Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 152 Engagement
Vera stood on the deck, her hands unconsciously stroking her slightly protruding belly.

She never imagined she would leave the Grass Sea one day, but the child in her womb changed everything.

“In another half day we will see the lighthouse of the old town, my lady.” The captain walked up behind her, his voice unusually respectful. “My caravan will be traveling with you. You may return to your cabin to prepare.”

Vera nodded slightly.

She didn't need to prepare anything, except for the jewels Laharo had given her, which filled her entire bag. But none of that mattered; she just wanted to see the child's father as soon as possible.

The old town was more prosperous than she had imagined.

The towering lighthouse, like a giant candle, guides countless ships. The bronze domes of the Citadel gleam in the sunlight, and the stained-glass windows of the Seven Saints Church refract a rainbow of colors.

The streets crisscross, and the buildings, mainly made of gray stone, are stacked on the hills in a staggered manner, forming a stepped urban outline.

The dock was bustling with people, and seagulls circled overhead, emitting sharp cries.

Vera disembarked, then changed to horses and followed the caravan north along the Rose Avenue, overhearing much gossip among the merchants along the way.

The Lannisters and the Starks started fighting.

Lord Robb Stark bypassed Goldtooth, found a narrow path, and led 6,000 cavalrymen into the heart of the Westerlands. There, he killed Tywin Lannister, Tywin's cousin, at Oxford, and annihilated 10,000 enemy troops.

On the return journey, he also captured Branded City and Cliffrock City, spreading the fame of the Young Wolf throughout Westeros. The Riverlands also swore allegiance to him, and he was at the height of his power.

She cared nothing for the Andari war; all she wanted was to get to Highgarden as quickly as possible.

Highgarden is surrounded by three concentric white walls, covered with ivy and blooming roses. From a distance, it looks like a house from a fairy tale.

The caravan informed the guards of their names and presented their cargo manifest. The guards then allowed them to pass without paying any attention to her.

Wander through labyrinthine gardens and fountains, past intricately carved marble statues, until you see the central castle brightly lit.

She handed the horse to the caravan and walked away without looking back towards the brightest spot.

This is the banquet hall, and it's already packed with people.

Vera wore a white tulle dress, with a Heraca fur shawl over her shoulders and a pair of Heraca fur soft boots on her feet, making her particularly eye-catching amidst the silk and satin.

She looked around, trying to find Garland.

In the center of the hall was a long, high table, where more than a dozen nobles dressed in fine clothes sat.

These Andari all look the same, dressed in flashy clothes, wearing all their valuables on their bodies.

After a moment, she finally saw Garland Tyrell on the other side of the table.

A blonde girl sat beside him, gazing at him with affection, while his expression looked unnatural; he stared straight ahead, as if forcing a smile.

"Galan!"

She pushed through the crowd and strode toward Garland, her voice echoing through the hall. All eyes were on her, and the noise immediately subsided until all was silent.

Galan suddenly looked up, his eyes widening as his face flashed with a series of expressions, from surprise to panic, but mostly joy.

"Vera!" He stood up abruptly. "What are you doing here?"

The Duke of Metz sat in the main seat, his appearance bearing a striking resemblance to Garland. He frowned and scrutinized her from head to toe.

“Galan, who is this…?” Garlan, sweat beading on his forehead, explained, “Father, this is Vera. She is the sister of the warrior Ragu, and the steward of La, Laharokao…”

"Cough cough cough..."

Mays choked violently as soon as he took a sip of red wine, and the red liquid sprayed out of his nostrils.

The blonde girl beside Garland stood up and curtsied gracefully. "Welcome to Highgarden, Miss Vera. I am Leonie Forsowy, and tonight is my engagement party with Sir Garland." Her voice was sweet, but her eyes held the gaze of an enemy.

Vera was stunned. An engagement party?
"Galan, are you going to marry this woman?" She looked at Garlan, whose face was pale and whose eyes were filled with guilt.

"Vera, it's not what you think. This is an arranged marriage between families. I thought you didn't want me anymore..."

"Enough!" Vera interrupted him. "I traveled halfway around the world for you just to see you get engaged to another woman?"

Just then, Lady Olena tapped her wine glass, and the entire hall fell silent.

“Dothraki girl, come to me, I want to hear your story.” The old woman was thin and short, and her voice was not loud, but it had an undeniable air of authority.

Vera could sense that among all the people present, it was this seemingly intimidating old woman who was kind to her, as well as the young girl next to her with gentle, doe-like eyes.

On the other side of the hall, a young man with the crowned stag crest embroidered on his chest stared at her with a gloomy gaze and his eyes were full of hostility.

Ignoring everyone's gaze and no longer paying attention to Garland, Vera strode over to Olena, pulled up a chair, and sat down next to her.

“Kiss me, child,” Olena said, taking Vera’s wrist in her old, withered hand. “What a brave child, daring to walk alone into this place full of enemies.”

Vera hesitated for a moment, as there was no such etiquette on the grassy sea, but she still lowered her head slightly and gently kissed the old woman's cheek.

"Interesting." The old woman looked her up and down, then looked up and called out impatiently, "Ellery, serve the food! Are you trying to starve me to death?"

“Mother…” Ellery hesitated before she could finish speaking.

“Shut up, Ellery, stop with that tone.” Olena glared at her. “And don’t call me Mother. If I gave birth to you, I’ll remember.”

"Would you like to see a clown show, child?" Olena tapped her cane and suddenly raised her voice. "Butter tarts! Where are the butter tarts? I'm not paying to listen to your whispers, sing louder! The feast continues, and none of you should steal glances at this old woman!"

A fat clown rolled into the hall, dressed in a green and yellow feathered outfit, with a cockscomb flower stuck in his hair.

"Let's sing!" Buttercake shouted tactfully, "I want to sing 'The Bear and the Beautiful Girl,' ma'am, may I sing it upside down?"

"Casual!"

“As you wish,” Buttercake bowed deeply, let out a loud burp, then suddenly stood upside down and roared, “This bear, this bear, this bear! All black and brown, covered in fur…”

He performed various acrobatic tricks, which made the nobles present laugh heartily. Servants served him a meat soup with leeks and mushrooms, which temporarily eased the tense atmosphere.

At least that's what it seems.

“I am Olena, Garland’s grandmother,” the old woman introduced herself. “This is my granddaughter, Margaery.” She gestured to the young woman beside her. “The one over there with the long face is her husband, Renly Baratheon.”

Olena leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "Vera, now we can talk. Tell me, why did Rahalo send you to Highgarden?"

Vera subconsciously touched her slightly protruding belly. "I'm pregnant. It's Garland's child."

Lady Olena's eyes widened instantly, while Margaret quickly covered her mouth to prevent herself from gasping.

(End of this chapter)