Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

You're out having fun, why are you talking business with me?

The banquet hall in Highgarden resembles a giant flower cup blooming under the night sky, with the dome adorned with star-like candlesticks, each flame gently dancing within the glass lampshades.

The long table was covered with snow-white brocade embroidered with golden roses, and the silver cutlery shimmered like moonlight in the candlelight.

The wealth of the river bend was on full display at this dinner.

Waiters filed in, carrying roasted peacocks covered in rose salt, wild boar ham studded with truffles, and roasted salmon drizzled with honey and tarragon. A towering sugar fritter slowly rotated in the center of the table, its cinnamon torch at the top burning with a ghostly blue flame, eliciting gasps of amazement from the children.

Garland Tyrell enthusiastically cut a piece of venison pie for Daeron, saying, "Try this; it has Dornish saffron in it, just like the taste of your mother's homeland."

Lady Olenna sat in the main seat, watching Euron skillfully carve quail for Ashara with a Valyrian knife, and suddenly chuckled, "It seems that Eastern etiquette is more refined than we imagined."

Euron placed the quail leg on Ashara's plate, looked up and smiled, "In Qarth, they believe that how one treats food reflects one's sincerity towards allies."

As the banquet reached its climax, Loras suddenly pulled Rhaenys away from their seats. Moments later, the sight of two children improvising a sword fight on the terrace entered the banquet hall, the rhythm of their wooden swords striking each other in a wondrous harmony with the musician's lute playing. Margaret watched intently, forgetting even to eat the raspberry cake in her hand.

The Duke of Mace raised his glass and laughed. "It seems that the roses of Highgarden and the sea buckthorn of Dorne can dance together under the moonlight."

When the final dish of pear stew in sweet wine was removed, Velas Tyrell ordered a planetarium to be brought in. The bronze sphere, activated by a mechanism, slowly rotated, its inlaid gems reflecting the candlelight like a real starry sky.

Velas rose, raised his glass, and said with a smile, "In commemoration of this night, may the roses of House Tyrell forever bloom for our friends far away."

The guests and hosts enjoyed themselves immensely.

The afterglow of the dinner party had not yet faded when Margaret, wearing a pearl-embellished nightgown, nestled on her grandmother Olenna's lap.

"Grandmother," the little girl's voice was sleepy but couldn't hide her curiosity, "I heard Rhaenys call Duke Euron 'Father'—but Rhaenys's father—shouldn't he be the dead Prince Rhaegar, that Targaryen—?"

Mrs. Olena gently combed her granddaughter's hair, her fingertips brushing against the soft, golden curls. The candlelight cast deep shadows on her wrinkled face.

Lady Olenna recounted the events of that time, her voice calm: "That all happened after the Tournament of Harrenhal. You already know how Rhaegar and Elia's marriage ended. Later, Euron escorted Elia and her daughter back to Dorne, where they stayed for a long time." She paused, lowering her voice even further, "Caesar, that's his child with Elia."

Margaret suddenly raised her head, all sleepiness gone, her bright blue eyes wide open.

Lady Olena picked up her rose tea and took a sip: "Although they have kept this secret all this time, over the years, word has inevitably leaked out. Now, those in the Seven Kingdoms who know the truth simply keep quiet about it."

"So Renis, she—"

"Renise is indeed Rhaegar's daughter," the old lady interrupted her granddaughter's speculation, chuckling, "but that child was separated from her biological father before she was even a year old. When her father died, her mother had already ended her marriage with Rhaegar. How much affection could she possibly have for someone she has no memory of?"

Margaret tilted her head and continued to press, "But Duke Euron's lawfully wedded wife is Lady Ashara, so what about Princess Ilya—"

"Heh heh—" Lady Olenna chuckled softly, a sharp glint in her eyes. "Isn't the Queen of Qarth also his wife? Didn't the Warrior Queen of the Isle of Women bear him a daughter?" She gently lifted her granddaughter's chin and said, "Just give Elia a throne, and all problems will be solved. With Euron's current strength, the Stone Steps Isles are like a dish on a plate; it's just a matter of when he's willing to take the knife and fork."

