Game Of Thrones: The God-Emperor of Planetos-Chapter 84 - - House Of Tyrell (III)

"I want him, even if I never really have him all to myself." Margaery Tyrell, the White Rose.

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Sitting at the head seat of the High Garden table, Aenar looked at Olenna and commented with an amused tone.

"Before I came to the High Garden, I flew over King's Landing. They were happy to see Caraxes spitting flames over the city."

Olenna stopped her drinking and looked deeply at the king. Her lips curved into a sarcastic smile.

"Tywin must have loved the show."

The Queen of Thorns knew that the young king's words had another purpose: a warning to House Tyrell. Basically, he was saying that everyone knew he was coming to High Garden and that no one would believe that House Tyrell wouldn't bend the knee to survive. It was quite a shrewd move and, considering his age, Olenna knew that the young king was not inexperienced in court affairs.

"He's probably more desperate to fill his coffers." Aenar said, bringing the glass of wine to his lips, not caring if it was poisoned.

Olenna looked at Aenar with a brief expression of surprise. Tywin worried about gold? She would never have thought that such words could be associated with the rich and powerful Tywin Lannister.

Olenna's mind quickly searched for options that could make Tywin worry about gold and found the answer.

"Are the gold mines running out?" Olenna asked with a glare. If that were really the case, then House Tyrell would currently be the strongest House in Westeros. Without money, the Westerlands weren't so dangerous, as they couldn't support an army of fifty thousand men.

Aenar liked to talk to intelligent people. He didn't even need to explain, and Olenna had already found the reason for his words.

"Lady Olenna is as intelligent as the rumors say." Aenar complimented the woman with a glare. "Won't you become my Master of Coin?"

This time it was the turn of everyone at the table to look at the young king with expressions of surprise. Even Olenna looked at Aenar with an amused look.

"The vain lords will be uncomfortable with a woman in power." Olenna replied in a calm tone as she sipped her wine.

"Let them feel uncomfortable, I don't care what they think." Aenar sipped the wine from her glass and replied with an indifferent tone. "I don't care what's between a person's legs. As long as it's useful to me, I can even put a horse on the Small Council. If they don't like my decisions, they can leave; there are other people who can take their place."

Olenna's eyes shone with intensity, and she looked at the young king with an unexpected gaze.

"I'm glad of the invitation, but I'd rather spend the rest of my days in this relaxed land. I've long since left the intrigues of the court." Olenna responded to Aenar's words with a calm, deep tone. Her eyes had analyzed his every action, expression and word since they began talking. All to understand what Aenar's character was.

"What a shame, I'd love to have Lady Olenna by my side with Tyrion. The two of you would get on very well." Aenar said in a disappointed voice. He wasn't lying when he said that; he really wanted Olenna as his Left Hand, next to Tyrion, who was his Right Hand.

"Tyrion Lannister? Tywin's son?" Olenna looked at Aenar strangely and asked with a hint of incredulity in her voice. Not in her wildest dreams could she have imagined that Tyrion Lannister had bent the knee to the enemy of House Lannister, let alone that Aenar could forgive him.

Noticing the incredulity on Olenna's face, Aenar commented in an amused tone: "What can I do? I'm a persuasive man. Tyrion has agreed to be my Hand."

"Your Grace is very open-minded. Many would have killed Tyrion for much less." Olenna gave Aenar a deep look. She finally believed that Aenar was different from all the men she had met in her long life.

Aenar smiled and replied: "I'm not a monster, Lady Olenna. The only people I want dead are Tywin, Joffrey, my cousin Robert and Gregor Clegane. The others can bend the knee and survive. I'm a benevolent monarch."

He wasn't lying, at least not yet. The entire system of government in Westeros would remain the same for some time. When he began his reforms, he would eliminate any rebels who didn't accept the new rules he had made. For now, he would forgive them all.

"Although I can't hold the position of Master of Coin, my grandson Willas is as competent as I am." Olenna said.

"If he's as competent as Lady Olenna says, I don't mind having Willas on my Small Council. But if he's a worthless piece of crap, I'll oust him without any hesitation. I don't need no good-for-nothings on my Small Council." Aenar spoke in a harsh tone, not hiding what she would do to Willas if he wasn't a good fit for the position of Master of Coin.

Olenna wasn't offended by Aenar's words; on the contrary, she looked at the young monarch with an even more appreciative gaze. "I would do the same, Your Grace. Don't hesitate to remove the useless and put the competent on the Small Council. Many monarchs have gotten this wrong, causing great losses to the kingdom."

Aenar nodded and, just as he was about to speak, the doors to the dining hall opened abruptly. A young man rushed in, with an anxious expression on his handsome face. Green and gold armor framed his slim, seemingly frail body.

"I assume this is my new Master of Coin." Aenar commented with an amused tone.

"Willas, this is Aenar Targaryen, First of His Name. You are the new Master of Coin of the Small Council." Ignoring her grandson's surprised expression, Olenna spoke directly, without beating about the bush.

Willas, who had crossed the hall as quickly as he could, felt his breath catch for a moment when he heard his grandmother's words. Master of Coin... him?

Recovering from his stupor, Willas understood that this was the position his grandmother had obtained for him. He approached Aenar with his crutch and did not hesitate to kneel before the young monarch, who was sitting in the main seat, with Olenna on his left and Mace Tyrell on his right.

"I am Willas of House Tyrell, Your Grace." He said, facing the young man with silver hair and violet eyes who was watching him intently.

"Rise, my Master of Coin." Aenar replied with a firm, majestic tone. At that moment, his aura changed completely. He no longer seemed just gentle and courteous, but a true king.

Margaery and Loras, who were watching the scene from afar, couldn't help but stare at Aenar with growing admiration. Margaery, in particular, would have displayed an expression not at all appropriate for an unmarried lady, had her family not been present.

Willas stood up with some difficulty and bowed. "Thank you, Your Grace. I won't let you down."

To say he wasn't excited would be a lie. He had always wanted to do something besides being Lord of the High Garden and Lord Paramount of Mander. Now he had the chance to accomplish something great and leave his name in history.

"Oberyn, my Master of Laws, spoke very highly of you, Lord Willas." Aenar commented with a smile as he saw Willas sit down next to Margaery. Although he had not yet made Oberyn official as Master of Laws, he was prepared to do so in the future.

The instant Oberyn's name was mentioned, the big smile of Mace Tyrell, Lord of the High Garden, turned slightly grim. If there was anyone Mace hated deeply, it was Oberyn Martell. Willas had been crippled because of him, but, surprisingly, the two had become great friends.

Willas' smile grew when he heard that his longtime friend had been chosen as Master of Laws on the Small Council of Aenar.

"Dorne and the Reach." Olenna commented with a keen eye. As House Tyrell had already accepted Aenar as their monarch, it was time to prepare for war. Having two kingdoms on their side was already a great advantage.

"The North, Dorne and the Reach." Aenar corrected Olenna gently, causing her to look at him with an expression of complete shock.

Then, remembering Aenar's origins, Olenna muttered: "Honorable, loyal, silent? Even a wolf can lie."

"Is the North with us, Your Grace?" Olenna asked with a deep look.

"Yes. My uncle Eddard Stark, of House Stark and Lord of the North, has already bent the knee." Aenar nodded, confirming Olenna's thoughts.

"Your Grace was raised in the North, wasn't he? Eddard Stark's bastard." Although it was a question, Olenna was certain of her words.

This chapter is updat𝓮d by freēnovelkiss.com.

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