Chapter 130: A Foiled Scheme

"Wine!"

King Robert shouted at the top of his lungs, "Dammit, can't you see my jug's empty?"

The servant, Lancel Lannister, quickly fetched a new jug of wine.

Robert gulped down a mouthful, then turned back to the servant, snarling and glaring as he yelled, "Dammit, help me undress! There's not a single Lannister who doesn't give me grief!"

Lancel kept his head low as he approached to help the king undress.

He had just started undoing the collar when there was a knock at the door.

Lancel went to open it and found the king's younger brother, Lord Renly, standing outside.

"Is His Majesty still awake?"

"Yes, my lord."

Lord Renly entered the room, exchanged a brief greeting with his brother, then gestured for Lancel to leave.

Once the two brothers were alone, Robert glanced at Renly with a sour expression and snapped, "What are you doing here?"

Renly smiled slightly, poured his brother a fresh cup of wine himself, and handed it to him. "It's been a while. I came to check on my dear brother—is that not allowed?"

Robert snorted, clearly familiar with his brother's games. He cut straight to the point. "Out with it. What do you want this time?"

Renly feigned a wounded expression. "Dear brother, do you truly think I'm a man who only asks and never gives?"

"If you'd just stick to managing Storm's End properly, that would be all the return I need."

"Rest assured, brother. The nobles of the Stormlands are deeply loyal to me."

"Rubbish!" Robert snorted again. "If loyalty is smiling and flattering you at banquets, it's worth nothing! Without the test of blood and fire, their loyalty means nothing!"

Renly wisely decided not to argue on that point. Instead, he shifted the conversation. "Brother, I've actually come to bring you a gift."

Robert took another swig of wine and replied indifferently, "What gift?"

"A beautiful rose."

"What bloody rose," Robert said impatiently, waving his hand. "You'd do better bringing me a few barrels of good wine."

Renly sighed, explaining, "Brother, I'm talking about the Rose of Highgarden, Miss Margaery Tyrell. You've seen her before, haven't you? Isn't she beautiful?"

Robert rolled his eyes and grumbled, "Beautiful, yes, sure. But if you want to find a woman for your brother, could it be one without so much trouble? No matter how pretty that rose is, if I take her to bed, the Tyrells will never leave me in peace."

Renly chuckled. "Then why not marry her? The Tyrells would only be grateful to you!"

"What a bloody foolish idea!" Robert cursed. "Are you trying to get me a woman or cause me trouble? If I marry that rose, what about that she-lion Cersei?"

"Send her back to Casterly Rock," Renly said lightly. "You're already tired of her anyway."

"Every woman who stays in my bed for more than three days bores me—are you suggesting I replace the queen every day?" Robert's eyes glimmered with a hint of nostalgia. "Except for Lyanna. But she's gone."

Renly ventured, "Brother, don't you think Miss Margaery looks a bit like Lady Lyanna?"

"Bollocks," Robert spat. "You've never even seen Lyanna Stark. Stop spouting nonsense."

A flicker of surprise crossed Renly's face, but he persisted, "Regardless, Margaery is far more agreeable than Cersei, and the Tyrells aren't as power-hungry as the Lannisters. If you were to marry her—"

"What's gotten into you today?" Robert eyed his brother suspiciously. "Did that fool Mace Tyrell come to you with this idea?"

"Of course not," Renly denied at once.

Robert let out a heavy grunt. "Cersei was agreeable once, too, and Tywin, that old lion, even helped me take King's Landing and handed me the Iron Throne. If I send his daughter back now, would Tywin take it lightly? Besides, Cersei's borne me three children. As long as she doesn't cause too much trouble, I can tolerate her."

Renly's gaze shifted, as though he wanted to say more, but after a moment's hesitation, he held his tongue.

After a brief silence, he spoke up again. "But brother, the son Cersei bore you, Joffrey… well, are you unaware of what he's like?"

"Enough!" Robert slammed his cup onto the table. "I don't know why the gods gave me such a son! But what choice do I have? He's my eldest, the heir to the Iron Throne. So, Renly, you'd best show him some respect."

Renly seemed ready to argue, but Robert had lost patience and cut him off.

"That's the end of it. If you say another word about this, I'll send you back to Storm's End!"

"Understood," Renly said reluctantly.

Robert's expression softened slightly as he changed the subject. "How are things in King's Landing?"