Moonlight streamed through the stained glass, casting dappled colors upon the grandmother and granddaughter. Lady Olenna's voice was soft yet powerful: "My dear granddaughter, remember this—if you are strong enough, you have the right to make the rules. Euron, you now have the power to make the rules."

As dawn broke, glistening dewdrops still clung to the rose garden.

Thousands upon thousands of roses bloomed in the morning light, deep red, pale pink, goose yellow, and snow white, layered upon layer like a tapestry. Euron and Lady Olenna strolled side by side along the winding stone path, the air filled with intoxicating fragrance.

Euron gently stroked a blooming golden rose and launched into a bombshell: "Lady Olena, I think Margaret is a clever and beautiful girl. How about a marriage between our two families? I'd like to arrange a betrothal between Caesar and your little granddaughter."

Lady Olena paused almost imperceptibly. She calmly trimmed the excess branches of a wild rose bush beside her, the silver scissors making a crisp "snip" sound.

She pondered for a moment, then said in a deep voice, "Caesar? That child has indeed inherited your heroic spirit. However—both children are still too young. It's not too late to discuss this matter in a few years."

A gentle breeze wafted by, carrying the sweet scent of roses. Lady Olenna suddenly smiled and pointed to Garan, who was practicing his sword in the distance: "Look at my grandson Garan, he's about the same age as Renis. The two children are quite a good match."

Euron looked toward the training ground, where ten-year-old Garland was instructing Rhaenys on how to hold her sword. The laughter of the two children was particularly clear in the garden.

Euron's eyes showed genuine admiration as he said, "Galan is indeed a brave and good boy, and I like him very much. However, as you said, they are all still too young. Let's discuss this matter again in a few years."

Lady Olenna did not immediately agree because Caesar's current position was awkward. Euron did not immediately agree because he did not want anyone to exploit Rhaenys Targaryen's bloodline.

The two rulers exchanged a smile, tacitly changing the subject to discuss rose cultivation techniques. In this most beautiful garden in Westeros, a potential marriage had just been casually mentioned and then casually set aside—like those budding roses, whether they would bloom remained to be seen.

The rose garden in the morning light was as beautiful as a dream, with dewdrops sparkling like diamonds on the layers of petals.

Euron and Lady Olenna strolled leisurely among them, occasionally stopping to admire a rare "Twilight Blue Rose" or comment on a newly cultivated "Golden Crown Bicolor".

Duke Mays, the "Inflatable Fish," attempted to get to the point for the third time: "Regarding our profit sharing on the Steps Isles—"

"My dear," Lady Olena gracefully trimmed a superfluous side shoot, the silver shears flashing coldly in the morning light, "can't you see we're admiring this 'Sunset Gold' from the Summer Islands?"

Euron was bending down to inhale the fragrance of a white rose, seemingly oblivious to Mace's words. He casually plucked a half-open "Morning Mist Veil" and tucked it into Lady Olenna's lapel: "This color suits your elegance perfectly."

The Duke of Metz's cheeks involuntarily puffed out, making him look like an annoyed pufferfish. He watched helplessly as the two continued discussing rose grafting techniques, and could only retreat to the side, his fingers unconsciously tugging at an innocent rose leaf.

Only after Euron went to accompany the children to practice swordsmanship did Lady Olenna slowly turn around, her gaze piercing her son like a dagger.

Her voice was very low, but every word was clear: "Fool, can't you see? Duke Euron is on a sightseeing trip with his wife and children. He has no interest in the numbers in the account book."

Her sharp gaze swept over her son's flushed face: "When someone is willing to spend the whole morning chatting and admiring flowers with you, it means they value friendship, not business. Your eagerness to talk about gold and silver is simply a disgrace to High Court's hospitality."

Mays opened his mouth, but ultimately lowered his head under his mother's stern gaze. In the distance, the laughter of children practicing swordsmanship drifted from the training field, while in this vibrant rose garden, a mother was giving her son the most important lesson: some cooperation...

The foundation of a relationship is often built on friendships outside of business.