Persuasion

"But I'm worried Lord Leyton won't agree to revise the contract."

"Mm, that is indeed possible." Margaery also felt that House Hightower would not easily agree to share its profits with others. "How about I ask Mother to speak with Lord Leyton?"

"That wouldn't be appropriate." Samwell quickly advised against it. "If word gets out, people will say House Tyrell is competing with its own vassals for profit."

"All right, then." Margaery had no choice but to abandon the idea. "How confident are you that you can persuade Lord Leyton to sign a new contract?"

"Well..." Samwell put on an expression of pained reluctance. "That depends on how much profit I'm willing to give up to House Hightower. Sigh, Lord Leyton will probably demand a larger share."

Margaery felt a little embarrassed when she heard that. "Thank you, Sam. I'll explain this to Father and ask him to give you a larger share to make up for your losses."

"You truly are a kind young lady!" Samwell barely managed not to laugh out loud. "Actually, compared to a larger share, I would prefer compensation in other areas."

"Other areas?"

"Yes. As you know, most of my people are Wildlings, while there are far too few Reachmen among them. This ethnic imbalance hides great dangers that could erupt at any time. Besides, as a noble of the Reach, I trust Reachmen more. So, I hope the duke will allow me to send people to gather refugees in Highgarden and bring them to Eagle's Beak to become my subjects."

"This..." Margaery hesitated.

She naturally understood the importance of population to a territory. No intelligent lord would allow his people to leave freely, not even landless refugees.

The last time Samwell had secretly recruited dockworkers for his frontier development had already been a breach of convention. House Tyrell had merely chosen not to make an issue of it because the number recruited had not been large.

And now he had set his sights on the refugees again.

Margaery did not know how many refugees there were in Highgarden, but it certainly was not a small number. How could she simply let Samwell lure them away?

Seeing Margaery hesitate, Samwell continued to persuade her.

"Lady Margaery, those landless refugees cannot pay taxes to House Tyrell. Keeping them here only harms the city's appearance. The more of them there are, the more the beautiful Highgarden is stained. So please, allow me to remove this sore from House Tyrell's side!"

"I'll return and discuss it with Father." Margaery still did not agree outright. Seemingly worried that this would disappoint Samwell, she hurriedly added, "Rest assured, even if Father does not allow you to gather refugees, he will compensate you in other ways."

But all I want is people!

Samwell currently had only a few hundred Reachmen under his command. Compared to the more than ten thousand Wildlings, that number was far too small. As he gradually expanded deeper into the Red Mountains, he would surely subdue more Wildlings in the future, while the number of Reachmen would be difficult to replenish.

Though Samwell did not actually discriminate against Wildlings, this imbalance was an objective reality, and it would be all too easy for ethnic problems to erupt in the future.

The best solution was to increase the number of Reachmen in his territory. They did not necessarily have to outnumber the Wildlings, but they needed to make up a sufficiently significant proportion so the Wildlings would not dare act recklessly.

Moreover, only with enough Reachmen could Samwell promote intermarriage between the two peoples and encourage their integration. Otherwise, as things stood now, there were not even enough Reachmen under his command for the Wildling girls to choose from.

With that thought, Samwell spoke again.

"Lady Margaery, I know you are different from ordinary noble ladies. You have a kind heart. When I was in Highgarden, I heard beggars speak of your charity, bakers say you had bought their hot pies, and farmers say you had spoken with them kindly... Though you were born to high station, you have never held yourself above others. So I believe you understand the hardships endured by those refugees who have lost their land.

"I promise you this: once those refugees become my subjects, so long as they are willing to work diligently, they will certainly have food to eat and clothes to wear! May the Seven bear witness to my words!"

At last, Margaery could not help looking into Samwell's eyes.

Samwell immediately met her gaze with the most sincere and confident look he could muster.

After a long while, the beautiful girl finally nodded solemnly.

"Very well. I will do my best to persuade Father to accept your conditions."

