The Reach, Highgarden.
Olenna Redwyne sat in a pavilion in the castle gardens, a chessboard laid out before her. Today, she wore a dark green gown that looked exceptionally sumptuous, and her hair was wrapped in a scarf embroidered with roses.
Though she looked elderly now, her eyes still gleamed with shrewdness.
Willas Tyrell, newly appointed Lord of Highgarden by Viserys, sat opposite her. His impaired leg meant he rarely left Highgarden, and he had a far clearer head than the other men of House Tyrell.
"Grandmother," Willas said gently, looking at the pieces on the board. "Word has arrived from Storm's End. Renly's situation seems even more difficult than we anticipated. Oberyn has already taken Blackhaven, and the armies of the Earl of Tarth and the Earl of Estermont in the Stormlands have suffered heavy losses."
"Difficult? My dear boy, Renly's situation is not difficult. It is hopeless." Lady Olenna spoke with a trace of mockery, smiling as she continued, "Renly Baratheon is nothing more than a child spoiled by flowers and applause since he was little. Does he think becoming king means he can command the Seven Kingdoms? He does not even have that stubborn resilience of Stannis's."
She paused, then placed a piece in an unassuming corner of the board and continued, "Still, this is good for us. The sooner Baratheon power collapses, the sooner our Reach can settle down."
"Then, regarding Storm's End..." Willas pressed. "Should we send troops to assist His Majesty Viserys? After all, Father and my younger brother are still with Renly."
His fingers rubbed unconsciously along the edge of the board, his gaze thoughtful and cautious as he considered the current situation in Westeros. Though Highgarden had openly declared its support for the Targaryens, unifying the Reach internally would still take time.