act against her or risk his reputation?"

"Precisely."

"And what about the rest of the Tyrell family? What does your father, Ser Garth, think?"

Garrett hesitated. He could tell Samwell was probing for more than he let on. His father was respected throughout the Reach, as much—if not more—than the blustering Lord Mace.

"Many Tyrells blame Lady Olenna for our current troubles," Garrett admitted. "They believe she is the root cause of Highgarden's decline. My father agrees that she bears responsibility."

"But you can't persuade Mace to act against her, can you?"

"No..."

Samwell smiled, understanding the internal dynamics of the Tyrells more clearly now.

"That spineless fish can't be relied upon," he said casually. "If your family wants to save itself, you'll need to make the hard decisions."

"My father has already rallied several Tyrell knights willing to cooperate with you..."

Garrett trailed off, but Samwell had heard enough.

So, the Tyrells wanted someone else to handle Olenna, leaving their hands clean.

"Very well," Samwell said with a smile, thinking of the eager blade he had recently prepared. "But I have one condition..."

---

Highgarden

Garrett Flowers rode hard to return to Highgarden, arriving late and covered in dust. He bypassed rest and sought out his father, Ser Garth Tyrell, immediately.

The steward of Highgarden was over sixty, portly yet imposing, with sharp, intelligent eyes that contrasted with his otherwise unassuming appearance. His meticulously groomed mustache gave him an air of authority that few dared challenge.

"Father," Garrett said once they were alone, "Caesar rejected the offer to trade Kevan Lannister for Loras Tyrell. However, he agreed to your suggestion. Also, the Horse Faction forces are advancing on Highgarden."

Ser Garth showed no surprise. "Good. You inform Lord Mace, and I'll see Lady Olenna."

Garrett hesitated. "Why meet with Lady Olenna? She's certain to suspect something..."

Ser Garth snorted. "Do you think she hasn't already pieced it together? Regardless of what she's done, Olenna has served the Tyrells faithfully for decades. She deserves an explanation."

Garrett's hesitation deepened. He then asked, haltingly:

"Father, should we... quietly deal with Mace as well?"

Ser Garth froze, then slowly turned to his son, his gaze icy.

Garrett flinched under the weight of his father's glare but pressed on:

"We could blame the Horse Faction for his death, and Caesar seems to hold you in high regard..."

"You think Caesar promised to make me Lord of Highgarden?" Ser Garth interrupted.

"Not directly, but he implied that Mace's line wouldn't retain control of Highgarden. He even mentioned how the Tyrells rose from being stewards—"

"Enough," Ser Garth snapped. "If you truly understood Caesar's words, you'd see they were a test. He has no intention of killing Mace and fears the Horse Faction might try. That's why he wants you to take Mace and leave Highgarden.

"And don't delude yourself—if Mace dies, we will not inherit Highgarden."

"How can you be sure?" Garrett asked angrily.

"Because Margaery Tyrell is Caesar's queen," Ser Garth said firmly.

"Do you really think he still trusts her after everything that's happened?"

"Do you know the truth of their relationship?"

"I..."

"Do you know why Olenna didn't use Margaery in her plot to assassinate Caesar? It would have been the easiest path to success."

"I..."

"You know nothing. You've built castles in the air and convinced yourself they're real. You can't even see yourself clearly."

Garrett's face flushed with anger.

"I know what I am—a bastard. Unfit to inherit anything. And you wouldn't let me, even if I could!"

"Correct," Ser Garth said coldly. "You lack the merit."

Garrett trembled with rage.

"But I never sought to inherit anything myself," Ser Garth continued. "If I had, I would have married long ago. My independence is what has allowed me to remain steward of Highgarden for so many years."

Garrett calmed down a bit, but still felt unwilling:

"You can at least become the Steward of Highgarden, but what about me?"

"I have given you the title of a knight, a group of war horses, a set of armor, and a sword." Garth said, "What you can achieve next depends on you. I am the second son, and you, you're a bastard son. We are both destined to win glory and respect with our own hands."

Garrett pursed his lips and said nothing more.

He placed a firm hand on his son's shoulder.

"Forget these foolish ideas. Take Mace and leave Highgarden. Protect him.

"The roses may wither in winter, but their fallen petals enrich the soil for a brighter spring. Remember our words, 'Growing Strong.'

"I'm too old to see the roses bloom again, but you're young. You still have time."

Garrett took a deep breath, placing a hand over his chest in salute. Without another word, he turned and left.

(End of Chapter)