Chapter 62
Chapter 62
Margeary twisted one of her golden-brown locks on her finger. Of course, her gesture was nothing akin to a crude serving girl that desired to catch a client’s attention. No. Nothing like it. After all, her Lady Grandmother taught her better than that.
But that hardly means that she cannot be elegantly coy. Or giggle at stupid or even crude jokes that entirely lack humor. Or smile when there is nothing to smile about but the mood of those in power calls for it. But right now, she could afford to act coy. Act victorious. For she is to be crowned as Queen. An actual Queen. Not just one of Thorns.
Of course the groom isn’t the one that was initially intended. But that is even better. For Tommen Baratheon, being only an impressionable child, ignored in favor of his elder brother and coincidentally Heir of the Seven Kingdoms, would hardly ignore the opinion of his well-meaning and sweet wife. For well-meaning and sweet she will be. She will love Tommen’s kittens and tell him tales of far-away lands. She will smile and pat his head. Anything really, as long as it is her who is doing it. And not the ‘Queen Mother’. Not Cersei.
So she will act. Be a mummer’s Princess, until she is one in truth. Be the timid, kind thing of fairy-tales and old stories told to babes and commoners, that truly have no idea what it means to be, to be born a Lord. Or Prince. Or Princess…
She has invested too much into the act as it is. First with Renly Baratheon, but alas, her actions were wasted on him. For what good is a husband that fails to perform his duty even on the wedding night?! Had her grandmother known of his deviations, she would have never allowed such a marriage to pass. Because finding out that her husband prefers to bed her own brother over her, is a kick her ego took a while to recover from. But sadly, her Lord father is a fool. In this, she completely agrees with her Lady Grandmother. For he has all the ambitions but none of the intelligence or cunning of a true Tyrell. Little better than talk. And empty words. Or even worse, words that are as foolish as they are binding…
Sometimes, she thinks it would have been better if her Lady Grandmother slipped her defective son some poison during breakfast considering the troubles his big mouth had got them into over the years. Because surely Willas, for all that he is a cripple, would be the better Lord. But then again, Grandmother, for all her ruthlessness is no kin-slayer. And in some aspects, a fool for a Lord that will follow most of the commands of his own mother is much better than a Lord that takes much more after the Queen of Thorns herself and not her ‘late’ husband.
So Margeary straightened the bodice of her flowing dress of silk and satin that made her resemble a beautiful rose, and held her head high. But didn’t forget to throw smiles of helpless innocence. After all, it’s the foolish girls that most find attractive. Not the smart ones. But the key of the trick is only to pretend at being a gullible idiot. Lest she ends up like her predecessor, Sansa Stark.
Honestly, that girl was a helpless airhead if Margeary ever saw one. And while they did foster some plans to marry the girl to one of her Tyrell brothers to gain Northern support for ‘saving’ the foolish thing, those plans only remained unfulfilled plans. And for good reason.
Because it was hard not to see that the stupid thing took a liking to Baelish of all people. And then the Red Wedding happened.
And if there was one thing the Tyrells couldn’t afford to do, it was antagonize the man with one of the largest spy networks in Westeros. Especially if the benefits are questionable at best and do not outweigh the risks. His ‘friendships’ with Lysa Arryn and Catelyn Stark also didn’t help matters. So when he approached them to negotiate ‘saving’ Sansa ‘Lannister’ nee Stark unhindered, her Lady Grandmother had to compromise. And the Queen of Thorns hated compromising. But sometimes, needs must.
It was only an added benefit that the old Lion perished at the hand of his own son. Because Tyrion Lannister was as much his son as Jaime. Regardless how the man disliked to be reminded of that relation. But then again, death by his own Bane. The irony…
And now the Tyrells have it all. Have overtaken the Lions in the race for the Iron Throne. She is to be Queen. She will get everything she ever wanted. But sometimes, all her achievement feel… hollow. When she was younger she dreamed of her very own fairy-tale Prince. Of love at first site. Of being the most beautiful of them all… That is until her Grandmother saw what exactly her dunderhead of a gooddaughter was reading to her children. Saying that she put a swift stop to it, was saying it lightly. And while Margeary is forever grateful to Lady Olenna for preventing her from growing to be a fool on par with Sansa, she also regrets. Regrets losing that childhood innocence she will never be able to get back. Regrets her own naiveté for all that it was useless, for the sense of confidence and security it brought her.
Because now, she isn’t just some Pawn in the Game of Thrones. She is a Queen on the way to becoming a Player. And for all the power such a thing affords her, it also comes at a cost of awareness. Awareness that all her actions are her own. And their consequences are something she will eventually reap. For better or for worse.
And sometimes, she cannot help but think of the Dragons. Of the Dragon Princes that brought her family to Power. Of those very well capable of taking it away. And sometimes, when she lays sleepless in her marriage bed, she cannot help but wonder, what if her husband was a true Dragon Prince? Not a questionable Baratheon with a high likelihood of being a Bastard borne of incest, but a true blood of the Dragons? For sure laying claim to one of their bewitching beauty would be a much more rewarding prize in the Game?
But if she is right, then why did her Lady Grandmother prefer the man she herself still refers to as the ‘Oaf of Highgarden’ over her captivating Targaryen betrothed?
Sadly, or thankfully, some things are a matter of the past. The un-reclaimable past. For the Valyrian ‘descendants’ of Essos and the few families of dragon blood such as the Celtigars remaining in Westeros are as close as she is ever going to get to seeing a Dragonlord, or Seven forbid, a Dragon. Because the only member of house Targaryen left is a Pauper Princess that was married off to a Horselord.
Because real life is as far from a fairy-tale as can get.
The Rose of Highgarden would do well to remember that.