Lynd froze upon hearing the Queen of Thorns' words but quickly grasped the situation and responded with a serious tone: “Although we are not engaged, I have already made a promise to Lady Nyria of Tumbleton.”
“Just a promise?” The Queen of Thorns regarded Lynd with a hint of interest.
“Although it is only a promise, it is still a commitnt—a commitnt from a man, and one that cannot be changed,” Lynd emphasized firmly.
“What a pity,” the Queen of Thorns remarked, seemingly reading Lynd's thoughts, and chose not to continue the conversation.
So of the noble ladies nearby exchanged glances, their expressions betraying disappointnt. A few even harbored a flicker of envy toward Nyria. Realizing there was no longer any chance of a marriage alliance with Lynd, the Queen of Thorns seed to lose interest in him altogether. After a brief and polite conversation, she instructed Garlan to escort Lynd out.
Lynd left the eting feeling puzzled. It had been a surprisingly casual encounter. He had co fully prepared to engage with the Queen of Thorns, anticipating her shrewdness, yet the eting had felt underwhelming. He couldn’t quite understand why she had requested to see him in the first place. These unanswered questions lingered as he returned to his camp.
Later, while discussing the eting with his subordinate Jon—who had stopped by to congratulate him on his recent promotion—the answer suddenly beca clear.
Jon’s comnt about House Tyrell lacking suitable won to marry Lynd unraveled the mystery. As it turned out, those who could potentially be matched with him were either already engaged, married, too young, or separated from him by a significant difference in status.
At that mont, Lynd realized the Queen of Thorns had never intended to propose a marriage alliance with House Tyrell. Instead, her objective had been to subtly dissuade the noble families of The Reach from entertaining the idea of marrying their daughters to him. By prompting Lynd to speak openly about his commitnt to Lady Nyria, she had effectively sent a ssage to these families through his own words.
From House Tyrell’s perspective, it would have been ideal for Lynd to marry into their house, strengthening their influence through a marriage alliance.
However, no suitable match existed within House Tyrell. Little Rose was still a child, far too young for consideration, and even if she were of age, the gap in status between her and Lynd would have made such a union highly unlikely. A more realistic option might have been to find a noblewoman from a cadet branch of House Tyrell with a fitting rank, but even this solution proved unattainable.
In light of this, House Tyrell’s priority shifted to ensuring that Lynd did not marry into any of the powerful noble families in The Reach, which could potentially challenge their position. By orchestrating this eting, the Queen of Thorns had cleverly achieved this objective. Through Lynd’s own declaration, she had made it clear to the assembled noble houses that there was no possibility of a marriage alliance with him. This maneuver allowed House Tyrell to neutralize a potential threat while avoiding bla or offense from the other nobles.
As for Lynd’s commitnt to Lady Nyria, it was clear that House Tyrell viewed it as inconsequential. Compared to the great noble houses of The Reach, House Footly of Tumbleton, small in population and situated on the region’s border, barely registered on their radar.
Moreover, even if Tumbleton grew in power, it was more likely to pose a threat to the Westerlands, Stormlands, or Riverlands than to House Tyrell.
Reflecting on the eting, Lynd couldn’t help but admire the Queen of Thorns’ unmatched political skill. With one seemingly casual conversation, she had solved a major problem for House Tyrell without so much as a scratch to their reputation. The way she achieved her goals with such subtle precision was both awe-inspiring and unnerving. Every word she spoke felt calculated, crafted to serve her purpose.
Lynd kept his distance from such a character. Even if he had to et the Queen of Thorns again in the future, he resolved to say and do as little as possible, minimizing the risk of being manipulated by her.
Following his promotion to Lord, Lynd granted his subordinates two days off, allowing them to visit Lannisport for sightseeing. However, he strictly required them to go in groups for safety. As a gesture of appreciation, he distributed a sum of money to reward everyone in the cavalry patrols. Even the grooms who tended to the warhorses received five silver stags each.
Soon after, King Robert unexpectedly sent an etiquette officer to prepare Lynd for a victory celebration banquet that evening. The officer’s duties included teaching Lynd court etiquette—much of which he already knew—and presenting more than a dozen luxurious noble outfits for him to try on. After adjusting a few pieces for a better fit, they settled on a final ensemble.
