Chapter 278: The Banquet
Samwell returned to the banquet hall with a perfect smile of marital bliss, masking the storm of thoughts in his mind as though nothing had happened.
Margaery, having changed into a fresh outfit, approached him and took his arm.
Once everything was in order, the newlyweds walked hand in hand toward the castle gates.
A group of young girls from the Tyrell family trailed behind them, eagerly scattering rose petals along their path.
Following close behind were Lord Mace Tyrell and Lady Alerie, alongside the ever-regal Lady Olenna. Behind them came Lord Randyll Tarly and a host of prominent Reach nobles.
Before they even reached the gates, a wave of cheers surged toward them like a flood.
Standing on the high platform of the garden square outside the castle, Samwell and Margaery waved to the jubilant crowd of Reach commoners who had gathered to celebrate.
The throng was so vast and enthusiastic that the guards stationed around the platform struggled to maintain order.
Samwell could hear his name being chanted among the crowd, but Margaery's name was called even more loudly. Her popularity among the people of Highgarden seemed to surpass even that of the "Inflated Fish" Mace Tyrell himself.
Overhead, Cleopatra circled gracefully in the sky. The white dragon flew low enough that the people could see each iridescent scale and feel the heat of its wings beating against the air.
The dragon's imposing presence filled the crowd with awe and a deep sense of security. For a people who had recently endured rebellion and raids, this was a much-needed reassurance.
As the dragon's majestic shadow passed over them, the chants of "Caesar" grew louder and more fervent.
"Want to ride the dragon?" Samwell suddenly asked his bride with a smile.
Margaery blinked in surprise before nodding enthusiastically. "I'd love to!"
"Cleopatra!" Samwell called.
The white dragon dove swiftly from the sky, landing on the high platform with a thunderous flap of its wings.
Without hesitation, Samwell scooped up Margaery in his arms and leaped onto the dragon's back.
Margaery let out a small cry of surprise but quickly dissolved into laughter. Tentatively, she reached out to touch the dragon's scales and gasped. "It's so hot!"
Samwell chuckled, amused. He knew this wasn't the first time Margaery had touched Cleopatra, and each time she seemed surprised by the heat, only to try again. In this way, her persistence was adorably foolish.
"Hold on tight," he said.
Margaery clung to him, curling her small frame snugly against his chest. Her slender arms wrapped around his waist, and Samwell secured her firmly before giving Cleopatra a pat on the neck.
The dragon let out a roar and took to the skies.
The sudden acceleration made Margaery squeeze her eyes shut and cling even tighter to her husband. But as she grew accustomed to the sensation, she opened her eyes again, marveling at the rapidly shrinking crowd below. Highgarden's majestic towers grew distant as the rushing wind caressed her face, exhilarating and tender.
"So this is what it feels like to fly!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with awe and delight.
Samwell laughed heartily, urging Cleopatra into a series of daring maneuvers. Margaery alternated between gasping in alarm and giggling uncontrollably, her laughter carried away by the wind.
Eventually, the dragon swooped low, skimming just above the heads of the crowd.
The daring display sent a wave of cheers rippling through the square.
Cleopatra landed back on the platform, and Samwell dismounted with Margaery in his arms.
Her laughter was breathless and unrestrained, entirely unconcerned about her dress, which had been singed at the hem by the dragon's heat.
Lady Alerie hurried forward, smoothing her daughter's hair and scolding her lightly before urging her to change clothes again.
Margaery nodded obediently, holding onto Samwell's arm as they returned to the castle together.
The other Reach nobles followed suit, heading back into the castle while guards distributed bread and ale to the common folk outside.
As dusk began to settle, preparations for the evening banquet were in full swing.
Margaery reappeared in a shimmering silver gown trimmed with squirrel fur. The pale lavender sleeves, long enough to brush the ground, paired with her sky-blue cloak from Samwell and a sapphire necklace of the same hue, exuded an air of refined elegance tinged with girlish charm.
She approached Samwell with a light step, kissed him softly on the cheek, and said with a playful grin, "I heard Father prepared seventy-seven courses for tonight, including a pigeon pie!"
"The kind where pigeons fly out when you cut it open?"
"Exactly."
"Hmm… let's hope they didn't leave droppings in the pie…"
"Sam!" Margaery playfully swatted him, her mock indignation giving way to laughter.
