The King had been right when he told Robb it would be a better journey along the Roseroad to Highgarden. There were long stretches of grassy fields in all directions, and they passed through numerous orchards with fruit like none Robb had ever seen. Simply put, the lands of the Reach were vast and beautiful. Robb genuinely enjoyed the journey, and set his horse on a casual pace.
Jon had kept true to his word and remained in the Red Keep, but Jory had been obliged to make the journey with his charge. The five Baratheon men that King Robert had promised accompanied them as well, the crowned stag banner flying along, held by the lead rider. Even though their party moved at a relatively slow pace, they still reached Highgarden in less than three days. They had followed the waters of the Mander until they came upon their intended destination. Robb's first thought at seeing the castle of the Tyrells was that it certainly wasn't conventional by any means.
Highgarden was a castle of gleaming white stone sat upon a hill, with all manner of greenery surrounding it. Ivy grew heavily on the walls, and inside the outermost of Highgarden's three walls was a maze of hedges. The thought of ever trying to lead an attacking army inside of the walls was something Robb could barely comprehend. Invaders would be slaughtered from a hail of arrows from the many towers capped in gold while they tried to navigate through the natural hindrance. It may have been beautiful to look at, but Robb had no intention of spending the rest of the day lost in it. Luckily, several guards wearing full steel plate armor and holding shields bearing the golden rose of House Tyrell were standing sentry at the entrance to the outermost wall.
"Who goes there, bearing the sigil of the King?" one of the guards asked, placing a hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword.
"My name is Robb Stark, son of Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. I come on behalf his Grace, King Robert Baratheon with a message for your Lord, Mace Tyrell. If it would not be too much trouble, we would request an escort to the keep."
"Of course my Lord," the guard bowed his head respectfully. The man disappeared for a moment behind the gate before reappearing on horseback. "Please follow me, my Lord." And so began their winding, weaving journey through the hedges. It did not take them long before they made it through the second gate and finally into the castle proper, as the man leading them knew exactly where he was going. As they got deeper and deeper into Highgarden, the extravagance seemed to keep increasing. There were flowers of every imaginable type and color, fountains and sculptures everywhere. Men and women sat of exquisitely carved stone benches, wearing colorful frocks and sipping cups of deep red wine. After being in King's Landing, Robb felt like he had rode into a different world.
The guard who had led them into Highgarden told them to wait in the courtyard outside of the keep, and then he disappeared inside. Those wandering around the castle looked at them in interest, but for the most part continued on with whatever they were doing. After sliding off of his mount, he shook out the stiffness in his legs and continued to admire the splendor of the Tyrells' abode. His attention was quickly drawn away when he saw their guide reappear, but he was not alone. Next to him stood a clearly highborn man, likely ten or more years older then Robb. The man sported closely cropped head of brown hair and beard more tamed than Robb's own. At first glance, the newcomer seemed to be in fine condition, but then Robb noticed the cane in his right hand and the significant limps as he walked. Not wanting to force him to walk further, Robb quickly to close the distance.
"Greetings, Robb Stark. I welcome you to Highgarden," the man offered, sincerely.
"Thank you," Robb responded. "I'm afraid you have me at a loss."
"My apologies. I am Willas Tyrell, son of Mace Tyrell and heir to Highgarden."
"A pleasure to meet you, my Lord."
"Willas is fine," he added. "May I call you Robb?"
"You may."
"Excellent. My guardsman informed me that you were here representing the King with a message for my Father."
"That's right," Robb answered, pulling out the sealed letter.
"Robb, I am sorry to say that my Father is not in the castle at this moment. He and my brothers were on their way to Horn Hill to settle a dispute between Lord Tarly and Lord Beesbury. I don't suppose you could leave the message with me?"
"I apologize, but I'd rather not," Robb explained. "The message is of great significance, and I'd see it directly into your Father's hand."
"Of course, no apology necessary, Robb," Willas assured. "My Father only just left actually. I will send riders to try and intercept him. Hopefully they have not made it too far. I'm sure my brothers can continue on and see to our bannermens' quarrel."
"That would be greatly appreciated Willas," Robb stated.
"Why don't you have your men see your horses to the stables, and I'll have someone lead you to where you can rest and wait for news of my Father's arrival?"
Robb looked back at Jory who nodded. "Go on, my Lord. We'll be fine."
"Lessa," Willas called. Behind him, a young woman wearing a simple dress in Tyrell green appeared, hands folded together in front of her. "Lessa, please escort Lord Stark out to the courtyard in the east gardens and see to it that has proper refreshments." The girl nodded, and Willas turned back to Robb. "I will let you know as soon as I have any word."
"Thank you," Robb responded, and watched as Willas began to limp away.
"If you'll follow me m'lord," Lessa prompted.
