Nor would they rise against the Iron Throne out of their old arrogance, as Willas had originally hoped. At least, they would not dare do so openly. What they might do in secret was another matter. House Hightower, after all, had played plenty of covert tricks even when House Targaryen was at the height of its power.
Now they certainly would not give House Tyrell an excuse to use someone else's blade to purge them. They would obediently open their muster rolls and race to bring their horses and grain wagons beneath the walls of Highgarden, terrified of falling behind the others.
But that obedience was not directed toward Highgarden. It was directed toward the dragons that might appear above their castles at any moment. Every time Highgarden relayed an order from Viserys, it would be adding another entry of resentment to the ledgers of the houses of the Reach with its own hand.
The burning coal Highgarden had caught might not immediately burn through its palm, but it would keep scorching until House Tyrell had been seared into the highest, yet loneliest, castle in all the Reach.
House Tyrell wielded great power, but by then, its only real hope would be to remain under the protection of House Targaryen forever.
Sadly, that dependence carried a price it could not conceal. Viserys would not grant them secure enough protection merely on the strength of Willas's sister or a simple pledge of loyalty from Highgarden.
His sister Margaery was still young, still Highgarden's golden rose, but she would grow old one day. When that day came, this small advantage of Highgarden's would melt away as completely as ice in summer.
As for Highgarden's oath of fealty to the Iron Throne, that was merely a gesture for Viserys to see. Willas believed