Chapter 121: The Gathering

Samwell walked down the dim corridors of the Red Keep, reflecting on the conversation he'd just had with "Littlefinger," Petyr Baelish. From Petyr's perspective, Samwell was already "one of his own" since they now shared a "little secret."

Of course, in Petyr's eyes, a "comrade" was someone to be sacrificed whenever convenient.

And now, with Samwell as a newcomer to King's Landing, Petyr would certainly try to pull him in with small favors and rewards, hoping to secure his loyalty and make him his pawn.

But what Petyr didn't realize was that Samwell had already unraveled his entire scheme and knew that Petyr was the true murderer of Jon Arryn.

This hidden knowledge was Samwell's greatest advantage.

He intended to use this advantage to the fullest to deal with one of Westeros's most ambitious schemers.

That was the main reason he'd come to King's Landing.

Not only was he here to seek revenge for being manipulated as a pawn, but this decision was also one Samwell had made after careful thought.

Petyr Baelish's goal was to plunge the Seven Kingdoms into chaos so he could fish in troubled waters, climbing up the ladder amidst the disorder.

But that wasn't the outcome Samwell wanted—at least, not right now.

While chaos offers opportunities for anyone with ambition, grasping those opportunities requires a solid foundation.

And right now, Samwell simply don't have that foundation, he is not prepared enough.

He had only just begun expanding his territory, his castle was not yet fully completed, his army was still too small, and his personal attribute panel needed more time to develop. Even his hold over House Dayne's lands was not yet absolute.

In short, he needed time.

He had already felt short on time, but Petyr had fanned the flames, forcing Jon Arryn's death a full year earlier.

It was as if Samwell had lost an entire year of precious time to build and grow stronger.

While he, too, wanted some level of chaos, it had to be small, a controlled chaos—just enough to give him room to maneuver and accumulate benefits.

The battle at Starfall had been perfect for this.

But a full-scale conflict like the War of the Five Kings? With his current strength, he would only be another soldier marching behind the main army of the Reach. No matter how valiantly he fought, the land and rewards would all go to Lord Tyrell, and all he would gain were some empty honors.

That wasn't a profitable trade.

So this time, in King's Landing, aside from dealing with Littlefinger, Samwell intended to prevent the Seven Kingdoms from descending into chaos too quickly.

Of course, he wasn't here to be a peacemaker; he was an ambitious man himself—just a cautious, calculated kind of ambitious man.

He knew that if he wanted to rise rapidly, he too needed chaos—controlled chaos.

For example, if the Iron Throne were to wage war against Dorne, that would be the ideal kind of chaos.

Samwell now held a foothold in western Dorne, providing him with a starting point to stake a claim there.

But he also understood just how difficult it was for outsiders to conquer Dorne. House Martell's words, "Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken," were no mere boast.

So he needed to use external forces to weaken Dorne as much as possible.

To provoke the Iron Throne into action against Dorne, Jon Arryn's death would need to be pinned on the "Red Viper."

And as for whether the accusation was fair to Oberyn… Samwell had no interest in clearing his enemy's name. Besides, the Red Viper was no innocent lamb and would inevitably become an obstacle on Samwell's path to conquering Dorne. It was best to remove him.

However, if he took this approach, Samwell would have to be more restrained in dealing with Petyr Baelish. He couldn't expose Jon Arryn's true cause of death too openly but would need to play his hand carefully.

Samwell already had a rough plan, but he still needed to meet with a few key figures to finalize it.

For example, the soon-to-be Hand of the King, Lord Eddard Stark. This man would play a crucial role in Samwell's scheme, and he needed to confirm if Eddard was truly as honorable and rigid as the stories suggested.

Oh, and aside from that, there was still one annoying little pest—Hobber Redwyne. Samwell was already planning to set a trap and swat him.

Lost in thought, Samwell soon reached the garden, where he found Margaery and Nathalie deep in conversation.

The two young women were so close they were practically leaning into each other, their camaraderie unmistakable. They looked so alike in spirit that they could almost be mistaken for sisters.

Nearby, the Redwyne brothers sat observing.

Horas, having shed his sling, was visibly sweating, his face occasionally contorting in pain—likely regretting forgoing his bandage for the sake of appearance. Truly, a committed man.

Hobber, on the other hand, was craning his neck, clearly desperate to join the ladies' conversation but unable to find an opening, his frustration written plainly across his face.

Sitting beside the Redwynes was Mark Mullendore. The heir of Oldtown looked relaxed, leisurely sipping tea while feeding nuts to the monkey perched on his shoulder.

"L… Lord Samwell," Nathalie was the first to notice his approach. She nearly got up to greet him but, seeing the crowd around, restrained herself, opting for a more formal posture and even adjusting her tone.