They took a casual pace through the keep that enabled Robb to take in all of his surroundings. Unsurprisingly, the inside of the keep was just as picturesque as the outside. There were fine paintings and tapestries that littered the walls, all extremely lively and colorful. Robb barely noticed as they exited the keep through a door and walked into a large garden. At the center stood a great canopy, which provided shade for the carved table and chairs that sat beneath it. Lessa led him over and he took a seat in a plush, cushioned chair. He felt as if his body had sunk into a cloud.
"There is wine on the table m'lord, but I can bring you something else if you would prefer it," Lessa informed him.
"Wine is perfect, thank you Lessa."
"I will have the kitchens prepare you something to eat then." Before Robb had a chance to respond to her, the serving girl had curtseyed and was headed back to the keep. Robb reached for the pitcher of Arbor gold and poured a cup. He drank deeply and savored the quality of the liquid. Leaning his head back against the chair, he sighed in contentment, fully enjoying his beverage and surroundings. The air was clean, with sweetness to it from the ample flowers. He was so lost in the contentment of his surroundings that he failed to notice that he was no longer alone.
"Are you enjoying the gardens?"
Robb had just brought his wine cup to his lips to drink, but at the sudden sound of the voice, he flinched and spilled some of the golden liquid down his front. He grabbed a cloth off the table and moved hastily to wipe off his doublet. A soft burst of laughter averted his attention back to the new presence. Robb looked to his left, towards the pleasant sound, and as he did felt like all of the air disappeared from his lungs. The flowers in Highgarden were clearly not the only beautiful things. The young woman standing before him looked to be of a similar age, with long, golden-brown hair that was slightly curled. She wore a sleeveless dress of green, trimmed in golden lace, and it certainly revealed more flawless tanned skin than what he was used to seeing in the North. Her brown eyes were bright, and her lips were quirked to the side in a playful smirk.
Robb, who had been lost briefly in his admiration for this girl, realized that he was neglecting his manners, and rose from his chair. His Mother would have had stern words for him if she knew Robb had not stood up in the presence of a lady. However, once he had, he felt like a complete fool, in the middle of an extravagant garden, lost for words. Finally, he reminded himself that he was not a child and was the heir to one of the most powerful families in the Seven Kingdoms.
"Beautiful," Robb stated.
"Excuse me?" the girl asked in confusion.
"The flowers. Their beautiful."
"Oh," she frowned, exaggeratedly. "I thought you had meant that I was beautiful."
"Oh, you are," Robb responded quickly, walking closer to her. "It's just that I don't even know your name, my lady. It would be horribly forward of me say such a thing."
"Well, I shall have to enlighten you then. My name is Margaery Tyrell."
"Lord Tyrell's daughter?"
"I am," she nodded. "And I don't think I have ever seen you lounging in the gardens of the castle before. You would not happen to have something to do with the whispers I only just heard about messengers arriving from the King?"
"I would my lady," Robb confirmed. "I come bearing a message for your Father on behalf of his Grace."
"You do not look much like a messenger, if I may say so."
"I think I should take that as a compliment, but I am not certain," Robb laughed. "And you're correct, I am not normally a messenger, but as my Father advised me, it is not easy to say no when a King asks you to do something."
"And your Father is..."
"Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell," Robb finished for her. "I am his eldest son and heir, Robb Stark."
"You are a long way from home, Robb Stark."
He nodded. "Aye, I am, my lady. But if I have to be away from Winterfell, I cannot think of a better place to be than where I am now."
"Is that due to the scenery or the company?"
"The scenery is nice, but the company is infinitely better," Robb smiled.
"Would you mind if I joined you then, Robb? It's not often we get Northerners this far south, and you should not have to sit out here alone. I could not allow my family to be associated with such poor hospitality."
"I would be honored if you joined me my lady." Robb led them back to the courtyard table and pulled a chair out for her. It was as he stood behind her that he noticed her dress was just as short on fabric in the back, revealing even more of her flawless skin. Robb had to restrain himself from accidentally letting his fingers brush across it. Somehow his resolve held strong and he managed to seat himself next to her without acting inappropriately.
"Wine?" Robb asked, reaching for pitcher.
"Yes, please." Robb poured the golden liquid into another cup and passed it over to Margaery. "So Robb, if I may be so bold, what business does the King have with my Father?"
"As I told your Brother when he welcomed me, my lady, I would not feel right giving the message to anyone but your Father."
"Yes, but is my Brother as charming as I am?" she asked, fluttering her eyelashes and giving him her most radiant, overstated smile.
"I found your Brother to be quite charming, my lady, however, not nearly as charming as you."
"Oh good," she exclaimed, scooting herself to edge of her chair, as if expecting Robb to start divulging secrets. "I love my Father, and I don't mean to speak badly of him, but I'm fearful his ambitious nature tends to blind him. I would hate to see him be used."
"I'm afraid that's the nature of the Kingdom we live in, my lady, as much we may wish it were not so." Robb commented, looking down and swirling the wine in his cup. Being used was the exact reason he now found himself to be a resident of King's Landing.
