Shared Honor and Disgrace

Her lower abdomen slowly tightened. Margaery Tyrell, that beautiful Little Rose, revealed undisguised adoration in her pool-deep eyes.

Her gaze remained fixed on him, and the corners of her lips lifted into a shy, sweet smile.

Gryn felt the air around them become steeped in her tender affection, warm and cozy, as though the entire world had been reduced to only him, her... and this tranquil warmth.

The corners of Gryn's mouth rose slightly as well as he watched her walk lightly toward him.

There was none of the fervor of their past nighttime meetings. She merely lowered herself before him, gently resting her cheek against his knee while gazing at the warm flames in the hearth.

One hand stroked the hem of his robe as she murmured, "With you here, I feel so safe, darling."

Gryn raised a brow but said nothing. Looking at her waterfall of lovely hair, he reached out and stroked it, the strands slipping through his fingers.

Lord Gryn was perceptive enough, and he had become increasingly familiar with Margaery Tyrell. It seemed she intended to slowly cultivate a "precious" bond between a man and a woman with him.

What was her purpose?

As Gryn pondered, Margaery's soft voice drifted over. "I miss Grandmother so much... and the sea of wildflowers in Highgarden's fields..."

"Highgarden truly is beautiful."

Gryn replied quietly, his hand continuing to run through her light brown hair, though his thoughts had drifted elsewhere.

Robert, Renly, Joffrey, Tommen, and the Lord Regent and Small Council's decision to bring back the Targaryen princess—all of it meant that Margaery's path to becoming Queen had been utterly severed. That queen's crown was no longer meant for her.

After failure and disappointment time and again, had she finally let go?

So, had she decided to settle