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Highgarden.
More precisely, the second Highgarden.
Most of the castle's buildings had been raised during the reign of King Mern VI Gardener.
Only the tallest towers at the center were truly ancient, dating back to the Age of Heroes.
Inside Highgarden, green, gold, and white danced together.
Beautiful as it was, almost nothing of the Greenhand's true legacy remained.
"What if…?" Arthur thought with quiet regret. He still hoped for a stroke of luck.
Garlan Tyrell, the second son of the rose, personally acted as guide.
He led his younger brother Loras and little sister Margaery, escorting Arthur Whent through the castle.
Arthur's gold-and-black doublet stood out sharply among the sea of green roses.
Highgarden honored both the Old Gods and the New.
The castle possessed two great treasures.
The first was its magnificent sept dedicated to the Seven.
The second was the godswood containing the "Three Singers"—three colossal heart trees in homage to the Old Gods.
Garlan first took Arthur to see the Three Singers in the godswood.
The three white heart trees encircled a still pool, their branches intertwined after countless centuries until they looked like one gigantic tree with three trunks.
"These are the Three Singers, planted by Greenhand Garth himself," Garlan said proudly.
"Truly remarkable," Arthur replied, playing along.
"Of course they are. No other castle has anything like them," Loras declared, already wearing that signature cocky expression even as a boy.
Heart trees were notoriously difficult to keep alive.
The one at Raventree Hall had long since withered, yet Highgarden's still flourished.
The Isle of Faces in the Gods Eye had an entire grove, but no one dared set foot there.
It seemed even the Dornish had been wary; they had burned Highgarden but left the heart trees untouched.
Arthur began probing the Three Singers for any lingering trace of Greenhand power.
Nothing.
"Looks like these three heart trees are just that—trees. Perhaps only the burned Oak Throne ever received the Greenhand's true blessing?"
Arthur reached a preliminary conclusion.
"Come on, Arthur. The Three Singers have stood since the dawn of time. Next, let me show you the sept," Garlan offered.
Arthur followed him to Highgarden's sept.
The stained-glass windows here were every bit as intricate and beautiful as those in the Great Sept of Baelor in King's Landing or the Starry Sept in Oldtown.
Among all the great septs of the Seven Kingdoms, only Baelor's, the Starry Sept, the sept on Dragonstone, and Highgarden's enjoyed true fame.
The main difference was that Highgarden's sept featured numerous murals of Greenhand Garth alongside the Seven.
"This sept was built after the Andal invasion swept across the Seven Kingdoms. It was burned once by the Dornish," Garlan explained.
Garlan was no simple brute; he possessed both wisdom and martial skill.
Arthur nodded. Probing the sept yielded the same result—nothing.
If the Three Singers held no remnant of Greenhand power, a rebuilt sept had even less hope.
The sept had been constructed long after the Andal arrival and then rebuilt after being burned.
"Highgarden, like every other great castle, honors the heroes of the Age of Heroes," Garlan continued.
Highgarden revered the Greenhand; the Eyrie revered the Falcon Knight.
The Tyrells' connection to the Greenhand came through ten generations of marriage into the Gardener line.
Now the Tyrells, as converts, venerated the Greenhand even more devoutly than his actual descendants had.
"A truly ancient and storied house," Arthur said, matching Garlan's enthusiasm.
In truth, the Tyrell founder, Ser Alester, had been an Andal adventurer.
Like the Martells and Arryns, the Tyrells' paternal line was foreign.
The Arryns had been the hardest of the three, claiming kingship earliest.
The Falcon Knight had at least won his crown through clever shadow-play and direct conquest.
The Tyrells had been stewards; the Martells had clung to the Rhoynar.
Ser Alester had served King Garth V Gardener—one of the Three Sage Kings—becoming the king's champion and personal protector through sheer martial prowess.
Alester's eldest son had also been a famous knight but died in a tourney.
His second son, Gareth, was scholarly and never took knighthood, instead serving as royal steward. Both Gareth and his son Leo proved exceptionally capable, so the Gardeners made the Tyrells hereditary High Stewards.
"Please enter," the septons and septas welcomed the noble youths inside.
They stepped into Highgarden's sept. The air carried a faint, sweet fragrance.
The statues of the Seven were magnificent and noble, adorned with gold and jewels.
"I pray to the Warrior to make me strong, to make me a worthy knight," Loras Tyrell whispered, making his offering.
"You will succeed," Arthur said.
"I pray to the Maiden to guard my beauty and purity," little Margaery lisped, laying a rose before the Maiden's statue.
But a girl steeped in power would not remain pure forever.
"Quite valuable," Arthur thought.
He studied the seven divine statues.
These were not merely objects of faith but priceless works of art that sold for fortunes across the Narrow Sea.
Only someone as desperate as Stannis in the original timeline would burn a sept for power.
As a common man, Arthur was simply enjoying a touch of artistic refinement.
"Our two treasures of Highgarden are impressive, aren't they, Arthur?" Margaery asked proudly.
"Very impressive," Arthur replied, indulging the little brown-haired, brown-eyed doll.
"Actually, there used to be a third—the greatest of all—but it was destroyed," Garlan said with a sigh, gazing at the Father's statue.
"The Oak Throne?" Arthur asked.
"You know of the Oak Throne?" Garlan's eyes lit up. "The only thing more precious than the Three Singers or Highgarden's sept was that very throne."
"Of course I know," Arthur thought.
As a Greenhand, that was exactly why he had wanted to linger in Highgarden.
The Oak Throne had been the ancient seat of the Gardener Kings of the Reach.
Legend claimed it was no ordinary chair but had been carved from a living oak planted by Greenhand Garth himself.
Essentially, the trunk had been hollowed out while the tree still lived, forming the throne.
"The Oak Throne was so wondrous. What a shame later generations never got to see it," Arthur said with genuine regret.
"Don't worry, Arthur," Garlan reassured him. "After the original was destroyed, the Gardener kings had a new one carved from ordinary oak—though it wasn't living wood. The replica still sits in Highgarden's rebuilt Oak Hall. You'll see it at the feast tonight."
These Reachmen certainly knew how to console themselves.
Build a second Highgarden, then carve a second Oak Throne.
Since he was already here, Arthur decided he would test his luck in the Oak Hall during the evening feast.
...
That night, Oak Hall.
This was the chamber that housed the Oak Throne, the true seat of power in the Reach, the place where Greenhand Garth had planted his oak.
The great hall of House Tyrell was bright and festive, ostensibly to welcome Arthur's party.
The roses were rich and knew how to enjoy life.
Arthur had come to Highgarden to open his eyes.
Only Oldtown's Hightowers and Casterly Rock's Lannisters could truly compare.
White stone walls displayed the banners of many houses: green for Tyrell, gold for Whent, pale purple for Dayne.
Singers plucked harps and sang throughout the hall.
"Long live Highgarden!"
"Long live House Tyrell!"
"Long live House Whent!"
"Long live House Dayne!"
The crowd cheered as Arthur sat on the high dais beneath the Oak Throne, thoroughly enjoying himself.
The pleasure came not only from the food.
It came from the faint, lingering traces of Greenhand power that now flowed toward him.
The dormant Greenhand essence lingering in this place had awakened.
Even though the original Oak Throne and Oak Hall had been burned by the Dornish, a tiny remnant had survived.
Now it drifted toward Arthur like schooling fish.
This—this was the true legacy of the Greenhand.
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