"I know," she sighed.
He knew he was acting like a besotted fool, but he could see no harm in telling her the news. It would be out by the end of the day. "The King means to appoint your Father to his Small Council as Master of Ships in place of Lord Stannis who has seemingly abandoned the position."
"My Father? Master of Ships? I'm not certain my Father could tell a fishing boat from a warship," Margeary exclaimed.
"As you said, my lady, there are often other agendas behind certain actions."
"Ones that rely on Tyrell gold?" Margeary questioned, although it was clearly rhetorical.
"For my own safety Lady Margeary, it's probably best I not answer that."
"Of course," she said, understandingly. "I would not wish to see you in any trouble over the courtesy you've done me. In fact, since you have been so kind, will you allow me to show you something? I believe it would be of great interest to you."
"I don't see how I could refuse such an offer," Robb answered. Taking a walk with Margaery Tyrell seemed like a much better use of his time while he waited for her Father, than sitting by himself in a garden.
Margaery stood from her chair and looked at Robb expectantly. He did not keep her waiting long. Showing that she was certainty not shy, she reached out and threaded her arm through Robb's and began leading him. He barely noticed their surroundings as they walked, his attention equally divided by enjoying their close proximity and also making sure he did not make a fool of himself by treading on Margaery's dress. They wound their way through passages and corridors until finally they arrived in the middle of a small wooded area, which lacked the colorful growth prevalent through the rest of Highgarden.
"Since your family are descendants of the First Men, I thought that you would be interested in seeing those," Margaery stated, directing Robb's attention to the right. He instantly knew that this place was Highgarden's godswood, as standing before him were three great weirwoods. They were so close together that their branches had met, giving the impression that there was just one large weirwood. Robb reluctantly let go of Margaery's arm and walked closer to the trees. He reached out and ran his hand slowly over the white bark.
"Some people have a distaste for them, but I think their beautiful in their own way, even if I don't pray to the Northern gods," Margaery commented.
"They truly are," Robb responded, still holding his hand against the wood. Just touching by touching it, he would swear he could hear the sounds of Wintefell in his ears. He got lost it them, hoping that one of the sounds would be Bran's voice, proof that his Brother still lived. The fact that Bran could wake and find Robb not there, as if he did not care, was painful to him. He only hoped Bran would understand that it was not truly Robb's choice.
"Are you alright?" Margaery questioned from behind him.
"Yes," he answered, finally removing his hand from the tree. "Sorry, I got lost there for a moment."
"Does something trouble you?"
"My Brother Bran was push-, I mean my Brother was climbing a tower in Winterfell and he slipped and fell," Robb quickly corrected himself. "He had not woken when it came time for me to leave for King's Landing, and I still have no word on his condition. I worry for him."
"I am sorry to hear that. I hope you receive good news soon. You have more siblings, yes?"
"I do my lady, two younger sisters, Sansa and Arya, and two younger brothers, Bran and Rickon. I also have a half-brother named Jon. He traveled with me to King's Landing, but was too worn to make the journey here. And you, my lady? I met Willas, but he said others were travelling with your Father."
"Two others," Margaery confirmed. "Garlan and Loras. Both are excellent swordsman. Willas was just as good before he was injured at tourney. Now instead of swords, he spends all day with his books. He'll make an excellent Lord of Highgarden one day. I think he is Grandmother's favorite as well."
"The King warned me of your Grandmother," Robb confessed. "He seemed quite intimidated by her."
Margaery laughed heartily. "My Grandmother is one of a kind. She is not like other ladies, who believe it is their duty to remain meek and silent. She is not afraid to speak her mind to anyone. I've seen her bring powerful men to tears. She has thoroughly earned her title Queen of Thorns."
"I have to say, if everything you say is true, than I am quite intimidated as well," Robb stated.
"Don't fear," Margaery urged, "I think my Grandmother will be very kind to you. I've always heard her speak highly of your family."
"Well that is a relief."
"You will see her tonight, I'm sure. There is sure to be a large feast once my Father hears the news."
"And what news is that?" Robb looked back towards the entrance that had brought them into the godswood. There stood Willas, looking at them expectantly. "I should have guessed when you were not in the gardens, that my Sister had managed to spirit you away somewhere."
"Lady Margaery offered to show me your impressive godswood. It is hard to say no to someone as lovely as your Sister," Robb commented. He noticed as Margaery beamed at his compliment
"Something that my Sister is well aware of, and not the least bit hesitant to take advantage of," Willas joked. "I think she has the castle wrapped around her finger."
"Don't be mean, Willas," Margaery chided.
"My apologies," Willas stated, though without any conviction. "Now Sister, I am going to have to steal Lord Stark away from you. Father should be back within the hour."
"If you must," Margaery sighed.
Robb stepped forward and took her hand, placing a kiss on the back of it. "Thank you for keeping me company, my lady. I hope I will see you again before I leave."
"I am sure of it."