Now that was the promise I wanted!

Samwell was overjoyed. If he had not feared being beaten to death, he would have liked nothing more than to embrace the girl before him and kiss her.

Since Margaery had said that, the matter was practically settled.

Duke Mace had never been much of a man of his own mind. He would not break his precious daughter's heart over a few lowly refugees.

"Thank you for your help, Lady Margaery. Your kindness will surely be repaid!"

"Ser Caesar." Margaery's tone suddenly became solemn. "I hope you remember the promise you made today. Perhaps one day, I will personally visit your territory. If I find that their circumstances have not improved..."

"Then you may announce to everyone that Samwell Caesar is a man who breaks his oaths!" Samwell declared solemnly.

"Good!" Margaery's sweet smile returned. "I believe you will not disappoint me, my knight."

As Samwell looked into the girl's clear eyes so close to his own, he suddenly felt guilty—

Was it really right for him to go to such lengths to scheme against a young girl, even exploiting her kindness?

But Samwell quickly comforted himself—he truly could give those refugees a good life.

With brandy and silver mines, those two money trees, Eagle's Beak would surely become a prosperous territory.

So this did not really count as deception.

Though there was no denying that he was using and manipulating her...

But if he wanted to accomplish great things, how could he avoid using a few tricks?

As for Lady Margaery... he could find a way to make it up to her later.

Samwell suddenly recalled that the Rose of Highgarden did not meet a good end in the future. House Tyrell had been determined to make her queen and return to the center of power through her. Under her family's arrangements, she would marry three kings in succession, yet every one of them would die young...

Therefore, Samwell felt he had a responsibility to save Lady Margaery from such misery. And the best way to stop it—

Was to marry her himself!

It was definitely not because he coveted her beauty and background, much less because he wanted the powerful and prosperous Reach. He simply could not bear to see the kind and beautiful Lady Margaery repeatedly marry the wrong men.

Of course, Samwell also clearly understood that with his current strength and status, it was absolutely impossible for him to marry Margaery.

Fortunately, he still had time.

Margaery's first marriage would take place during the War of the Five Kings, which was roughly two and a half years away.

Two and a half years—from a frontier lord who had not even finished building his castle to someone qualified to marry a duke's daughter—was undoubtedly a fantasy.

But Samwell felt he could give it a try.

If he could not even accomplish that, what the hell was he dreaming of sitting on the Iron Throne for?

With that thought, he wrapped his arm around Margaery's waist without a shred of guilt and continued to spin with her across the dance floor.

As the bagpipes drew out a long, low note, the dance came to an end.

Samwell stopped as well, took Margaery's hand, and escorted her to the edge of the floor.

"Thank you, Ser Caesar."

"The honor is mine, Lady Margaery."

Samwell had barely released Margaery's small hand when Duke Renly approached.

He first nodded in greeting to Samwell, then politely invited Margaery to dance the next dance.

Naturally, Margaery did not refuse.

Watching Margaery be led away by Duke Renly, Samwell was about to return to his Golden-Tailed Shrimp when, as he turned around, he heard Duke Renly say to Margaery:

"Lady Margaery, your beauty has made even tonight's starlight fade. I happen to have brought an artist with me. Would you permit him to paint your portrait?"

Samwell suddenly stopped in his tracks.

If any other man had said such words to Margaery, it could have been seen as a subtle declaration of love.

But Duke Renly... that fellow probably wanted to paint Margaery's brother Loras even more.

As Samwell watched the two walk together into the dance floor, he suddenly recalled an inconspicuous detail from the original story—

In the near future, Duke Renly would show a portrait to Eddard Stark, Duke of The North, and the person in that portrait would be Margaery Tyrell!

At that moment, Samwell suddenly understood why Duke Renly had come to the Hightower, and why Margaery had happened to return with her mother to visit her maternal grandfather.

He smelled the scent of a conspiracy.