Highgarden
A small ornate flying ship landed within the godswood, where it was stared at with amazement by the surrounding guards and servants, who were here to greet the guests along with the next in line to the Tyrell house. Willas Tyrell, a man who is a bit less handsome than his brother Loras, and whose crippled leg doesn't do him many favors, has a certain calming presence. "Greetings, Prince Gojo, and visitors from Britannia! On behalf of House Tyrell, I welcome you to Highgarden."
Stepping off the puddle jumper, I was slightly disappointed I couldn't see who I had come for. It seems the Queen of Thorns isn't eager to marry her granddaughter off to some foreign king when she has a chance at the Iron Throne. If she were, I had no doubt Margaery would be gauging my personality and character while walking to the castle. "Thank you for your welcome, Lord Willas. I'm certain you will be amazed at our gifts," I said while eating the prepared bread and salt.
"If it's anything like this sky ship or the light of roses, I would most certainly be impressed. Let me escort you to my grandmother; she's waiting in the gardens, Sadly, my father is away hunting, so he couldn't welcome you personally."
He started leading us towards the exit of the godswood while we continued speaking. His movements were quite slow as he walked with a limp from fighting the Red Viper in his younger years. I decided it was better not to comment on it, instead switching to polite small talk until we reached our destination.
The gardens were at a high point that overlooked all of Highgarden, surrounded by roses and other flowers, making it seem quite magical, especially considering all the flowers drowned out the smell of filth from the city below. Seated at a round table was an old woman wearing a medieval headdress that hid her gray hair and framed her face. Had it been anyone else, they probably wouldn't be able to pull off such a look.
"Hello, my child. Come sit, I have some fruits and wine already prepared for you. The death of your parents and your early rise to power must have been hard for you; please let Highgarden ease your burdens while you stay. Regarding the envoy you sent, I must admit you're more handsome than the reports said. I’m certain you would be a perfect match for one of the young Hightower or Redwyne girls that have just come of age."
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I sat at the table eagerly, swiping some fruit with no tact or etiquette that is expected of the nobility, drawing a more thoughtful expression from Olenna that was covered by her grandmotherly mask but thanks to the six eyes I spotted easily. I was in no rush and spoke slowly in between bites to set the conversation to my pace and not be led by the nose.
"As a boy, I grew up with stories of kings, castles and beautiful princesses saved by handsome knights, but as I grew up, I realized that my kingdom had long passed that point in our history.
You might be able to see it a simpler way than what my teachers described to me. For example, the First Men fought with simple weapons and had little knowledge of metal-making; as such, they were crushed underfoot by heavily armored Andals, who were a more advanced civilization. This gap in knowledge is still seen in the difference between the Seven Kingdoms and the Wildlings."
"Indeed, I raised my own children and grandchildren on such stories, but I'm afraid I don't see the relevance," Olenna shook her head with a kind smile.
"My people have classified these stages in civilization based on our own history; for example, all of Westeros and Essos is currently in the Medieval era; your next era should be the Renaissance or a classical era depending on how things develop if they ever do.
The point is, with every step up the ladder of progress, it becomes harder for other people's to resist. What I am offering in exchange for your granddaughter's hand is information and technology from the Renaissance to give you an advantage over everyone in the seven kingdoms." I waited to see her response and gauge her reaction as shadows from clouds covered us.
"I'm afraid I can't accept your offer. This would be as much of a boon as a detriment to the Reach. As you yourself pointed out, the Andals massacred the First Men but never got to the North, and now the North is just as capable of smelting as the Southern regions.
It would be ridiculous to develop without the other lords figuring out whatever technology is given or try to emulate the knowledge and information. Because of your youth and isolation, you've overlooked the complex power plays that happen between those with power; trust only family, and no secret remains guarded unless only one person knows about it.
It's simply too risky, both inside and outside the Reach, to accept such an offer," Olenna put on a look of educating the younger generation as she spoke while I just smiled.
"I completely agree, this was simply an offer out of kindness to my future family. After all, it is in the best interest of Britannia for the continents to remain without knowledge, much like it's in the best interest of the Seven Kingdoms to not educate hill tribes and Wildlings. Perhaps I could offer something more concrete, like treatment for the next Lord Paramount of the Reach; I noticed his walk as he greeted us."
Olenna seemed surprised by my words and immediately started asking for more details, which I answered as I finished my fruit.
She soon calmed down and rang a bell on the table for more wine and fruit. To my surprise, it was a younger version of Margaery than the actress in the TV show that brought the wine.
As the Chinese would say, she has skin soft as jade and had thin phoenix eyebrows, slightly raised. I would say she had a rather mousey face with stormy blue eyes combined with excellent hair and fashion sense. It seems the real negotiations begin here, and I'm on the back foot thanks to this little stunt.