Under Riverrun

The tent was hung with the sigils of Reach nobles. On the long table covered in white linen, golden, crispy roast chicken and a huge roast boar gave off an enticing aroma, accompanied by platters of fresh fruit and exquisite desserts.

Silver tableware gleamed in the firelight, goblets were filled with rich wine, and musicians played cheerful tunes for the lords of the Reach nearby.

Gryn truly understood his art of war!

Lord Mace's eyes narrowed into slits as he stroked his beard and sighed. "A pity he is not my child."

He had long planned for the second siege of Storm's End, intending to use a splendid victory to prove his military prowess to the Seven Kingdoms.

Unfortunately... Ser Gilbert Farring, the acting lord of Storm's End, had chosen to hold the castle to the last.

At the thought, Lord Mace could not help growing irritated. According to his original plan, Storm's End should have surrendered and begged for pardon. Then, wherever the rose banners appeared, the lords of the Stormlands would have surrendered one after another. He would have swept across the Stormlands in short order and become another famed commander known throughout the Seven Kingdoms.

The trebuchets... had been a choice forced upon him!

Yet he had also heard certain rumors from the Red Keep. Some people were secretly mocking his art of war, even calling him the master of ceremonies beneath Storm's End!

A sneer crossed Lord Mace's lips. What did those people know about the art of war? A siege was a long process. If he did not hold feasts, how was he supposed to maintain the morale of the lords and knights?

Lord Mace stroked his beard. Although... the art of war of I, Mace Tyrell, had yet to leave the Reach, Gryn was