Hand in hand, they entered the banquet hall, where guests eagerly stepped forward to offer their congratulations.
Samwell found these formalities tiresome, but Margaery navigated the crowd with practiced ease.
She flattered Lady Janna Hightower on her dress, praised Lord Titus Peake for raising a brave son, and inquired after the health of Lord Mathis Rowan's elderly mother. Her sincere warmth left a lasting impression on everyone she spoke to.
Even the stormland lords who had followed Samwell to Highgarden received her attention, their blessings for the couple met with genuine gratitude.
The journey from the hall's entrance to the main dais took nearly half an hour, as Margaery charmed every guest along the way.
Finally, the newlyweds ascended the platform adorned with long banners—one bearing the golden rose of House Tyrell, the other the twin-headed eagle of House Caesar.
The banners were displayed side by side, symbolizing the Tyrells' recognition of the Caesars as equals rather than mere vassals.
Under other circumstances, Samwell might have felt honored by this gesture. But after learning of Lady Olenna's secret plot to have him killed, he regarded it with cold skepticism.
Mace Tyrell stepped forward to embrace his daughter. Then Lady Olenna and Lady Alerie kissed Margaery on the cheeks, followed by Lord Randyll Tarly embracing his new daughter-in-law, and finally Melissa Tarly and Samwell's three younger sisters offering their well wishes.
With the greetings concluded, everyone took their seats.
As the wine was poured, Mace Tyrell raised his golden goblet and declared, "To my daughter and son-in-law. May their union be blessed with eternal happiness!"
"To Lord Caesar and Lady Margaery!" the guests echoed, raising their glasses.
The hall rang with a thousand clinking goblets, signaling the official start of the feast.
Samwell raised his cup but didn't drink, cautious of potential threats despite the improbability of an attempt on his life at such a public event.
The musicians struck up a lively tune, and the first course—a rich mushroom and snail stew—was brought to the tables.
When Margaery barely touched her soup, Samwell asked, "Not to your liking, my lady?"
"No, no," Margaery assured him with a smile. "I just don't want to fill up too soon—there are so many dishes to try."
She added, almost defensively, "And the leftovers will be given to the refugees outside the city."
Samwell chuckled. "In that case, why don't we share a bowl?"
Margaery laughed and agreed, feeding him a spoonful with her own hands.
Lady Olenna's voice cut through the hum of the hall. "Lord Caesar, may I have a word?"
Samwell turned to her with a pleasant expression. "Of course, Lady Olenna."
"Did Prince Doran reply to your letter?"
"Yes," Samwell replied smoothly, betraying no emotion. "He has agreed to the proposal."
"Excellent." Olenna nodded approvingly before cautioning him. "But remember—do not agree to attend a coronation at Sunspear."
"Of course not. The Dornish aren't exactly known for their trustworthiness. I wouldn't put it past them to hold me hostage."
Olenna suggested, "Consider hosting the coronation on a neutral island in the Dornish Sea. Some of those uninhabited isles nominally belong to Dorne but remain largely deserted. Both parties could bring only a small retinue, ensuring safety."
"A fine suggestion," Samwell agreed, all the while contemplating her true motives.
Margaery, overhearing their conversation, asked, "May I go with you?"
Olenna dismissed the idea. "Your condition makes travel unwise."
Margaery pouted, casting a pleading look at her husband.
Samwell kissed her forehead and reassured her with a smile, "Don't worry, my love. You'll come with me."
Her smile returned, radiant and full of trust.
Olenna sighed in exasperation and summoned Loras Tyrell, instructing him quietly. Judging by her tone, she intended for him to accompany his sister on the journey.
"Look! The pigeon pie is here!" Margaery exclaimed excitedly.
Samwell laughed and led her to the table, where he handed her a ceremonial sword to cut the pie.
"Let's cut it together!" she suggested, turning around to her husband.
"Okay." Samuel readily agreed.
He came up behind his wife, held her in his arms, and together they grasped the sword's hilt, then swung it down with force.
The silver sword light poured down like a waterfall.
Bang—
The pie cracked open with a sound, and sure enough, seven white doves fluttered out, flapping their wings.
The crowd erupted in cheers.
Samuel whispered something in his wife's ear.
Whatever it was, Margaery laughed like a child.
(End of Chapter)