"Samwell! Come sit!" Margaery's sweet smile greeted him, warm as a summer rose.

Samwell walked over, greeting everyone before sitting beside Nathalie.

"What were you two talking about?" he asked.

"We were discussing your flaming sword," Margaery said playfully. "I had no idea the Daynes would ever use a family sword as collateral."

Samwell blushed, but he managed to maintain a facade of calmness, replying, "Well, the sword was just lying around in Starfall, gathering dust. I thought I'd put it to use, rather than let it go to waste."

"Exactly," Nathalie quickly nodded, supporting him. "Lord Samwell fights so well with that sword—he even makes it burn with flames."

"A flaming sword? That's hardly impressive," Hobber interjected, unable to resist. "Across the Narrow Sea, red priests do the same trick all the time. They coat their blades with wildfire or something flammable, set it alight, and wave it around to scare people. But the actual damage? Nothing special."

Samwell was about to respond when a voice sounded from nearby:

"Indeed, not impressive. I killed a red priest wielding a flaming sword myself. His blade broke before it could do much."

They turned to see three figures approaching.

At the front was Princess Arianne Martell, flanked by "Darkstar" Gerold Dayne and Daemon Sand, the Bastard of Godsgrace.

Both Dornish knights had fought in the Battle of Starfall, where they'd been taken captive by the Reach, though House Martell had eventually ransomed them.

Samwell recognized Gerold Dayne, a man with striking black and silver hair. As the heir to High Hermitage, he'd committed heavily to the battle and had paid the greatest price.

Not only had he failed to claim Starfall, but he'd also lost his family seat when Nathalie assumed control as Lady of Starfall and granted High Hermitage to Hughes Dayne.

So, it is safe to assume that Gerold Dayne bore a deep grudge.

And it was Gerold who had spoken just now.

"What are you Dornishmen doing here?" Horas called out, seeming to channel his pain into anger at the Dornish.

"Yeah, this is a gathering of the Reach. You're not welcome here," Mark Mullendore added.

When it came to opposing Dorne, the Reachmen were always united.

Thinking he should blend in a bit, Samwell joined in: "Did the gods refuse to heed your penance, so you came here seeking absolution?"

Laughter broke out, but surprisingly, Arianne Martell did not react with anger. Instead, she continued smiling, as if she hadn't heard the insults at all.

"My lords," she said with a gentle smile, "my uncle's guilt or innocence will be decided by the king himself. We're here to honor Lord Jon Arryn's final wish—peace."

Hearing Arianne invoke Jon Arryn's name, the Reachmen quieted down.

Samwell was somewhat taken aback by the princess's calm.

Could it be that a bit of hardship had changed her temperament?

"Princess," Margaery rose gracefully, offering a polite smile, "we of the Reach love peace, but it takes more than words. How does Dorne intend to show sincerity?"

"The Martells have acknowledged Nathalie as Lady of Starfall, which, I hope, proves our commitment. Additionally, Gerold Dayne, as a member of House Dayne, has come to swear loyalty to Lady Nathalie."

As soon as she finished speaking, Gerold knelt before Nathalie, his voice loud and clear: "Lady Nathalje Dayne, I, Gerold Dayne, offer you my utmost loyalty."

Though surprised, Nathalie maintained her composure, avoiding the instinct to look toward Samwell or her mother.

"I accept your oath of fealty," she said.

But Samwell frowned.

Clearly, the Martells hadn't given up on Starfall; they were publicly making moves to infiltrate it, right here and now.

But with Gerold bearing the Dayne name, Nathalie had no real choice but to accept his oath of fealty in front of everyone.

However, after the oath, Gerold did something unexpected. He remained kneeling, reached into his tunic, and drew out a pale pink rose. Holding it out toward Nathalie, he said, "Lady Natalee, your beauty has captivated me. I present this rose as a token of my admiration."

Samwell's frown deepened.

This was more than just infiltration; it was a blatant attempt to lay claim to her.

Nathalie looked visibly uncomfortable this time. She didn't want to accept the rose but seemed hesitant to refuse in front of a knight who had just sworn fealty to her.

Right then, Hobber Redwyne spoke up, "Ser Gerold, can't you see that Lady Nathalie has no interest in your rose? Put it away already."

Gerold's eyes narrowed as he turned to glare at Hobber.

Hobber glared back, showing no signs of backing down.

Tension crackled in the air, as obvious as if they had drawn steel.

Samwell watched the scene, a faint smile crossing his lips.

Ah, would you look at that, here was his opportunity—the troublesome fly had just walked into a trap.

Time to swat it.

(End of Chapter)