Dinner

As Samwell entered the banquet hall, the last glow of the setting sun had already begun to fade.

Thousands of scented candles illuminated the hall as brightly as day. Thick wool carpets covered the floor, soft and comfortable beneath his feet, as though he were walking on clouds.

Rows of long wooden tables stood in the center of the spacious hall, all draped in dark navy velvet and decorated with fresh roses in every color.

A faint fragrance filled the air, refreshing the spirit.

A finely dressed servant led Samwell to his seat and poured him a cup of golden wine from the Arbor.

There was still some time before the banquet began, yet many guests had already arrived, chatting softly in small groups.

Lord Randyll and his younger brother Dickon had also arrived, though their seats had not been arranged beside Samwell's.

Lord Randyll appeared not to notice his eldest son's arrival, lowering his head to sip his wine. Dickon, meanwhile, waved at his brother and seemed to want to come over for a chat, but after glancing at his stern-faced father beside him, he did not dare rise and wander off.

Before long, the master of the castle finally appeared.

The Lord of Highgarden looked to be in his fifties. His head of House Tyrell's signature curly brown hair was already streaked with gray. He was broad and burly, with a large belly, and many people privately called him "Lord Inflatable Fish."

Yet Lord Inflatable Fish was rosy-cheeked, loud-voiced, and firm of step. There was nothing about him that suggested he was "unwell."

Couldn't this guy even be bothered to keep up the pretense?

Samwell muttered to himself, but he still rose with everyone else to bow to the lord.

As Lord Mace took his seat at the head of the table, the banquet officially began.

Young and beautiful maidservants moved between the long tables like butterflies among flowers, serving dish after dish of exquisite food.

Salmon salad, charcoal-grilled venison haunch, pan-fried lamprey, creamy chestnut soup, honey pine nut cakes, freshly picked strawberries, and even Golden-Tailed Shrimp—a rare delicacy even on noble tables—made Samwell's mouth water.

This dinner was ostensibly meant to celebrate Samwell becoming a landed knight, but Lord Mace made no effort to conceal his dislike for the useless eldest son of House Tarly. After briefly introducing Sam, he immediately shifted the conversation elsewhere.

Naturally, everyone knew that Samwell had become a landed knight only because Lord Randyll wanted to replace his heir. No one believed that this famed useless fool of the Reach could truly carve out a new territory.

Some even whispered among themselves, snickering as they spread remarks about "a knight ordained by a woman."

Samwell decisively ignored the gossip and buried himself in eating.

But when he peeled open a Golden-Tailed Shrimp and stuffed its tender, juicy flesh into his mouth, Samwell suddenly froze.

Because he discovered that his Strength attribute had increased by 0.01!

Eating could raise attributes?

Was there really such a good thing?

In his excitement, Samwell swiftly cleared away the rest of the food as well.

Yet his attributes did not increase any further.

After taking a sip of wine and pondering for a moment, Samwell formed a guess.

He called over the maidservant behind him and said, "Could I have another serving of Golden-Tailed Shrimp, please?"

The maidservant looked at the fat knight before her and nodded while suppressing a laugh. "Of course. Please wait a moment."

When the second serving of Golden-Tailed Shrimp was placed before him, Samwell eagerly shoved it into his mouth.

Sure enough!

His Strength increased by another 0.01!

It really was the Golden-Tailed Shrimp. It could actually increase his Strength attribute.

Overjoyed, Samwell turned to call the maidservant over again. Ignoring the contemptuous looks cast his way, he ordered another serving.

He knew that Golden-Tailed Shrimp was an extraordinarily precious ingredient. Once he left the duke's castle, he would have to spend a fortune to buy it, and might not even be able to find any.

So there was no need to worry about banquet etiquette or noble dignity now.

Besides, he had long since lost any dignity to speak of among the nobles of the Reach.

But when Samwell finished the third Golden-Tailed Shrimp and seemed intent on having more, even Lord Mace could no longer stand it. He could not help asking, "Sam, are Golden-Tailed Shrimp really that delicious?"

Without changing expression, Samwell wiped his mouth with a napkin, rose, and bowed. "Yes, my lord. This is the most delicious dish I have ever tasted in my life. I lost my composure for a moment. Please forgive me."