"Everything's fine. Though, there were two recent deaths—one in the Reach, the other in Dorne." Renly briefly recounted the incidents involving Hobber Redwyne and Gerold Dayne.

Robert snorted after listening. "Over a woman? Ha! Those two houses sure know how to stir up trouble."

Clearly uninterested, he took another drink and changed the topic. "How are preparations for Jon Arryn's murder trial? Are the Red Viper and the nobles who were present back then all here?"

"They're all here, though Lady Lysa hasn't arrived yet."

Robert frowned. "Lysa Tully's still in the Eyrie?"

"Yes. She seems genuinely terrified; I sent three letters, and she still refuses to come to King's Landing."

"Unacceptable. This trial is to avenge her husband. How can she refuse to come? And she has Jon's son, right?"

"Yes, Robert Arryn. He's only six, and I hear he's in poor health and often sick."

"He's named after me, after all. I have to find him a suitable guardian. Growing up under a woman's care won't do him any good." Robert paused, then gave his brother a command. "You'll go to the Eyrie personally and bring the two of them back to King's Landing."

Renly hadn't expected his carefully laid plans to fall through, only to be handed this unwelcome task instead. But seeing the firm look in his brother's eyes, he reluctantly nodded. "Understood, brother."

…

The next morning.

With the sun shining brightly, the king's entourage set out once again.

Samwell rode in the convoy and noticed Lord Renly, accompanied by several dozen guards, leaving the main party and heading east.

He stroked his chin, guessing at the young prince's destination and wondering if he'd indeed suggested Margaery Tyrell to his brother.

But seeing Renly sent away, Samwell figured the proposal had likely been rejected by the king.

"Hey, Ser Samwell, what's on your mind?"

A lively, playful voice called out behind him.

Turning, Samwell found Margaery Tyrell riding up beside him. Today, instead of a dress, she wore fitted brown riding pants that showed off her long, shapely legs. Her light green blouse was pinned with a golden rose brooch, and a round velvet hat with delicate wave patterns embroidered in gold adorned her head, sparkling in the sunlight.

Seeing this rare, spirited side of the "Rose of Highgarden," Samwell couldn't help but steal a few glances.

"I was just wondering why you're in such high spirits today, Lady Margaery."

Margaery rolled her eyes at him. "Shouldn't I be in a good mood?"

Samwell smirked mysteriously and lowered his voice, "Shouldn't you be? After all, your dream of becoming queen has been dashed."

Margaery's expression stiffened briefly, surprised that Samwell would know about something so secretive. But then she heard him continue.

"Prince Joffrey is already betrothed to Lady Sansa Stark. Aren't you heartbroken?"

Margaery reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, feeling a slight sense of relief.

But a question lingered—was Samwell testing her?

Just like in Starfall before… could he possibly know?

Impossible.

She dismissed the thought immediately. It had to be a coincidence.

"Prince Joffrey and Lady Sansa make a fine match. As for my dream…" Margaery smiled. "Every girl dreams a little too wildly now and then, don't they? I never truly thought it would come true."

Samwell looked at her deeply. "Still, you seem even happier than usual."

"The sun is warm, the breeze is gentle, and flowers and butterflies surround us. Why shouldn't I be happy?" Margaery's smile grew even more radiant, shining brighter than the summer sun.

In truth, after hearing from her brother Loras that the king had turned down Renly's proposal, she felt an undeniable sense of relief and joy.

She really didn't want to marry King Robert.

After all, every girl dreams of a prince on a white horse, and that old, fat king who loved drink and women was far from that image.

Still, when her grandmother had first told her that the Tyrell family wanted her to ascend to the throne as queen, Margaery hadn't objected.

She understood this was part of her duty as a Tyrell.

Her family had given her a privileged life, noble status, and the admiration of countless people. But they also expected her, when necessary, to make sacrifices for the family's ambitions.

She didn't want to disappoint her grandmother or shatter her father's hopes, but there were moments, late at night, when she would secretly pray to the Seven.

And now, it seemed her prayers had been answered.

Despite a faint sense of guilt, Margaery was genuinely relieved.

"There's still hope. I'm sure you'll achieve your dreams one day," Samwell said, offering his sincere encouragement.

"Really?" Margaery chuckled. "Well then, if I do become queen, you'll be invited to my wedding, with the best seat in the house!"

Samwell laughed heartily. "Agreed! And I'll have the perfect gift ready for you, too!"

(End of Chapter)