Lady Alerie Hightower was on the upper level of the Rose Wheelhouse, while only Margaery Tyrell and her grandmother, Lady Olenna, occupied the lower level.
"The great wheelhouse was ostentatious enough, yet your foolish mother insisted we gild the roses. A perfect match for your father, indeed. Gilding certainly looks pretty, but aren't we going there to show off?" Lady Olenna complained.
"My mother only wanted glory for House Tyrell," Margaery said with a smile. Dressed in green velvet, she was very charming.
"Glory comes not only from gold, but also from swords and flames," Olenna said worriedly.
"Are you afraid of winter and other people's envy?" Margaery asked, her large eyes bright and beautiful.
"Roses cannot survive too harsh a winter, child." Olenna looked at the clever granddaughter she had raised since childhood.
"If Storm and his ministers are right in their predictions, a ten-year Long Winter will mean hunger and war unlike anything before. Our Reach may be wealthy, but we cannot feed so many hungry mouths. The Riverlands have already been ravaged, and the northern barbarians have fallen into chaos. If those starving wretches turn their eyes toward Highgarden and the Reach, what do you think will happen?"
"War. The lords will join forces to plunder us and demand we give them grain," Margaery said gravely.
"Exactly. The Reach may be wealthy, but its open lands offer no natural defenses. In the past, much of our fighting against the Ironborn, the Storm King, and the Dornish was over grain. The Ironborn and Dornish are paupers, and the Stormlands are hardly better off. There is more forest than farmland there." Olenna sank into recollection. "Grain and gold may be precious, but only military strength can protect them."
"In war, I see no one who can currently match Storm.