-87- Hidden secret

Gallen Crabby's Manor

Gallen, having just tidied himself up, was reading a letter from Emer, the commander of the Thorn Corps.

Is this...Westerosi hieroglyphs?

Gallen furrowed his brows and spent some time analyzing Emer's character and the current state of the Thorn Corps before roughly deducing the content Emer intended to convey.

Has Emer also learned to compete with other troops for equipment? Gallen chuckled.

Emer, whom Gallen had set as the exemplar Spearwife of House Crabb, had always performed excellently, but her character was overly straightforward.

Character traits are neither inherently good nor bad, but as a troop commander, Emer needed to be more flexible.

Therefore, Gallen was pleased with this change in Emer and felt it deserved a bit of encouragement.

Gallen folded the letter and sealed it back in the envelope.

People like Emer are naturally unlikely to have many black marks, so this pictorial letter might be one of the few in her life. Gallen intended to keep it.

Gallen was curious about how Emer would react in the future, perhaps years or decades later, when she saw this letter again.

...

Gallen cleared his throat, handing the sealed envelope to Surlana. "Surlana, keep this safe for me."

Surlana's eyes flickered slightly, but she accepted the envelope without a word, responding respectfully, "Yes, my lord."

Gallen continued, "Surlana, write a letter to Hershel for me about two matters... First, find a scribe for the Thorn Corps. Second, increase the allocation of new short swords for them. As for the exact number... let him adjust it."

Surlana had become very adept at handling such sudden responsibilities.

Though she was merely a chamberlain, she had constant access to the core of the territory.

In the past, before they reclaimed their old lands, they had more than enough staff.

Now, with their lands having grown several times larger, they were still running operations with the same staff. For a while, these reliable individuals could only handle multiple roles to help the lord manage House Crabb's territory.

...

Cersei lacked patience, and Gallen would soon have to leave his Manor for King's Landing.

After dealing with the backlog of letters, Gallen rubbed his brow.

"By the way, remember to prepare some clothes for Samwell. Mordin's clothes are still a bit big on him."

Having left Horn Hill and joined Gallen's camp, Samwell Tarly had only one set of clothes. His broad figure made finding ready-made clothes difficult, necessitating custom orders.

Due to the one-month deadline set by Jon Arryn, Gallen had no time to waste and needed to travel quickly.

Fortunately, at a critical moment, Mordin Waters had offered one of his robes, ensuring Samwell had something to wear.

Though a small matter, it slightly increased Gallen's dissatisfaction with Jon Arryn.

Gallen was running around for "Queen Cersei," while Jon Arryn in the Red Keep could wield his authority to tie his hands, which was very frustrating.

Gallen showed no outward signs, but inwardly, he was a bit angry.

Gallen silently declared: the Vale is going to be an inseparable part of Crackclaw Point.

...

Gallen was very welcoming of Samwell's addition.

Not just because of Samwell's outstanding intellect, but also because his presence could enhance the reputation of House Crabb.

Not everyone was aware of the internal dynamics of House Tarly; most only knew that the eldest son of the renowned Lord Randyll had become a squire to Lord Gallen Crabb.

Samwell's joining had unintentionally elevated the much-needed prestige of House Crabb.

...

Surlana nodded, "Mordin requires the fabric for three people. Now with Samwell, should I prepare more special-sized clothes in advance?"

Gallen laughed, "Surlana, it's rare for you to joke with me."

Surlana replied seriously, "It's considered offensive to joke casually with the lord. I am genuinely considering it."

Gallen shook his head, smiling, "Tell me, what do you really want to say?"

Surlana nodded, stepped closer to Gallen, and lowered her voice, "You've been away for so long. Why haven't I seen a single girl from the Reach?"

Gallen raised an eyebrow and leaned slightly toward Surlana.

Gallen noticed a gleam in Surlana's eyes. The usually serious chamberlain also had a gossiping heart?

Gallen whispered, "I met an interesting girl."

Surlana blinked, "And then?"

"Her status is too high to be interested in your Half-Wild Lord."

Surlana was taken aback for a moment and asked, "Did you express your feelings?"

Gallen shook his head, "To grasp the rose, one must endure its thorns. I won't pursue a futile endeavor."

Surlana exhaled softly, "My lord, I'm now reassured; it's not the situation I feared most."

Gallen: "???"

"When I greeted you earlier, I noticed that although your entourage seemed more robust, there wasn't a single woman among them. I've long harbored an unspoken concern."

Gallen rubbed his forehead, his tone unusually helpless, "Surlana, you were my mother's most trusted handmaiden and are like family to me. You can always speak freely in my presence."

Surlana shrugged slightly, "I've confirmed everything is fine. When I was helping you bathe earlier, I observed that your reactions were normal, and your moment of unfulfilled passion was just me overthinking."

