Lady Olenna slowly withdrew her gaze, her withered fingers unconsciously rubbing the rose embroidered on her cuff. After more than half a lifetime, the old rose had long since learned to hide all her emotions beneath her deep wrinkles.
Besides, at her age, she had seen more than enough changes of ruler on the Iron Throne, from the Mad King Aerys to the Usurper Robert Baratheon, then to that short-lived Little King of the War of the Five Kings, Joffrey Baratheon.
The rulers of the Iron Throne kept changing, but House Tyrell had always preserved its strength in the Reach by keeping a clear head and never staking everything on a single side.
That was why, after their defeat, they had quickly cut their losses, simply allowing old Lord Mace to take his men to the Wall while they continued courting the new king, Viserys, through Margaery and House Tyrell's supplies.
She turned to glance at Margaery beside her, whose expression had already grown somewhat unsettled. Her behavior now was entirely at odds with what she had said before.
Olenna truly no longer knew whether the Targaryens or the Tyrells mattered more to Margaery, nor how much of what she had said earlier could be believed.
She gently raised a hand and squeezed her granddaughter's wrist, speaking in a low voice only the two of them could hear. "We should do what needs to be done. Highgarden has already made the proper preparations to receive our guest. You needn't think yourself beneath Viserys before he even arrives."
Margaery came back to her senses as well. She discreetly slipped free of Olenna's grip, though her gaze remained on the still-chaotic crowd below. Many of the city's bolder residents, along with those who had seen dragons elsewhere before, had already crowded around