Bringing the Dawn

LXVII.

Margaery Tyrell

King's Landing, 301 AC

"How is the King?"

Mira asked. The Forrester slowly untangling the complicated style her hair had been woven into that morning until it was falling in loose waves over her shoulders. A question she herself was asking, alongside what she would do once the initial shock of what had occurred wore off. There had been a long silence when the words had left Ser Arthur's lips before her husband had ordered everyone out of the room besides her younger brother, his Lord Commander, and Lord Howland. If her grandmother were still here and not in Highgarden, she would've ranted on how much of an insult it was for the King to dismiss his Queen so openly.

Yet Margaery understood why. Anyone who had been around Jaeron and had gotten to know him somewhat could see he was someone who tended to act quickly which was mayhaps not the best course to take at this moment in time. Gods, everything had changed in less than a day. Again. This time however, it was moving the game forward and introduced new players to the board, players they had not considered as a large issue. Now it was an issue, an issue no one was certain what to do.

"His Grace has not been having visitors since the news was confirmed."

Mira sucked in a breath at those words, clearly forcing herself to keep her tongue from speaking words that may count as treasonous. She'd like to think she had a measure of her husband by now, but she found she could not do so. Not truly at least.

"You can speak your truth, Lady Mira. You know the King better than I despite us being married."

Leaning back into her seat in a decidedly unladylike position and awaiting for the words to come. Her reply was true, Mira did know Jaeron better than she did. She'd come to Highgarden six years prior and prior to that she had lived with her family in Ironrath which was only a few days ride from Winterfell. Recalling from their wedding of her husband confirming they would play tricks together when they were children which given the way her handmaiden's smile had widened in amusement- she recalled fondly too. What the tricks were, Margaery was not sure of, yet she would ask one day.

"I cannot speak solely for the King, but given he is still a Northerner and most Northerner's have a similar temperament- I can guess. We're not like those from the south where we rely on pretty words and riddles to weave into frays on an ancient tapestry, we rely on strength and pride. By the Ironborn taking three key portions of the North- that is three insults against the North. This combined with Lord Robb still being held captive by the Lannister's is adding to the insult. Permission to be blunt, my Queen?"

"You have my permission."

She replied, letting the words sink in and realising they had more in common with her own families values than she initially thought. She'd long since deduced Jaeron was incredibly stubborn, yet this explained it in a way that allowed her to understand.

"I'd expect his Grace to travel straight for the North perhaps as soon as this night."

She stood up and walked over to the window overlooking the Blackwater. Back in the quarters she'd been placed in after the Keep had been taken yet before they had married. It felt strange to be back here given everything. Taking in a deep breath of the crisp salty air and closing her eyes for a few seconds in thought. Not that there was much time to talk on it as there was a soft knock at her door and Mira answered it to her younger brother.

"Apologies for interrupting, my Queen. His Grace has called a council to discuss the recent developments."

Without prodding, Mira walked over and quickly braided her hair loosely to allow it to fall over her right shoulder and place the delicate golden crown atop her dark brown hair. Turning afterwards to follow her brother out of the room towards the small council chamber where everyone was already seated. Seeing her husband for the first time since the news had been confirmed. Knowing with a single glance that Mira was correct as he looked angry now. Usually it was mayhaps his eyes or a slightly curled lip which portrayed how he felt. Now his eyes looked like thunder, his nostrils were visibly flaring, his top lip was almost fully curled in, and one of his hands was clenched in a fist so tight his knuckles were turning white.