Gallen laughed lightly, "In any case, thank you for your concern."

"My lord, I've heard many stories of outstanding young men falling into difficult loves, seeking but never attaining, and becoming disheartened. Marigolds will wilt; a woman's beauty is fleeting, while most men's affections start with intoxicating beauty.

The future lady of House Crabb doesn't need to be overly noble. A noblewoman from a house slightly weaker than ours would be ideal. She will bear your children, and you will provide her with the proper status and protection. This balance ensures family harmony.

As for heart-stirring beauty… you can seek that in a mistress. You now have many Gold Dragons to spend."

Gallen listened quietly, then asked, "Surlana, thank you for your heartfelt advice… but I must ask, is this my mother's message?"

Surlana nodded, "I knew I couldn't hide it from you. I don't possess my Lady Crabb's wisdom. She always worried about you. In her final days, she left some words and instructed me to advise you when necessary."

The room fell silent for a moment, then Gallen spoke, "Surlana, can you be honest with me now?"

Surlana paused before responding, "My lord, your wisdom is on par with the lady's. I believe you've guessed that everything began with the war over a decade ago."

...

As evening approached, Gallen, surrounded by his house guards, passed through the Lion Gate and entered King's Landing.

As soon as he entered Hook's Port, Gallen spotted Jaime Lannister riding a white horse.

Though Jaime's golden hair still gave him a dashing look, Gallen, with his keen eye, noticed some changes in Jaime.

Jaime seemed sharper than before.

Gallen dismounted, handing the reins to Martil.

Leading Samwell, now sporting a slicked-back hairstyle, Gallen approached Jaime.

Jaime smirked and dismounted, tossing something to Gallen.

Gallen caught it and looked at the object in his hand, puzzled, "A key?"

Perhaps absence made the heart grow fonder. After some time apart, Gallen felt closer to Jaime.

Jaime spread his hands, "Queen Cersei thought you deserved a comfortable place after all your travels. She prepared a small place for you."

A small place from Jaime huh… Luxurious, as always with the Lannisters!

Gallen handed the key to Samwell, raising an eyebrow, "Ser Jaime, this must have been your idea."

Jaime couldn't help but laugh, "You guessed right, little lord. I'm not good with words, so I picked up a key along the way to represent Queen Cersei's reward for you."

Samwell scratched his head, unsure of what to do with the key in his hand.

Gallen noticed Samwell's hesitation and shook his head with a smile, "Sam, just keep it."

Samwell's presence was undeniable despite his silence due to his broad frame.

Jaime glanced at Mordin, then at Samwell, and asked Gallen, "Are they brothers?"

Mordin and Samwell exchanged a glance.

Mordin chuckled, and Samwell shyly looked away.

Gallen laughed, gesturing, "Come, Sam, this is Ser Jaime Lannister of the Kingsguard."

Samwell clumsily greeted Jaime with a hand over his heart, "Good day, Ser Jaime. It's an honor to meet you. I'm Samwell Tarly from the Reach, squire to Lord Crabb."

Jaime raised an eyebrow, "Tarly of Horn Hill?"

Samwell opened his mouth, unsure of what to say, and looked to Gallen for help.

Gallen nodded slightly and spoke, "Ser Jaime, Sam is now a Tarly of Crackclaw Point."

Jaime merely nodded, "Come, I'll show you the way."

Gallen nodded and followed Jaime to the place Queen Cersei had gifted him.

...

On the way, Jamie suddenly said, "Lord Gallen, I've been investigating and gathering a lot of intelligence recently."

Gallen's heart stirred, and he glanced at Jamie, asking, "Any leads?"

Jamie shrugged, "Plenty, maybe too many."

Gallen raised an eyebrow, "Ser Jamie, it seems you've thrown around quite a few Gold Dragons."

"That's the method I'm most familiar with."

Gallen pondered for a moment, "I reckon most of the information you've collected is meant to mislead us."

Jamie tugged at the reins, adjusting the direction of his horse, "You certainly have a knack for these things. I also feel something's off, but I can't pinpoint what exactly."

Is he complimenting me?

Due to Gallen and Jamie's previous experience in the Queen's District, Gallen had become slightly sensitive to Jamie's words.

Gallen nodded, "That's a normal tactic. Conspirators will naturally try every means to hide themselves and mislead us."

A cold gleam flashed in Jamie's green eyes; he despised these shady individuals the most.

Gallen's lips curved slightly, "Ser Jamie, if I recall correctly, you once said that as long as it doesn't harm Queen Cersei, you fear no one, right?"

Jamie stared at Gallen, "Do you already know who the mastermind is?"

Gallen said solemnly, "Yes, I stumbled upon something during this trip. This time, we might need to join forces, but only if you're willing, of course."

...

...

