Chapter 54: The Tower of Highgarden
On the very day Dragonzel arrived at Horn Hill, Highgarden also welcomed its distinguished guests: Ser Monde Hightower and Prince Daeron Targaryen, who was fostered in Oldtown. The young prince would become Ser Monde's squire at an appropriate time. The heir of House Hightower brought a formidable retinue of 800 people, including 60 landed knights.
The Lord of Highgarden, the young Lord Loras Tyrell, could not refuse their arrival. Fortunately, his wife, Lady Zhenxiya of House Fossoway, was exceptionally capable. Otherwise, Highgarden would have been turned upside down by the Hightowers.
Lady Zhenxiya prepared a luxurious palace with a garden for the heir of Hightower and the young prince. Marble fountains, lush flowerbeds, and ancient towering trees filled the grounds. The Tyrell family even diverted underground water to construct a bathing chamber capable of providing hot water at any time.
Even the fastidious Monde Hightower could find no fault with the arrangements.
"Prince," Monde said as he walked toward Daeron, who was deeply engrossed in reading books from Highgarden's vast collection.
"Uncle," the young prince replied, only noticing Monde's presence after hearing his voice. He quickly stood and bowed respectfully. "My apologies, it was my fault."
Monde gently stroked the young prince's short silver hair.
"A love for reading is a good thing. Oldtown possesses the largest library in Westeros. When you are older, I will show you the books preserved within the Citadel."
"So Uncle, why aren't we waiting in Oldtown for Dragonzel and my…" Daeron paused slightly.
"…strong nephew," he whispered the latter term.
"I remember the letter said his grand tour would reach Oldtown."
"Highgarden is more suitable than Oldtown, Your Highness," Monde replied, placing his hand on the prince's shoulder instead of answering directly.
"Neither Hightower nor Tyrell has suitable girls of age. Having both houses host the prince together will better demonstrate the enthusiasm of the Reach's great lords."
"Moreover, it can save the prince's time. Dorne is still at war."
The moment war was mentioned, Daeron's eyes lit up. No young boy could remain calm at the mention of battle.
"Uncle, what is the current situation of the Dornish war? And why aren't we participating?"
"The prince has already captured all the territories along the Stone Way," Monde explained calmly.
"Now, due to the internal struggles between the three self-proclaimed kings in the heart of Dorne, many Dornish have fled to the prince's domain."
"Ports, cities, and castles are currently being constructed there, and the prince provides the refugees with bread and copper coins."
"Your Highness, war is not that simple. If we were to participate in the name of the realm, it would become a disaster."
Daeron nodded slowly, half understanding.
"A letter from King's Landing says that my two brothers will participate at the appropriate time. What about me? Tessarion can already carry people, though she cannot fly very far."
— Prince Daeron's dragon — was a small cobalt-blue dragon with bright copper-colored claws and a crown of horns. Unfortunately, she was still very young and had no other dragon to accompany her in flight, so she remained in Oldtown for the time being.
"Listen carefully, Your Highness," Monde said quietly as he leaned closer.
"Unless Tessarion grows large enough to withstand arrows and spears, neither King's Landing nor we will permit you to join the war."
"Ah…" Daeron sighed in disappointment.
"Your Highness, Prince Dragonzel represents an entirely new force," Monde continued in a low voice.
"The situation of the realm has changed, but we are one step late."
"Princess Rhaenyra has already placed a heavy bet on him. The presence of the two Strongs accompanying him explains everything."
"To reclaim your brother's inheritance, we need allies… or at least ensure the Silver Dragon family remains neutral."
"What should I do?" Daeron asked blankly, his clear eyes filled with confusion.
"Show him the true bearing of royal blood," Monde whispered.
"Leave a good impression on him."
"At the very least, you must be better than the Strongs. After all, you carry the blood of the Dragon Kings — silver hair and purple eyes."
"Leave the rest to us."
Daeron nodded again, though he still did not fully understand.
Horn Hill – The Main Hall
"Ser Harlon, why don't you speak more clearly?" Lord Tarly asked coldly as he stared at the uninvited guest.
"Horn Hill respects guests, but uninvited guests are another matter."
