Ser Garlan was not satisfied with his life in the Red Keep these days. To be precise, he was deeply unhappy.
The New Crownlands were vast, encompassing the Old Crownlands, the Riverlands, and the Stormlands. Every day brought a mountain of administrative affairs, with no end in sight for Ser Garlan.
On top of that, Queen Daenerys needed more rest during her pregnancy, while House Tyrell stood firmly behind the Targaryen-Crabb royal family. They ought to shoulder more responsibility—
And then there were his father's increasingly stern demands for supplies to be sent north—
The novelty of bearing the kingdom's heavy responsibilities for the first time had quietly worn away. Ser Garlan could only grit his teeth and endure. Sometimes, he felt as though life was no longer worth living.
Sometimes, he even missed the Red Keep of Tywin and Joffrey's time. Back then, all he had to do was protect Margaery, though he had never thought much of the Lannisters' treacherous ways.
Ser Garlan sighed inwardly, then straightened in his seat and accepted the letter from the official.
The letter's contents—
Unsurprisingly, his father—the Lord of Highgarden and Hand of the King of the Seven Kingdoms—was once again urging him, a small council member, to move faster. The reason was that the waters around Eastwatch-by-the-Sea were about to freeze, and the great battle that would determine the fate of the Seven Kingdoms was near.
The only comfort was that his father's tone had grown somewhat gentler this time. Ser Garlan had never missed that endlessly kind father of his so much—
Garlan rubbed his head in frustration. With Margaery's cooperation at Highgarden, ship after ship laden with supplies from the Reach was heading north to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea according to plan.
What irritated him most lately were those cunning merchants