Highgarden Castle, on the balcony.

Under a sky as blue as paper, a few thin white clouds floated gently in the wind.

"Margaery, let me hear it."

The speaker was Margaery Tyrell's grandmother, Olenna Redwyne.

Born into House Redwyne of the Arbor, the sixty-nine-year-old Olenna had long lost her teeth. She was short, with her full head of silver hair tucked into a deep green headscarf.

[Rumors say Olenna needs a cane to walk and claims to be almost deaf, but many suspect this is a façade to deceive others, deliberately put on by Olenna Redwyne.]

Olenna rarely missed an opportunity to express her opinions. Her words were witty, sharp, and often acerbic, earning her the nickname "Queen of Thorns."

Despite frequently mocking the members of House Tyrell, Margaery knew deep down that her grandmother was a staunch supporter of the House's interests.

Margaery understood her grandmother's impatience, and with her excellent memory, she immediately recounted the recent events in detail.

After listening to Margaery's account, Olenna grasped the armrest of her chair, "I don't like this young man's tricks, but I must admit he has some skill. In a garden of lush roses, a bug that doesn't fear the thorns has intruded. How to deal with it is up to you."

Margaery nodded obediently, "Grandmother, I understand..."

"No, you don't, my granddaughter."

Olenna interrupted Margaery, pausing before she continued, "I'm a harsh old woman, and my words are always sharp. No matter how it starts, whether you like it or not, you must make the little bug learn to gather pollen for the roses. That's the essence of the enduring golden rose."

Margaery's brown eyes trembled slightly, "Grandmother, I never thought you were harsh. I can feel your love for me and our family."

The elderly Olenna, unable to straighten her back, looked at the youthful and beautiful Margaery, as if seeing her own past youth.

Olenna showed a trace of affection, "Thank you for praising this old woman. Come, sit by my side and let us bask in the Reach's sun."

Margaery's cheeks flushed as she sat down next to Olenna, her fair hands gently holding Olenna's wrinkled ones.

Olenna's fingers were thin, but Margaery always felt at peace holding them.

"My dear Margaery, I can sense your unease. What's troubling you? Are you worried about my foolish son?"

Grandmother never spared any effort in mocking her father.

Over time, her grandmother's mockery had become a part of House Tyrell. Her father even once joked that if he didn't hear her scorn for a while, he would feel uneasy, as if something was missing from his life.

...

Margaery couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

Realizing her behavior was somewhat disrespectful, Margaery quickly covered her mouth, struggling to stifle her laughter.

Olenna rarely laughed along with Margaery for a moment, then patted her granddaughter's hand, "My dear Margaery, don't be so hard on yourself. You're not a statue in the garden."

Margaery looked at her grandmother with her beautiful eyes, blushing as she nodded.

Olenna patted Margaery's hand again. She loved seeing Margaery's rare expressions but never showed it, "Tell me, why are you uneasy?"

"I'm a bit hesitant... After recently dealing with the Queen's officer from King's Landing, I felt pressure for the first time. I found it hard to handle him. Father needs my help, and I'm worried I can't control him."

Olenna answered firmly, "If you can't control him, eliminate him."

Margaery paused.

"See, the choice is always in your hands, isn't it? Lord Crabb is just one man, while you have House Tyrell behind you.

Look at your father. Even a wild boar in his place would do a better job. I was lost in the pleasures my husband brought in bed, failing to see my son's foolishness early on. Otherwise, I might have knocked some sense into his fat head with a wooden spoon when he was young... Where was I?

Ah, an individual's power is insignificant compared to a strong House, almost negligible.

Margaery, you are talented and still growing. Don't rush to compare your weaknesses with others' strengths. That's not wise."

Olenna's advice cleared the last shadow from Margaery's heart, "Thank you for your advice, grandmother."

Olenna stared at Margaery for a moment, nodding slightly, "Yes, now you truly understand."

Olenna continued, "This old woman can't sit still. I've looked into that young man too. He reminds me of Tywin, a young man shouldering the burdens of his House at a tender age.

When the House was passed to them, it was in a dismal state. If they didn't make something of themselves, the House was destined to fall into permanent decline."

Margaery's beautiful eyes widened slightly, "Lannister?"

"Yes, that cunning lion that swallows gold but always proclaims 'A Lannister always pays his debts.' Now there's a Lannister queen, and the heirs to the Iron Throne carry Lannister blood. But everyone seems to have forgotten that during Tywin's father's time, the roaring lion of Lannister was a joke!"

Olenna concluded by tapping the armrest of her chair.

"It's rare for a little lord to please our great lord Tyrell so much. Let him have the position of Hand of the King and happily remain foolish forever. This could also be an opportunity for the golden rose."

Margaery pressed her lips together and solemnly nodded at her grandmother.