Faced with Samwell's thick skin and lavish praise, Lord Mace found it difficult to say anything more. Otherwise, he would seem too stingy as the host.

"Then eat. Just don't stuff yourself too full, or I fear you won't be able to climb onto your horse tomorrow. Hahaha..."

Apparently pleased with his own joke, Lord Mace laughed like a pumpkin at a harvest feast.

Everyone else burst into laughter as well, and the banquet hall filled with merriment.

Samwell acted as though he had not heard the mockery. He loudly thanked the duke for his generosity, then turned back to the maidservant. "Another serving of Golden-Tailed Shrimp, please!"

They've already laughed at me anyway. Damn it, wouldn't I be losing out if I didn't eat?

But at that moment, the steward came over and said with an awkward expression, "I'm terribly sorry, ser, but we have run out of Golden-Tailed Shrimp."

Samwell suspected the man simply could not bear to let him eat any more, but he could only shrug helplessly and let it go.

Lord Mace suddenly laughed again. "Sam, there should still be plenty of venison in the kitchens. Would you like some?"

Who cares about venison?

Samwell was about to politely refuse when Lord Mace's mother, Olenna Redwyne, the Queen of Thorns, suddenly spoke. "I have never cared much for this sort of shellfish. Sam, if you do not mind, you may have my portion."

Samwell looked at the small, silver-haired old lady in surprise, wondering why the Queen of Thorns, rumored to be so sharp-tongued and harsh, was treating him with such kindness today.

He did not consider himself any kind of promising young talent, nor did he possess anything worth plotting for.

Of course, Samwell still put on a flattered expression and smiled as he bowed. "How could I possibly disdain a gift from Lady Olenna?"

"Good, good." Olenna smiled warmly. "A good knight must first have a good appetite. Take it."

Just as the maidservant was about to step forward, Olenna gave her granddaughter Margaery a meaningful look.

Margaery immediately understood. She actually picked up the plate of Golden-Tailed Shrimp before Olenna and walked toward Samwell herself.

She too found it strange that her grandmother was treating Samwell with such courtesy, but the clever Maiden kept her doubts to herself and silently cooperated with her grandmother's attempt to win him over.

Samwell was overwhelmed by the favor and hurriedly rose to thank her.

"You are a knight I personally ordained. There is no need to be so polite." Margaery placed the silver plate before Samwell and smiled gently, every movement graceful and poised.

Tonight, the duke's daughter wore a pure white satin gown. Her figure was exquisitely proportioned, and the close-fitting dress accentuated every curve of her body, weaving them into lines that captivated the eye. Her intricate gold filigree headdress, sapphire necklace, and floating skirt of layered silk chiffon all exuded the luxurious splendor unique to the highest nobility.

A single glance was enough to make one feel the distance between their stations, leaving them unable to help but feel ashamed of themselves.

Yet now, the most beautiful rose of Highgarden was personally carrying a plate of food to a clown like Samwell.

The sight left everyone in the hall staring in stunned disbelief.

The invisible flames blazing from the eyes of the young male guests in particular were nearly enough to roast Samwell alive.

Yet faced with the attentions of such a beautiful young woman, Samwell felt an intense wariness rise within him.

Of course, outwardly, Samwell displayed the nervous panic and desperately concealed delight that a timid youth ought to show before a duke's daughter.

Watching Samwell flounder helplessly beneath her granddaughter's charm, Olenna's lips curled slightly upward. "Sam, where do you intend to carve out your territory? Have you chosen a target yet?"

"Honored Lady Olenna, I... I have not decided yet."

"Since you have not settled on a target, I have a suggestion."

At once, Samwell became alert.

They said that every gift of fate came with its price secretly marked. Clearly, the Queen of Thorns's gift would not be free.

But he had already accepted the Golden-Tailed Shrimp, and he was still on her territory. Naturally, Samwell did not dare refuse. "Please, tell me."

But Olenna shook her head, leaving him in suspense. "We do not discuss serious matters at a banquet. Come see me tomorrow, and we can speak in detail then."

"Yes, my lady."