Dragonzel silently watched Harlon Tyrell without speaking, seemingly waiting for him to continue.
"Prince," Harlon said after a moment's hesitation, finally deciding to speak directly.
"The Tyrell family hopes to gain your support."
"Do you realize what you are saying?" Lord Tarly snapped, stepping forward.
"You want a royal prince to take sides?"
"Donald, let Ser Harlon finish," Dragonzel said calmly as he entered the hall.
He motioned for everyone to sit.
Lord Tarly reluctantly released Harlon and escorted Dragonzel to the main seat before sitting opposite the Tyrell knight.
"Prince," Harlon began with a sigh.
"The situation in the Reach is extremely complicated, not something that can be explained in a few words."
"The Tyrell family is nominally the Lord Paramount of the Reach and ruler of Highgarden, yet our control over the region's nobles is weaker than that of other great houses."
"Lord Tarly's departure is an even greater loss."
"As members of House Tyrell, we all find such an outcome difficult to accept."
"But Lord Tarly's allegiance to me is also legitimate," Dragonzel said with a faint smile.
"After all, I am now the frontier governor of the Dornish Marches."
"Or has Highgarden prepared better terms?"
"We are well aware of that, Prince," Harlon replied quickly.
"We only hope for your support at a crucial moment."
"Highgarden can provide all the assistance you require."
"We require no assistance at present," Dragonzel replied, resting his chin on clasped hands.
"A matter that can be handled by a prince and several lords hardly requires the involvement of a Lord Paramount."
"Grain, gold, population, artisans," Harlon said.
"Prince, assistance is not limited to armies."
"How do you intend to transport these goods?" Lord Tarly frowned.
"Cart after cart so that the entire Reach knows Highgarden is supporting the war in Dorne?"
"No," Harlon answered quickly.
"There is more than one method."
"The prince can issue an edict within the Reach to recruit artisans. Thousands of skilled craftsmen will willingly travel to your lands."
"Highgarden urgently needs the high-quality products produced in your territory."
"We can purchase Varezes silk, glassware, wine, and ironwork at premium prices."
"Your merchants can also purchase grain at preferential rates."
"Please convey my gratitude to House Tyrell," Dragonzel said.
"So what must I give in return?"
"Publicly declare Lord Loras my friend?"
"Or ride a dragon to Highgarden for a ceremonial visit?"
"Prince… if such a thing were possible, the Tyrell family would forever be grateful," Harlon said eagerly.
But when he noticed Dragonzel's half-smiling expression, his enthusiasm faded slightly.
"Prince… we have only one request."
"We hope that one day a daughter of House Varezes might marry a descendant of Lord Loras… or become the consort of a future son of your house."
"Oh?" Dragonzel's expression did not change.
"Donald, do you believe your family could compete with the royal house?"
"We have no such ambition," Harlon said quickly, bowing.
"A blood tie alone would give us strong support. House Tyrell will support all of your decisions."
"I will consider it," Dragonzel said calmly.
"Please convey that to Lord Loras."
"I value his friendship and hope he will not break his word."
"I will deliver your message, Your Highness," Harlon replied with a broad smile.
"Your Highness, now it is our turn," Lord Tarly said after Harlon finally finished speaking.
His squire brought forward the Valyrian steel sword.
Lord Tarly knelt before Dragonzel.
"I, Lord Donald of House Tarly, Lord of Horn Hill, swear my fealty to Prince Dragonzel of House Varezes."
"The swift hunters shall forever serve as the vanguard of the Silver Dragon until bows break and bloodlines fade."
"I swear this by the blood of and before the old gods and the new."
He raised Heartsbane above his head.
"I accept your fealty," Dragonzel said as he rose.
He took the sword, tapped Lord Tarly's shoulder twice in ceremony, and then returned the blade to him with both hands.
"The Tyrell family bears witness," Ser Harlon said.
"May your hunting bow remain strong."
"Very well," Dragonzel said with a faint smile as he looked directly into Lord Tarly's eyes.
"Now it is time to discuss another matter."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you like the story please give it some power stones and reviews. And if you want to read 40+ advance chapters or just want to support me please join my patreon at [email protected]/Translatingfanfics