Viserys drew Daenerys a little closer into his arms, somewhat embarrassed, and lowered his voice so only the two of them could hear. "Nothing. I was just thinking about those southern nobles with their own hidden agendas. Once I meet them, I'll be able to tell how much truth there is in what they say."
He was not really lying to Daenerys. After all, although Countess Otho Merryweather had originally been from Myr, she had now joined the nobility of the Reach, whatever the people of Westeros thought of her or how much they looked down on her origins.
After resting briefly for a night, Viserys took Daenerys onward along the Mander River. They did not stop to rest again before reaching Highgarden.
But since they were riding on King Ghidorah's back, Daenerys still had the chance to enjoy the scenery of the Reach on either side in comfort.
The dragon flew southwest. Below them, the river gleamed gray-white in the afternoon sunlight, while the fields along its banks gradually shifted from deep green to pale yellow, then to vast, unbroken expanses of brilliant gold.
At first, those golden fields appeared only in separate patches, divided by stretches of woodland or channels branching off the Mander River.
But the closer they flew to Highgarden, the broader those golden expanses became, until they filled almost all of Daenerys's view.
At the sight, Daenerys could not help leaning halfway out from behind Viserys to look down. The wind swept her hair back, but she paid it no mind. Her eyes remained fixed on the golden fields below, whose farthest edges lay beyond sight.
"Brother, are all those flowers down there House Tyrell's roses?" Daenerys could not help asking.
"Yes, they're all roses," Viserys said, guiding King Ghidorah a little lower. After all,