“Ordinarily, weapons are not permitted at such events,” the etiquette officer inford him, pausing montarily before adding, “but His Grace insists that a valiant knight such as yourself is incomplete without his weapons. He said, and I quote, ‘It’s like a woman without makeup.’ So, you are granted permission to wear your weapons at the banquet. Additionally, your pet may accompany you, but do ensure it causes no harm to anyone.”
“Understood,” Lynd replied with a nod.
While preparations for the banquet were underway, news of Lynd’s knighthood and his elevation to Lord—granted by Lord Mace Tyrell along with a fiefdom—spread like wildfire through Lannisport, leaving everyone astounded. Lynd had only been a knight for less than two years, barely the start of a typical knight’s career. In the Seven Kingdoms, countless individuals remained knights their entire lives without advancing further. Yet Lynd had managed to leap across two significant social strata that most would never cross: the class of landowning knights and the class of titled nobility. Now, he was a Lord, fiefdom in hand. Even if the territory was poor, it was still land, and even a minor Lord was still a Lord.
Many speculated that Lynd’s rise was not solely due to his skills and accomplishnts but was heavily influenced by the Faith of the Seven. His impressive performance in the rebellion suppression had bolstered the status of his supporters in the Church of the Seven, particularly the Most Devout of the Starry Sept, indirectly advancing Lynd’s career as well.
Fully aware of this, Lynd made a deliberate gesture before the banquet: he went to the Sept of the Seven in Lannisport to pray, ensuring that his act of devotion was visible to all.
Although Lynd’s sudden elevation to Lord stirred envy and admiration, the focus of the populace was less on him and more on House Tyrell. By raising Lynd to nobility, House Tyrell cleverly used his promotion as a ans to enhance their own reputation. The ssage was clear: with ability, one could achieve greatness under their patronage.
Even though most knew that another success story like Lynd’s would be rare—and not only due to his talent but also because the Tyrells had no insignificant enclaves left to distribute—it didn’t stop ambitious hedge knights from dreaming. For the foreseeable future, House Tyrell would be the top choice for skilled knights seeking to rise.
The other great houses wished to emulate this tactic but faced significant barriers. Outside of the Starks in the North, whose vast lands were often unproductive, the territories controlled by the major lords were tightly held. The land of Westeros had been divided for thousands of years, leaving little to spare. And even rarer than available land were knights of Lynd’s caliber, whose skills and influence could make such promotions worthwhile.
Despite the stir caused by Lynd’s elevation, attention shifted as King Robert’s celebration banquet approached. The banquet wasn’t rely a festive gathering; it was also an occasion where the King would announce rewards for the loyal Lords and nobles who had distinguished themselves, as well as punishnts for the Ironborn Lords involved in the rebellion.
The banquet was held not in Casterly Rock but in the royal encampnt on the outskirts of Lannisport. Thanks to his prayers at the Sept, Lynd arrived at the encampnt just as the banquet was about to begin. No one stopped him for checks upon entry; the Glory by his side was proof enough of his identity.
Guided by a royal servant, Lynd entered the banquet venue. By then, all the nobles of Lannisport who had received invitations were already present. The mont Lynd stepped inside, every gaze turned toward him—the rising star of the Seven Kingdoms. The looks ranged from envy to jealousy, hostility to disdain. If their glances could be transford into colorful lights, Lynd mused, the room might resemble a nightclub from his previous life.
However, when their gazes shifted to Glory, standing tall beside Lynd, expressions of fear crept across their faces. For so, fear was mingled with a faint glimr of greed.
Although it was a banquet, the atmosphere was far from lively. Unlike the previous gathering in the Great Hall of the Red Keep, where attendees had mingled freely and engaged in casual conversation, the nobles had now separated into distinct groups based on their kingdoms and statuses, a silent reminder of their hierarchy.
Lynd’s eyes swept across the venue until he located the area reserved for the nobles of The Reach. There, standing with Lord Mace Tyrell, was Garlan, who noticed Lynd and waved at him. Lynd approached, guided by Garlan, and found himself standing once again beside Randyll Tarly.
The surrounding nobles were all prominent figures from The Reach—Lords and individuals of special status, such as Garlan, the second son of House Tyrell. Not a single knight stood among them. It was the sa in the areas representing the other kingdoms, with one exception: The North. Their group included a mber of the Night’s Watch, clearly seizing the opportunity to arrange for a transfer of prisoners to The Wall.
