Jaehaerys continued along the coast. He rested every so often; after all, dragons couldn't fly indefinitely. Even a special one like Moonfyre needed rest. He had now landed a few kilometers from Sunhouse, ready to go to the island that was The Arbor, the Redwyne's lands.
He needed Moonfyre to be fully rested. Although it was only a vague precaution, Desmera Redwyne, daughter of Paxter Redwyne, the current lord of The Arbor, was in ArgentStone.
"I stink," he said, taking a moment to smell himself. The dragon's scent had remained impregnated on his skin. "You stink too," he said to his eagle, which had never been given a name. "It's time, Moonfyre," he said as he got up.
The dragon protested a little, but the prince noticed that it was more laziness than actual tiredness. Soon they were on their way. The journey took an hour, and the prince thought about the need for a seat, or at least something to keep him on the dragon's back, so he could take a nap or, if he managed to stop the air force completely, maybe even read.
Jaehaerys landed near Ryamsport, which was a port city on the island. Its name came from a Ryam Redwyne, whom many believed was the Royal Guard who served the first Jaehaerys, but who was actually another ancestor of the Redwynes.
He landed in a wide open space, far enough away so as not to accidentally crush anyone and close enough so as not to have to walk too far. As he was about to take his first step toward the port, he saw horses traveling in his direction in the distance. They had come to welcome him, so he waited. His dragon was behind him, and when the horses were close, she took flight, scaring them as if playing a joke.
Luckily, no one fell from their horses while breaking their necks.
"Lord Hand!" One of the men approached him; he was the one who was shaking the least. "Welcome to The Arbor," he tried to sound brave, but his eyes kept wandering to the dragon doing pirouettes in the air.
"Thank you for the welcome. Are you Lord Horas? Or Lord Robber?" he asked as he walked toward the young man. He had met him before, in King's Landing, although only in passing.
"I am Lord Horas Redwyne, heir to The Arbor," the heir looked as if he was about to wet himself, gripping his horse's reins so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
"Do you have a horse for me?" asked the prince, his eyes fixed on the gray horse without a rider that one of the men was holding.
"Yes, yes, Prince-Lord Hand!" stammered the man. Jaehaerys was bored with him.
Stannis was more fun, even though he couldn't even understand a joke. At least he didn't tremble when he looked at the dragon; he just clenched his teeth hard enough to crush a diamond.
Jaehaerys mounted the horse and waited a moment, but no one moved. He began to ride off on his own. It took the men a few seconds to tear their eyes away from Moonfyre and hurry after him. Lord Horas was at his side immediately.
"Does your father command the fleet?" Jaehaerys asked.
"Yes, Lord Hand," Jaehaerys noticed how the little man was doing his best not to turn his head and look at the dragon receding into the horizon.
"I must assume, then, that you are the highest authority in The Arbor?" Jaehaerys had come there for information about the Ironborn; he wanted to see how things had developed in this part of Westeros.
"Yes... oh, no!" The man was nervous. Jaehaerys decided to remain silent; he would wait until the man could form a sentence correctly.
They passed through the harbor and entered the city. The Redwyne's Castle was on a hill. It was a short trip from Ryamsport. Jaehaerys paid no attention to the decorations; he didn't care much about them. He wondered who would be the ruler in Paxter's absence, perhaps a steward.
The prince had guessed wrong.
"Olenna Tyrell," Jaehaerys greeted her, feeling exhausted just looking at the wrinkled grandmother she was.
"You could at least feign a little joy," she replied when she saw his face. "Perhaps, instead of this bag of bones, my granddaughter, Margaery, would be more to your liking," she said, waiting for his reaction.
"If you had a picture of my wife, I might smile for real," the prince replied in the same rude manner as Olenna.
Olenna raised her eyebrows: "I have one of Catelyn Stark. Would you deign to smile at that one too?" She smiled as she spoke. "Horas, get out of here. Take the opportunity to change your pants," she ordered the young man who had accompanied the prince to Lord Paxter Redwyne's Solar.
"You seem quite comfortable ruling. Far from Highgarden," the prince commented. He remembered that Garlan had invited him to visit Olenna on her lands. The war had postponed any response, and he did not expect to find her there.
"Sometimes a change of scenery is good," Olenna said with a smile. "Old bones appreciate a little movement."
"I'm sure. The seas are beautiful, the waves and the rocking, I'm sure your body enjoyed it. Especially with the Krakens in the ocean, it must have been a sight to behold," the prince mocked her words. "How did you know I would be here?" Jaehaerys asked. He had not sent any letters.
"Quite egocentric, eh? All men are the same, always assuming everything is about them," Olenna did not answer him. Jaehaerys remained silent. "How many ships have you burned?" he asked directly.
"Not enough," the prince shrugged. "How has the war progressed in the West? Has Lord Paxter managed to defend the coasts properly?" asked the prince.
"He almost has. Euron launched an attack on Bandallon and destroyed them, poor things. Then he disappeared. The ships that were following him fled back to the Iron Islands with what they stole," Olenna said with a hint of boredom in her voice.
"How many ships?"
"Dozens? Hundreds? The letter didn't say. And it doesn't seem relevant that the number of ships; that dragon of yours seems capable of sinking every one of them," Olenna seemed to want to steer the conversation toward dragons.
"Then there's no point in me staying here," Jaehaerys stood up.
"Oh, how impatient, for the gods' sake," Olenna said, annoyed.
"Every day I move one foot closer to the stranger, and I don't despair so quickly," she took an olive from a tray on the desk and popped it into her mouth.
"There's a war out there," said the prince.
"Would you prefer me to be direct? Fine, then. What do you think of Margaery?" Jaehaerys heard her voice and brought his hand to his forehead. He felt a headache coming on like a train.
"I'm not interested in a second wife," said the prince.
"Are you sure?" Olenna asked again. "Or perhaps my granddaughter isn't red-haired enough for you?" Her voice was sharp and pointed.
"You have a sharp tongue... it's a pity your power doesn't match it," said the prince. The Reach could call the most enormous army in Westeros, but the ruling house, the Tyrells, did not have the best control over their lands.
"The Reach is the second richest kingdom. You are already at odds with the Lannisters, why not ally yourself with—"
"If the alliance includes putting a child in your granddaughter's womb so she can ride a dragon, then I'm not interested," Jaehaerys replied. "And if you want to make an enemy of me, say that stupid comment about my daughter. That I am so sure you had in the tip of your tongue." Olenna's mouth froze at that moment.
"You are described as strong, handsome, intelligent, and courteous..." Olenna swallowed another olive. "I only see three out of four."
"Perhaps you only deserve three out of four," replied the prince. Olenna had been the one who started this whole stupid exchange.
"I really like you, you know?" Olenna said. "Too bad you don't want Margaery's hand," she said in a calmer voice.
"The feeling is one-sided," Jaehaerys said. Olenna let out a laugh that sounded quite raspy in her old throat.
"Well, well. An alliance without marriage, I'll have to settle for that," Olenna said.
Jaehaerys then took a seat. If it were business, he was interested.