Highgarden was not particularly close to King's Landing. After crossing the Blackwater Rush and traveling south along the Kingsroad for some distance, the road eventually split in two.
One path continued southward into the Stormlands, leading directly to Storm's End, the ancient seat of House Baratheon near Shipbreaker Bay. In truth, the Kingsroad itself had originally begun there before stretching north across the Seven Kingdoms all the way to the Wall.
The other road turned southwest into the Reach—the famous Rose Road that led travelers toward the most beautiful castle in Westeros.
Highgarden.
So after leaving King's Landing, Renly Baratheon traveled with his personal guards and the three hundred Tyrell soldiers stationed in the capital. Following the Rose Road, they arrived at Highgarden in little more than ten days.
The castle stood proudly beside the Mander River, gleaming beneath the southern sun.
Long ago, during the age of the Seven Kingdoms, Highgarden had belonged to House Gardener. Only after Aegon's Conquest did House Tyrell inherit the castle and become Lords Paramount of the Reach.
Now, gathered within its white marble halls were some of the most influential members of House Tyrell:
"The Knight of Flowers," Ser Loras Tyrell.
"The Rose of Highgarden," Margaery Tyrell.
"The Queen of Thorns," Lady Olenna Redwyne.
And Lord Mace Tyrell himself—the Lord of Highgarden, Warden of the South, and newly appointed Master of Coin.
They had all returned here together with Renly Baratheon.
Or rather, they had brought Renly here intentionally.
At first, Renly had intended to return directly to Storm's End after leaving King's Landing. He planned to summon his bannermen and prepare for the political storm that was clearly approaching.
But Lady Olenna had persuaded him otherwise.
Rather than waiting helplessly for fate to consume him, Renly made another decision on the road south.
He would marry Margaery Tyrell—the bride his late brother Robert had never truly taken—and declare himself the rightful king.
Thus, on the very day Renly arrived at Highgarden, House Tyrell pledged itself to his cause.
Highgarden itself was breathtaking.
The castle sat atop a green hill overlooking the Mander River. Built from pale white stone and marble, it was considered by many to be the most beautiful castle in all the Seven Kingdoms.
Both House Gardener and House Tyrell had long cherished art, music, and culture. Countless singers had composed songs praising the beauty of Highgarden and the elegance of the Reach.
On the second morning after their arrival, Ser Loras Tyrell entered one of the castle gardens searching for Renly.
He found him seated alone inside a marble gazebo.
Renly rested his chin against one hand, his black hair falling neatly to his shoulders. His face remained as handsome as ever, clean-shaven and refined.
Yet there was concern hidden within his green eyes.
A letter lay open on the stone table before him.
"What are you reading?" Loras asked curiously as he approached carrying a plate of freshly washed fruit.
Renly looked up, slightly startled, before offering him a faint smile.
"A letter from King's Landing," he said. "Sent by Eddard Stark."
Loras immediately became interested. His eyes drifted toward the parchment, where he noticed the wax seal stamped with the crowned stag of House Baratheon.
The royal seal.
"What does it say?" he asked.
Renly gave a cold snort.
"Eddard Stark wants me to return to King's Landing and kneel before my brother's bastard."
He laughed bitterly.
"And according to this so-called king, if I submit now, everything I've done will be forgiven."
"How generous of him."
Loras fell silent for a moment before speaking firmly.
"In my eyes, only you are the rightful king, Your Grace."
There was no hesitation in his voice.
He truly believed it.
Renly's expression softened as he looked at the young Knight of Flowers.
"You are right, Ser Loras."
He picked up a cluster of grapes from the fruit platter and smiled faintly.
"So I intend to answer Eddard Stark personally."
"And I will remind him who the true king of the Seven Kingdoms should be."
Highgarden contained countless gardens, fountains, and courtyards.
After House Tyrell declared for Renly, one of the finest gardens had been reserved exclusively for him, ensuring privacy from curious eyes.
Elsewhere in the gardens, another Tyrell was occupied with quieter matters.
Ser Garlan Tyrell rounded a corner and found his older brother seated beneath the shade of a tree.
Willas Tyrell—the heir to Highgarden.
Willas was feeding strips of fresh venison to a falcon perched on his arm.
Beside him sat a large hunting hound. The animal stared hungrily at the meat, drool hanging from its jaws, yet despite its obvious desperation, it remained perfectly still.
Its leash lay loose.
"Willas," Garlan called with amusement, "you may want to watch your dog before it decides to eat your falcon."
Willas chuckled softly and glanced at the hound.
"Without my command, it will do nothing."
He calmly cut the rope suspending the venison leg nearby, letting the meat fall onto the grass.
The hound trembled with excitement, but still refused to move.
Only after Willas finally spoke—
"Eat."
—did the dog leap forward, seize the venison, and drag it away triumphantly.
Garlan laughed while Willas settled himself carefully onto a nearby stone bench.
Willas Tyrell had once been considered a promising knight. Intelligent, educated, and gentle by nature, he had been everything House Tyrell could have hoped for in an heir.
But during his first tournament, disaster struck.
Prince Oberyn Martell had unhorsed him during the joust. Willas's foot became trapped in the stirrup, and when he fell, his own horse crushed his leg.
