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In the King's study, Stannis sat behind his desk, flanked by Davos and Grand Maester Pycelle.
To his right, Olenna sat in a chair, with Mace and Margaery standing behind her. Directly opposite Stannis's left hand sat Jon.
The two sides ca to an agreent on the details of the wedding. Once it was confird that the Tyrells agreed to marry Margaery to Jon and would provide support for the future campaign against the Westerlands, Stannis lost interest in the other details.
He simply had too much to do. Lately, he had been working deep into the night on official business—a complete opposite to Robert.
"Old National Teacher" