Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 183 Pregnancy
The sky over Stormlands was overcast, and the sea breeze whipped up waves that pounded against the ancient foundations of Storm's End. The castle's drum towers stood tall, and countless black stone steps led upwards, eventually reaching the main building's portico.

Olenna Tyrell's carriage bumped along the muddy road, speeding along. Although her destination was already in sight, she still felt it was too slow and kept urging the coachman to speed up, which frightened the servants who tried to dissuade her, but she immediately rebuked them.

"Shut up, I'll have plenty of time to take my time after I'm dead!"

"Ma'am, we're here."

Just then, the coachman pulled on the reins, and Olena parted the curtain to see the crowned stag and the golden rose banner prominently displayed beneath the Tower of Heaven. The city gates were wide open, and the guards were already lined up to welcome her.

The walls of Stormstalker are made of stormstone, and the corridors are wide, with braziers embedded in the walls every few steps to provide lighting.

As soon as Olena entered the castle, Margaret trotted over and helped her into her bedroom.

Olena waved her hand, signaling the maids and guards to leave, ensuring that only the grandmother and granddaughter remained in the bedchamber.

After everyone had left, she walked to the fireplace, sat down, and muttered:
“Your father has agreed to the Lannisters’ request to let you marry Joffrey. He was forced to agree to it.”

Margaret pulled up a high-backed chair and sat down next to her grandmother, not at all surprised.

"Of course, I understand."

Olena took Margaret's hand and carefully examined her beautiful granddaughter.

Margaret wore a dark green velvet gown and a silver crown, her eyes revealing a calm demeanor. Although she was not yet twenty years old, she had already demonstrated extraordinary political talent.

Olena nodded in satisfaction. "Good, you've gotten married and become a woman; you've grown up."

Varys has already arrived at Highgarden, and Petyr should be here soon as well.

With Renly's death, the lords of the Reach and Stormlands were all in an uproar. She gripped Margaret's hand tighter. "It's truly remarkable that you've managed to hold on like this!"

Margaret smiled gently, picked up the teapot and poured her grandmother a cup of hot black tea. "Thanks to the support of Earl Randall and Earl Matus, otherwise the soldiers would have scattered long ago."

Olenna took the teacup, took a sip, and said, "The Lannisters have done a lot of dirty work behind the scenes, but I don't believe they're bold enough to mess with us."

"Ramly has only been buried a few days ago, and they're already in such a hurry to find you, a widow, to remarry. This shows their situation is far more dire than they claim."

"Have the lords made any unusual moves?"

"The Florentine family has secretly sided with Stannis. You know, those red foxes always claim their bloodline is closer to the Gardener's family, and that they have a higher right of succession."

Furthermore, the Durand family has secretly sent messengers to Stannis, but has not yet formally sworn allegiance.

And then there's House Charon; their men just came to Highgarden the day before yesterday to gather information, and it seems they're preparing to surrender to the Lannisters.

The situation was dire, which is why your father agreed to the marriage.

“So,” Margaret laughed, “Grandmother came to tell me this result?”

“You’re far too calm.” Olena put down her cup and leaned forward. “Most girls would be overjoyed to hear they were going to marry the king, if not weep with joy, at least they would be beaming with happiness, right?”

“Grandmother, just as you said, I am a widow,” Margaret rose, straightened the wrinkles in her dress, walked to the window, and said slowly, “I can no longer remarry.”

"Ranly has never touched you, you are still a virgin, right?" Olenna looked at her granddaughter's back and raised her voice, "If you become queen, the Tyrell family will gain unprecedented power and will also be able to appease those lords!"

“That’s how it appears on the surface,” Margaery calmly analyzed. “But in reality, once I marry into King’s Landing, I’ll become their prisoner. Then they can easily control Highgarden, divide and conquer it, just like Sansa Stark did.” “My granddaughter, you’ve always been the most opinionated person in the family. You’re right,” Olenna said, changing the subject. “But if we don’t accept the marriage, the Reach will split, and the Tyrells will likely become third-rate lords. We’ll have no choice.”

“Joffrey is too young, and I’ve heard he has a bad temper. Marrying him wouldn’t be a good thing.” Margaery looked at the surging waves below. “Wouldn’t it be better to wait until Stannis fights the Lannisters first before making a decision?”

Olena shook her head and said, "I raised you, so I know when you lied."

She stood up, leaning on her cane. "You're hiding something from me, aren't you?"

Margaret's grip on the windowsill tightened unconsciously. "Grandmother, what do you think of the Targaryens?"

Olena frowned deeply. She walked to Margaret's side and said in a deep voice, "What's the use of Rahalo being so far away in Essos if he wins every battle? War is unpredictable. Do you expect the army across the sea to provide timely support?"

Margaery smiled slyly, “Renly lost Weeping Town to Laharo in the duel, and all I have to do is keep the king’s will and cede Weeping Town to him.”

“You think he can come and garrison troops?” Olena shook her head involuntarily, her face clearly showing her stupidity.

A hint of tenderness flashed in Margaret's eyes, but she quickly regained her composure: "I'm confident, Grandmother."

“No one can figure out Rahalo, so what makes you so sure?” Olena questioned.

“It’s about to rain, let’s go inside.” Margaret glanced at the weather, helped her grandmother back to the fireplace, and after a long while, slowly uttered a few words:
"I am pregnant."

These words were like a thunderclap, leaving Lady Olena completely stunned on the spot!

For a moment, the air in the palace seemed to freeze. This news was completely beyond her expectations.

It took her a long while to come to her senses; her voice was almost squeezed out of her throat.
"When did this happen? That kid Renly...!"

“It’s not Renly’s,” Margaret said calmly.

Olena's cloudy old eyes widened, a sense of foreboding rising in her heart, and she exclaimed:

"Could it be...?"

"Yes, Lahalo."

Olena felt dizzy and had to hold onto the table to stay upright.

Her obedient granddaughter, the Rose of Highgarden, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, had an affair with someone? And it was the infamous Seven Gods' Whip!
This is not merely a moral issue, but a crime far more serious than treason, because it directly undermines the legitimacy of the monarchy based on blood ties, and even the system of succession.

During the eight hundred years of Targaryen and Baratheon rule, there was not a single scandal involving a queen's adultery.

"Are you crazy?!" Olenna finally snapped, slamming her cane on the ground with a loud thud. "If this gets out, the Tyrell family will become a laughingstock, and centuries of accumulation will be destroyed in an instant!"

Margaret remained calm: "I know, but I love him."

"Wake up, Margaery Tyrell! As the daughter of the Duke of Highgarden, you have never needed love!" Olenna roared. "I will not allow this to happen! I will arrange for you to drink the Moon Tea to terminate your pregnancy! Then, you will marry Joffrey according to the family's decision!"

Margaret's eyes also turned cold; a mother's nature is to protect her children, and she was no exception.

"No, Grandmother. I will give birth to this child!"

(End of this chapter)