Highgarden.
The richest land in Westeros was basking in the golden sunshine of midsummer.
The wind carried neither the North's chill nor the stench of King's Landing, only the fragrance of roses and vines.
Bees buzzed among carefully pruned flowers, and fountains scattered cool mist through the courtyards.
Everything seemed peaceful, prosperous, and brimming with life.
Lord Mace Tyrell, the head of House Tyrell, reclined contentedly on a velvet-cushioned lounge chair, savoring a purple grape freshly plucked from the vine.
A smug smile spread across his plump face, as though all the peace and prosperity of the Seven Kingdoms sprang from Highgarden's generosity.
A maester hurried through the garden, interrupting his leisure.
"My lord."
The maester presented a roll of parchment sealed with wax.
"A raven from King's Landing."
Lord Mace leisurely sat upright, took the letter, and clumsily broke the wax seal with his thick fingers.
When he read its contents, his small eyes lit up at once, and his breathing quickened.
"Quick! Fetch the Old Lady, Margaery, and Loras!"
A short while later, the leading members of House Tyrell sat around a white marble round table in Highgarden's Rose Garden.
The table was laden with delicate pastries and chilled fruit wine, but no one felt inclined to enjoy them.
Mace Tyrell spread the letter across the table, excitement practically spilling from his plump cheeks.
"A letter in Tywin Lannister's own hand!"
He announced it in a voice that rose oddly with excitement.
"He has extended an olive branch to House Tyrell!"
"He says King Joffrey remains unwed and wishes to marry the rose of Highgarden."
Lord Mace turned toward his stunningly beautiful daughter, Margaery.
"My daughter, you will become Queen of the Seven Kingdoms!"
Then he looked at his handsome son, Loras, the young man known as the