Once Lynd stood beside him, Randyll Tarly ended his conversation with the Lord of House Peake of Starpike. Turning to Lynd, he remarked in his usual forthright manner, “Red Watch is not an easy place to govern. You’ll have to deal with Lords from the Stormlands and Dorne, and there are plenty of wildling tribes in the area. It’s said they’ve even elected so sort of wildling king. If you’re short on n, I can lend you a few.”
“Thank you, Lord Tarly. If the need arises, I will certainly reach out to you,” Lynd replied, recognizing the goodwill in Tarly’s offer. Without hesitation, he asked, “Lord Tarly, do you know where I might find skilled masons capable of building a castle?”
Randyll Tarly replied matter-of-factly, “You don’t need to concern yourself with that. Now that you’re a Lord, you can apply to the Citadel for a Maester. Submit a request, and the Citadel will select a suitable Maester for you. Building a castle, though, isn’t a small endeavor—it’s costly and ti-consuming. You’ll need to plan carefully.”
“I understand. Thank you for the advice,” Lynd said, expressing his gratitude.
Randyll Tarly’s eyes lingered on Glory, who stood proudly beside Lynd. “Is it still growing? I’ve heard it went from a cub to this size in just a year.”
“It took less than a year,” Lynd corrected, a faint trace of pride in his tone.
Their conversation was interrupted by the booming voice of the court master of ceremonies, who stepped forward before the King’s seat. He announced loudly, “Welco His Grace Robert of House Baratheon, King of the Andals and the First n, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms; Her Grace Queen Cersei of the House Lannister, Light of the West; Lord Stannis of the House Baratheon, Lord of Dragonstone, Master of Ships, and Warden of the Stormlands; and Lord Renly of the House Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End.”
As each title was proclaid, King Robert entered the banquet hall, accompanied by his wife and brothers. The crowd watched as they arrived, imdiately noticing the sour expressions of both Lord Stannis and Queen Cersei. Their tense deanor hinted at so earlier quarrel. King Robert, however, remained cheerful, smiling as if completely unbothered by the tension around him. anwhile, Renly Baratheon, nearly the sa age as Loras Tyrell, walked in with his shoulders squared, clearly attempting to project an air of maturity.
Once seated, King Robert’s gaze swept across the hall, pausing briefly on Lynd and Glory. His surprise was evident, especially as his eyes rested on Glory, but he quickly masked his reaction. Turning to the gathered Lords and nobles, he addressed them with the sa energy that defined him. “Rebellion must be punished, and loyalty rewarded. We’re not here just to eat and drink—though I won’t deny that’s a good part of it. As your King, I’ll not waste your ti. Grand Maester Pycelle, read out the rewards!”
Grand Maester Pycelle, who had traveled from King’s Landing the previous day, shuffled forward. With trembling hands, he unrolled a parchnt and began to read. The nas of the Wardens of the regions were called out first, accompanied by the rewards for their service. The Wardens, already aware of their rewards, displayed little emotion. After hearing their nas and titles, they bowed to the King in acknowledgnt.
When the list of rewards for the Wardens was complete, Pycelle retrieved a second scroll. This one contained the nas of minor nobles who had distinguished themselves in the war. Among them were the Reeds, who had aided Lynd in reclaiming Moat Cailin, and the Freys, whose hand had been forced by Lynd to send troops. Each na was followed by a description of their contributions and the corresponding rewards.
When Jorah Mormont’s na was called, he stepped forward to request knighthood as a reward for his deeds. Having fought bravely and been the first to reach Pyke Castle, where he personally beheaded Maron Greyjoy, Jorah’s request was granted. In front of the assembled nobles, King Robert perford the knighting ceremony and remarked, “The last man I knighted was Lord Lynd Tarran. I hope your future accomplishnts will match his, and I trust you won’t disappoint .”
Jorah, visibly moved by the honor, thanked the King, unaware of the path his destiny would take.
The ceremony continued as Grand Maester Pycelle read the last na on the list of rewards. Only then did the crowd realize that Lynd, a central figure in the rebellion, was conspicuously absent from the list. Murmurs of confusion rippled through the hall as everyone’s attention turned to King Robert and Lynd, their gazes filled with questions.
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