Chapter 274: The Queen

Highgarden lay in ruins after the calamity, stripped of its former grandeur.

The roses, though battered and tearful, swallowed their rage and began to rebuild their garden anew.

Life, after all, must move forward.

But for Mace Tyrell, there seemed to be no such urgency.

The nominal lord of Highgarden spent his days in a drunken stupor, avoiding all responsibilities as if oblivion could shield him from reality.

Fortunately, no one expected much from him.

Lady Olenna Tyrell had taken charge decisively upon arriving at Highgarden. The sharp-witted matriarch quickly set everything in order, overseeing the recovery with her usual efficiency.

Yet some wounds were beyond her control. The gardens ravaged by the Ironborn needed time to bloom again, just as the hearts of those who had suffered needed time to heal.

---

Samwell walked through the desolate garden, holding Margaery's hand. She spoke softly of the beauty it once held, her words tinged with nostalgia.

But Samwell's thoughts were elsewhere, immersed in the glowing interface of his attribute panel.

His title had changed—Earl of Storm's End.

And with it came ten free attribute points.

Ten whole points!

Samwell now realized the true potential of his system: leveling up his title to gain attribute points, not the microtransactions he had once suspected.

Storm's End deserved a ducal title, of course, being the ancestral seat of the Stormlands. However, Mace Tyrell lacked the authority to grant such a title. At best, he could bestow an earldom.

Samwell couldn't help but wonder: if becoming a legitimate Earl would grant him ten points, what would a king's title yield?

Twenty? More?

His ambitions soared. But for now, he was focused on the present dilemma: how to allocate these ten points.

Should he distribute them evenly between Strength and Agility? Or concentrate them on one?

Adding to Strength seemed logical, especially given the heavy sword he wielded. But his Spirit stat was tempting, too—it could convert into both Strength and Agility. Investing in Spirit would allow him flexibility in emergencies.

However, there were limitations. Through his experiments, Samwell discovered that Spirit conversions only lasted about ten minutes, and the process couldn't be repeated immediately.

Given these constraints, directly boosting Strength and Agility seemed the most practical.

"Sam, Grandmother is just ahead," Margaery's gentle tug on his hand pulled him from his thoughts.

Samwell adjusted his focus as they approached Lady Olenna, greeting her with a respectful bow.

---

Over tea and fruit, Olenna wasted no time.

"The imposter from last night—pretending to be Mace—was you, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Samwell admitted without hesitation.

"Bold move," she remarked. But her tone quickly turned stern. "You shouldn't have killed Arwyn Oakheart."

Samwell explained, "If betrayal comes without consequence—if they walk away richer for it—others will only follow their example. Arwyn had to die."

"But you killed her publicly," Olenna retorted sharply. "Did you not fear provoking the rebels? You may believe Togen Oakheart appreciated your actions and that the rebels lacked the courage to retaliate. But you gambled with the lives of my son and grandsons, and that was reckless."

Margaery interjected, "Grandmother, Samwell risked everything to save Highgarden. It's unfair to chastise him like this."

Samwell squeezed Margaery's hand reassuringly, then smiled at Olenna.

"The Lady of Thorns is right. My actions were impulsive."

Arguing with Olenna Tyrell was futile, he knew—her sharp words would leave him bleeding metaphorically if he tried.

Still, Samwell couldn't shake his belief that softness and hesitation would invite future problems. Olenna's disapproval likely stemmed from her feeling that House Tyrell had been sidelined during the rebellion's resolution.

The crisis, after all, had been largely managed by the Horse Faction, leaving Olenna to play catch-up. Her frustration was understandable.

Thankfully, the rebellion was over—for now.

The only lingering issue was Willas Tyrell, who remained a hostage. But once Willas married Togen's daughter, his release would follow naturally.

Olenna sighed, her gaze briefly softening toward Margaery.

"Enough. The aftermath of the rebellion is my responsibility. You don't need to worry about it anymore."

Samwell nodded silently, though he doubted there would be any consequences for the Redwyne fleet's absence. Olenna's focus was on maintaining balance in the Reach, and punishing the Redwynes would destabilize that equilibrium.

He resolved to return to Storm's End soon and focus on consolidating power in the Stormlands. That was where his true strength lay.

"You've taken the title of Earl of Storm's End?" Olenna asked.

"Yes," Samwell replied.

"An earl commanding the Stormlands. Do you not see the problem?"

Olenna was right. As an earl—technically subordinate to Highgarden—Samwell's authority over the Stormlands would always seem tenuous.

"Unfortunately, I have no one to crown me duke," Samwell admitted. "The king on the Iron Throne would never acknowledge me, and Stannis Baratheon certainly won't relinquish his family's ancestral seat."

"Have there been any updates on Stannis since the Battle of King's Landing?" Margaery asked.

"He's alive," Olenna replied curtly. "Barely. He's retreated to Dragonstone, but he's hardly a threat anymore."

"The northern lords still support him, don't they?" Margaery pressed.

Olenna scoffed. "The North can't even protect itself. Winterfell is under Ironborn control."

Samwell frowned.

"The Ironborn won't hold Winterfell for long."

"No, but they've thrown the North into chaos. That's enough for certain ambitious 'allies' to act against the Starks."

Samwell immediately thought of Roose Bolton at the Dreadfort and Walder Frey at the Twins—In the original book they were indeed traitors in the making.

"The Northern alliance may crumble under Lannister pressure," Samwell mused. "We should attack King's Landing soon, while the lions are stretched thin."

"Not yet," Olenna said, shaking her head. "The Reach needs time to recover. The rebellion has drained our strength. Let the North hold on a little longer."

Samwell sighed. He knew summoning another army so soon would only alienate the Reach lords. For now, he had to trust the North to endure.

"Perhaps you could approach Prince Doran Martell," Olenna suggested suddenly.

"You mean the Northern and Stormlands armies he holds in Dorne?" Samwell asked.

Releasing those troops would not only stabilize the North but also win him the loyalty of Stormlands lords. But Doran's price would be high.

"Prince Doran won't give up those soldiers easily," Samwell said. "Last time, he demanded I marry Princess Arianne."

"Circumstances have changed," Olenna said. "You now control much of the Stormlands, including Storm's End. He may reconsider his terms."

"Or," Olenna added after a pause, "you could offer him something else."

"Such as?"

"A queen."

"A queen?" Samwell echoed, puzzled. "You mean Princess Arianne?"

"No," Olenna replied with a sly smile. "I mean Myrcella Baratheon."

Samwell's eyes widened as he realized Olenna's plan.

(End of Chapter)