At night, we indulged in passionate love for hours. I couldn't get enough of Margaery's wonderful body—her honey-colored skin, her large, bright eyes, and the radiant passion that seemed to overflow from her. I was driven mad by the scent of her—young, fresh, and unbearably alluring.
Margaery's pure passion was in no way inferior to my own, and often, when we finally collapsed in exhaustion, dawn was already breaking outside the windows.
In addition, the girl turned out to be very intelligent and possessed a number of interesting qualities. She loved to read, often played the harp, and sang quite well. At the same time, she was very kind—both to influential people and to common folk, visiting poor neighborhoods and giving alms.
"Joff," I heard my wife's voice. At that moment, I was sitting on a low couch in our chambers, reading a book titled A Complete List of the Coats of Arms and Mottoes of All Houses of the Seven Kingdoms.
"What is it, my dear?" I looked up. Margaery sat at a small table covered with numerous jars of creams, perfumes, and other ladies' trinkets.
Now she was combing her magnificent hair, gazing at her reflection in a beautiful mirror enclosed in a silver frame. One of her ladies-in-waiting, a very young, thin as a reed, nine-year-old girl named Alysanne Bulwer, was helping her.
I noticed that Margaery liked this girl, and very often before bed or in the morning, it was she who attended her. Probably because Alice (as we all called her) was still young and had not yet learned to gossip and "slander others," as the older and more ambitious girls in my wife's retinue did.
"Have you forgotten that we agreed to study Valyrian?"
"Of course not."
"Then, if you still haven't changed your mind, our first lessons will begin in a week."
"Really?" I asked with interest. "Who is the teacher?"
"Maester Lorris. He will arrive here soon."
"Do you know him?"
"No, but Grandmother wrote a letter to the Citadel asking them to send someone who knows High Valyrian and other languages."
"I look forward to meeting him," I said. Indeed, learning such a language seemed to me a very interesting and useful pursuit. It was wonderful that Margaery hadn't forgotten my idea and had arranged everything.
I walked over to my wife, bent down, and kissed her behind the ear. Margaery turned to me with a smile and wrapped her arms around my neck.
Alice stepped back and blushed, lowering her eyes to the floor.
"Don't be so shy," I said, winking at her. "In a few years, Lady Margaery will find you a good husband."
"The sooner, the better!" squeaked the girl, and my wife and I couldn't help but laugh.
"Are you going to the Council?" Margaery asked once we calmed down.
"Yeah."
"Then I'll see you at dinner."
"What are you going to do?"
"I want to take a walk and think about something. I've had some interesting thoughts."
"I'd love to hear them."
"Later, Joff."
"All right."
We parted ways, and I headed for the Tower of the Hand. It was not close, and climbing the numerous steps was quite a challenge. But I attended every meeting without fail and had gradually developed a taste for it. I liked keeping my finger on the pulse of the realm, liked delving into various issues of foreign and domestic policy, and I liked the process itself—the calm, unhurried discussion of important matters.
The other members of the Small Council had already grown used to the king's presence, and my arrival no longer caused any surprise. I slowly increased my own activity, starting with simple, harmless questions that helped me understand various nuances.
In addition, I managed to speak with Tywin Lannister a couple of times. The first time, noticing my interest in matters of state, my grandfather invited me for a walk, and we strolled along the garden paths for a long while, talking about various topics.
However, it was more of an interrogation than a conversation. My grandfather, having suddenly realized that I had developed new interests, hastened to find out what I was thinking about and how deeply, what views I held, and what I intended to achieve in general.
That first time was not easy for me. Talking to such an experienced and perceptive man is quite a challenge—especially since I was still a novice in the affairs of Westeros.
My adult experience and the views on life that I had managed to form largely satisfied Lord Tywin's curiosity. A couple of times I noticed surprise on his face—those were the moments when, despite all my caution, I must have said something odd. The Hand seemed to chalk these things up to his grandson's general eccentricity. I think these minor missteps ultimately even worked in my favor, showing that I hadn't changed too much.
At the end of the conversation, the Hand was visibly flattered when I mentioned that I would be interested in learning statecraft from him.
After another conversation—this one more friendly, if one can call it that—the old lord seemed to realize that I was not entirely hopeless.
In any case, he began to show me more sympathy and warmth. The Hand even managed, in some inexplicable way, to turn the situation to our mutual benefit. Many people in the Red Keep suddenly began to think that Lord Tywin had finally taken his grandson seriously—and lo and behold, the results were not long in coming: the king had matured and seemed to have come to his senses. And this was quite understandable. After all, the Lannisters, despite all their antics and arrogance, were never considered fools.