Bloodline 14

Pufferfish Lord let out a heavy snort. He stopped some distance away, flicked his green cloak embroidered with golden roses, puffed out his broad, fleshy chest, and held his chin high.

"At your request, I have come, Lord Gryn Crabb!"

Having spoken loudly, his snort echoed once more through the silent, cavernous Throne Room.

"Welcome."

Gryn's utterly emotionless voice drifted down from above. "...And I am pleased that House Tyrell has chosen peace."

Lord Mace maintained his imposing stance. "I came for the king, and for my daughter!"

He glanced around. "Where is my Margaery?"

After waiting a while and seeing Gryn merely look at him in silence, Lord Mace seemed to think of something, and a flash of anger suddenly crossed his eyes.

Shouldn't Margaery have been here?

"Where is she?"

Gryn still did not respond, continuing to gaze down at him in silence. Pufferfish Lord found it increasingly difficult to maintain his dignified pose.

He raised his voice, tinged with anger. "Do you intend to betray the honor of your House?!"

Then he continued, "Do not think that joining hands with Martell means you can sway the Seven Kingdoms. Let me tell you: they deeply hate Baratheon and Lannister. Those Dornishmen will only bring greater chaos to the Seven Kingdoms."

He lifted his chin even higher. "Without Tyrell support, the Iron Throne will never know peace."

Having delivered the lines he had specially prepared in advance, Lord Mace nodded to himself in satisfaction. His outstanding performance would surely earn praise throughout The Reach... no, throughout all Seven Kingdoms, and the maesters writing True History would record this day with the highest acclaim.

As for Margaery's safety, he was not truly worried. He knew Gryn could not possibly harm her. Only a despicable House like Lannister could commit such