Chapter 1
Margaery Tyrell. The most beautiful woman in Westeros. This was Sansa’s view at least, though some might dispute it, pushing forward their wives and daughters to fight for the title. Perhaps there was a woman somewhere, hidden in the shadows, beauty obscured by poverty, who might be more exquisite than the lovely lady of Highgarden. But Sansa was without doubt that Margaery would glow through any dirt covering. There was something effortlessly enigmatic in her smile, the toss of her hair, the twinkle in her eyes. It was hard to believe that there was a time when they had been enemies, only posing as allies. Margaery had taken her arm and walked her through the gardens of the Red Keep, whispering sweet promises in her ear. Sansa’s heart had swelled at the dreams Margaery placed in her mind, of becoming the Lady of Highgarden, marrying Loras and living comfortably, far from the Lannisters. And then it had all gone wrong. That moment in the garden, when Margaery offered her a flower, was the last time Sansa could remember being truly happy, for a long time. Until the day she was reunited with Jon.
Now Margaery stood before her once more, after all, somehow still alive and still lighting the room with her presence. Sansa shifted her position on the uncomfortable throne. Lady Brienne stood by her side as always, hand resting on her legendary sword. Her sister, Arya, stood on the other side, and Sansa did not have to look at her to know she was glaring at their visitor.
Margaery was wearing a breathtaking blue gown, soft fabric curving around her breasts and rejoining at her neck. Resting on her fair collarbone was a silver pendant in the shape of the Tyrell flower. Her chestnut hair formed a popular southern style, reminding Sansa of when she had styled her own hair similarly, on her arrival at King’s Landing. She no longer felt the need to change her appearance in order to cohere and impress. She was Queen now.
The two women merely regarded each other for a few moments before Margaery dropped into a deep curtsey.
“Your majesty.”
“Lady Tyrell. For what purpose do you grace us with your presence?” Sansa had easily picked up the formalities of rulership. Though some still believed she should not rule, her attention to detail and intelligence swayed many who previously clung to old-fashioned ideas.
Margaery rose and met Sansa’s gaze. Her eyes, though forever cryptic, seemed to reveal an attitude of respect. “I, Lady Margaery of Highgarden, Lady of the Reach and of the House Tyrell, pledge allegiance to the crown. I swear it before the old gods and the new.” She spoke with ease, a voice of honey that brought Sansa back to that garden and those childish dreams. Who would have thought it would be Sansa who would be seated on this throne, and not Margaery, with her feminine graces and clever words? And to be sitting there without a man by her side? So much had changed.
“Perhaps I should be wary of you, Lady Tyrell.” Margaery’s face did not change, always in complete control of her emotions. “Your family supported the Lannisters in Second Targaryen invasion, while I supported Queen Daenerys. And even before that, you usurped my engagement to Joffrey Baratheon.” Before Margaery had a chance to twist her way out of this blame, Sansa continued. “But none of that matters now.” The other woman gave a surprised smile. “All previous petty arguments were wiped away with the Long Winter.” Her face softened at the thought of the lives lost in that terrible war. “I am truly sorry for your loss.” Margaery’s father and brother had both given their lives fighting the dead, leaving Margaery as the Lady of Highgarden. “I accept your pledge.” Arya made a noise of disapproval, which Sansa pointedly ignored.
“Thank you, you are too kind.” Margaery released her full smile now, and Sansa had to stop herself from grinning back in response, allowing herself only a small twitch of the lips. It was imperative she remained clear headed. If she could not control herself, how could she control the entire realm?
“Good. I hope you will be staying with us for a while Lady Margaery.”
“Yes, your majesty.”
“There is a place on the Small Council if you would like it. We are in need of a Master of Whisperers.”
If Margaery was surprised, she hid it well. “I would be honoured.”
“I am sure we will be grateful of your service. You may leave now, if you wish. Ellana will show you to your rooms.” Sansa gestured to a servant girl waiting at the door.
“Thank you for your hospitality, your majesty.” The woman curtsied again before gracefully exiting the room.
Sansa turned to her seething sister. “Do you have a problem with what just occurred, Arya?”
“Permission to speak freely?” When Sansa nodded, she said flatly, “I don’t like her.” Ah Arya and her endless stubbornness. Still, her passion and loyalty was one of her best qualities, and the reason Sansa had made her a member of her Queensguard.
“And why is that?”
“She seems too controlled. Like Cersei Lannister. Or-”
“Or me?”
Arya looked guilty for a moment. It was true. It was also how all three women had survived so long, though Cersei had been killed by Arya herself in the Targaryen Invasion.
Sansa sighed before turning to Brienne. “And you? What do you think of Lady Tyrell?”
“I do not trust her, your highness. But,” The Lord Commander of the Queensguard paused for a moment, frowning. “People are not always what they seem at first. I learned that from the kingslayer.” Brienne seemed wistful at the last. Jaime was still alive, exiled to Casterly Rock now as his family numbers had dwindled with their monetary funds. The pair had always had a strange relationship which Sansa had never quite felt comfortable to ask about.
Having heard advice from the two people she trusted most in the world, Sansa was certain she had made the right choice. Sansa might never trust Margaery entirely, but she trusted her skills as a secret keeper and judge of character. She had talked her way into bed with three kings. They were all dead now, and two out of three had been Sansa’s bitter enemies, but she could not deny the power Margaery had over men and their mouths. She could learn of anything Sansa needed her to.
As long as Margaery Tyrell was on her side, Sansa knew she could not fail.