Margaery's heart skipped a beat.
Canned food?
Of course she remembered that agreement, the one that could change all of Westeros!
She had thought that, after last night's humiliating "negotiations," this man would tear up their previous agreement entirely.
After all, she had already become Lynn's plaything.
She had never expected Lynn to remember their agreement.
And after conquering her completely in that fashion, he had casually laid before her a gift that would drive any king mad with desire.
The carrot and the stick.
No, this was no longer a carrot.
It was a mountain of gold.
A mountain of gold that neither she nor all of House Tyrell could refuse.
Margaery followed behind Lynn, her heart filled with unease, while Miranda trailed them like a faithful shadow, neither too close nor too far away.
They passed through the castle and reached an area behind it enclosed by tall wooden walls.
Unlike the rest of the castle, this place brimmed with a strange sort of vitality.
Thousands of Wildlings worked here, divided into groups, each with its own duties.
Some were mixing a special kind of clay, some were firing something, and others were processing fruit that gave off a cloyingly sweet aroma.
The whole scene looked primitive and rough, yet there was an unmistakable order to it.
"This is my Workshop."
Lynn gestured at the bustling grounds before them.
Margaery's gaze settled on the center of the grounds.
More than a dozen enormous pits had been dug there, their openings covered with heavy wooden planks that left only narrow gaps.
A faint, peculiar smell drifted through those gaps, mingling the sourness of fermentation with the scent of earth.
"My lord, is this..."
Margaery spoke hesitantly.
She had imagined that a workshop capable of producing such miraculous canned food