Olenna Tyrell, Queen of Thorns, one of the sharpest and most strategic minds in Westeros, at least this was what she thought of herself, was sitting on a wooden chair in a lush green garden filled with colourful flowers and various trees laden with fruits. The Tyrell family, at least those who were available in Highgarden, had gathered for lunch.
Though it was Mace Tyrell, Olenna's son, who was the Lord Tyrell and Lord of Highgarden, in reality, it was Olenna who governed the realm and held all the power in her palm.
Her son, or so she thought, was a buffoon and a complete idiot with none of the qualities of a good ruler. And though she did not try to emphasize or publicize her power and her influence, she did not try to hide it either. As was the case now.
[Olenna Tyrell POV]
Mace, as Lord of Highgarden, was the one who should have been sitting in the chair at the head of the house, but instead, it was I who was occupying it. And it was the normal scenario.
To Mace, and to most of the Tyrells, it did not matter. They did not care. But I did care. These were the subtle and small gestures and indications of your power. And apart from me, only two of my grandchildren, Margaery and Willas, understood this fact.
If Mace would have been able to demand, to ask, that chair from me, if only he had been able to gather enough courage and ask for what was rightfully his, I would have been happy and probably proud of him. But he had neither the political acumen nor the courage to do it.
The plate in front of me was hardly touched. Old age was catching sharply up to me, and I had to pay special attention to what and how much I ate.
And given the strange things that had begun to unfold, mostly in Essos, though their effects were sooner or later to be felt in Westeros itself, I had no wish to die early.
I could tell that a massive storm, a big upheaval, was coming, and it could swallow us all. And I wanted to make my house cross it. I did not wish to die leaving my family stuck in the middle.
Mace was a fool, and Willas and Margaery, who actually had some intelligence, were still raw. They had the ability to learn, but they were inexperienced.
Not to mention that since Willas was a cripple and Margaery a lady, unlike me, they would not have that much influence over their father, and Mace would be free to take whatever decisions he pleased.
Coming to my house, and our castle, Highgarden might not be the strongest or the most well-defended castle in Westeros, but it was certainly one of the most aesthetically pleasing. It had lush green gardens with colorful flowers lining them, and canals and fountains of water flowing through. Trees of different fruits with ripe products hanging on them were another of its attractions. A few of them were my favourite.
And just like the castle of Highgarden, the entire realm, the Reach, was beautiful and colorful. The lands of the Reach were the most fertile in all of Westeros, and many regions depended on the Reach for their food supplies. The Reach was also one of the most populous regions in Westeros, which meant that during times of war, they had a greater ability to raise levies. And a greater ability to suffer casualties.
And when it came to wars, the previous major one, Robert's Rebellion, had been quite a mess for House Tyrell.
Firstly, against all odds, Mace chose to support House Targaryen. It was not such a bad decision. In fact, it could have been a very great decision that could have changed the fate of our house. But only if he had made that decision wholeheartedly.
We had a massive army at our disposal, and had we fully committed ourselves, we would have made a great difference in favor of the Targaryens.
Rhaegar might have won his battle, and our status would have been what House Arryn and House Lannister enjoy today. Maybe, Mace would have been the hand of the king.
I am not saying that House Lannister did anything particularly grand for Robert, but Tywin Lannister had gold at his disposal and had played the situation very sharply.
But what did Mace do? He took the bulk of our army and marched against Storm's End, leading a long, pointless siege against Stannis Baratheon. What did he wish to achieve by it? I do not know. We lost. We had to surrender and though our relation with Roberth Baratheon did not really deteriorate, it became stagnant. A lot of houses viewed us as traitors to the ruling king and tried to use this against us. We lost a lot of our influence in the Red Keep. It was a devastating campaign for us.
Since that campaign, I have taken back all the power I had previously left to his discretion.
Olenna Tyrell's sharp tongue remains as dangerous as any dragon. It seems she is the only one in Highgarden who recognizes that a sharp mind can be just as lethal as fire and blood.
[POV Ends]
"Mother," Mace's voice snapped Olenna out of her thoughts. "Did you hear?"
"Oberyn," he continued, "with his niece, has gone to Essos to look for this so called Rhaenys Targaryen."
"Do you think she really is Rhaegar's daughter?" he asked, his voice uncertain and unsure.
"Does it matter?" she retorted with a snarl. "She has five dragons. Even if she is not Rhaenys, the Martells will take her with both hands."
"If she is willing," she added as an afterthought.
Mace nodded his head.
"What do you think will happen if she accepts her uncle?" Willas questioned. "Will she come back to Westeros and try to take the Iron Throne?"
This was the question that was on everyone's mind.
But Olenna knew better. It did not matter if she really was Rhaenys or not.
What mattered was that if she was a pretender, there could be only one reason for her doing so. To gain legitimacy for the Iron Throne.
And if she really was Rhaenys, there were even more reasons for her to turn toward Westeros along with the throne. For example, seeking revenge against those who had killed her parents, especially her mother and brother.
Olenna's eyes softened toward her grandson.
"She will come," she said. She could see all the scenarios, unlike many others. "Sooner or later, she will turn to Westeros."
"But," she continued, her voice echoing slightly, "before she turns to Westeros, she needs to fight a greater battle."
"What battle?" Margaery, her beautiful granddaughter, questioned.
"Lord Aeos," she remarked, surprising everyone.
"Both of them are trying and vying to dominate and rule Essos," she explained with a sigh. "And at some point, they are going to get into a conflict."
"What conflict would it be?" Mace scoffed. "She has five dragons. What does that Northern bastard have?"
"Heh!" Olenna chuckled at her foolish son. "A sharp mind."
"He has won cities using it," she remarked. "And do not forget the moves he made using the animals. He is not someone who would be cowered easily by dragons."
"I would not be surprised if he suddenly starts riding one of the dragons himself, using some of his tricks," she concluded.
Though no one spoke further, no one took her words seriously. Only later would they realize how true the comment Olenna had made in jest would prove to be.
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