His knee had never healed properly.
Though crippled, Willas remained calm and thoughtful, preferring books, hawking, and breeding animals over politics and war.
"Did you come to summon me for supper?" he asked with a smile.
Garlan shook his head.
"Not this time. I wanted to ask what you think about the news from King's Landing."
Willas grew quiet.
After several moments, he sighed softly.
"You should not ask a cripple such difficult questions," he replied. "Father and Grandmother already know what must be done."
Garlan gave a dry laugh.
"When I left Father earlier, he was regretting everything so loudly that Grandmother had to send the servants away before anyone heard him."
Despite the joke, concern remained clear in Garlan's eyes.
The situation in Westeros had changed too suddenly.
Robert Baratheon was dead.
Karl El—the legitimized bastard who now possessed dragons—had claimed the Iron Throne with the support of House Stark and House Arryn.
And House Tyrell had already committed itself to Renly.
How could Garlan not feel uneasy?
As children, the Tyrell brothers had learned the stories of Aegon's Conquest and the Field of Fire, where dragonflame annihilated House Gardener forever.
Those dragons had returned now.
And they belonged to Karl El.
Seeing the anxiety on his brother's face, Willas spoke gently.
"There is no need to panic yet."
"Grandmother and Father understand the situation."
He paused before continuing thoughtfully.
"Besides… a crisis can also become an opportunity."
Garlan frowned slightly.
"What do you mean?"
Willas did not answer immediately.
Instead, he looked upward toward one of the castle windows overlooking the garden.
Standing there were two women.
One was an elderly woman with sharp eyes and silver hair.
The other was beautiful enough to steal the breath from any man in Westeros.
Olenna Redwyne.
And Margaery Tyrell.
"I've told you before," Olenna said calmly while observing the garden below, "Willas is the only truly intelligent one among my grandchildren."
Beside her, Margaery remained silent.
Olenna turned and gently took her granddaughter's hand.
"What I wish to discuss now is not meant for men to hear."
Confused but obedient, Margaery followed her grandmother deeper into the chambers.
Several doors were shut behind them, and servants were ordered to keep everyone away.
Finally, they entered Olenna's private room.
A small table sat near the window.
Warm herbal tea waited there.
Margaery immediately realized this conversation was important.
"You are clever, Margaery," Olenna said warmly as she sat down. "And beautiful as well."
"Grandmother," Margaery asked quietly, "what are we supposed to do now?"
Instead of answering immediately, Olenna poured tea into a cup and slid it toward her granddaughter.
"The news from King's Landing frightened you, didn't it?"
Margaery hesitated before nodding slightly.
"How could it not?"
"Karl El possesses dragons. Real dragons."
"None of us expected this."
Olenna smiled knowingly.
"Margaery… I believe you fell in love with him."
The young woman froze.
Olenna continued calmly.
"He is charming beyond reason. During the Martial Games, he eclipsed every other man in Westeros."
"If the greatest knights of the realm were stars, then Karl El was the sun itself."
"Women across the Seven Kingdoms would gladly share his bed for a single night."
The old woman laughed softly.
"If I were younger, I might have done the same."
Margaery lowered her eyes silently.
Olenna's expression softened.
"But Karl El is also clever. Ruthlessly clever."
"That is why he rejected you."
Her words pierced directly into Margaery's heart.
Back in King's Landing, House Tyrell had intentionally arranged opportunities for Margaery and Karl El to meet in private.
It had begun as political calculation.
But somewhere along the way, Margaery's feelings had become real.
And Olenna had noticed immediately.
After realizing Karl El would not commit himself to House Tyrell so easily, Olenna swiftly shifted strategies and arranged for Margaery to pursue King Robert instead.
Yet none of that erased what Margaery felt.
Karl El's brilliance lingered in her mind constantly.
Like the sun itself, impossible to ignore.
Seeing her granddaughter's silence, Olenna waited patiently before speaking again.
"So tell me, Margaery."
"Do you love him?"
After a long pause, Margaery whispered:
"Yes."
"But I am supposed to marry Renly Baratheon. And Karl El is already betrothed to Sansa Stark."
Olenna waved a dismissive hand.
"Young people today are far too cautious."
She leaned back comfortably in her chair.
"Highgarden has always celebrated songs of love."
"And what could be more beautiful than this?"
"A noble lady refusing to surrender to political arrangements."
"A young woman choosing love over duty."
"What a tragic and moving story."
Margaery slowly widened her eyes as understanding dawned upon her.
Olenna smiled.
"You do not need to stand against Karl El."
"You should stand beside him."
Margaery's breathing quickened.
"You can give him exactly what he needs most."
"House Tyrell's support."
"Gold. Food. Soldiers."
"And heirs."
The room fell silent.
"But… what about Renly?" Margaery finally asked.
Olenna calmly lifted her teacup.
"Renly Baratheon?"
Her sharp eyes glittered with amusement.
"He is merely part of the story."
Then the Queen of Thorns smiled brilliantly.
"Margaery, this should become a love story sung across all the Seven Kingdoms."
"The Rose of Highgarden abandoning politics to pursue the man she truly loves."
"A tragic song."
"A beautiful song."
"And perhaps…"
"The song that saves House Tyrell."
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)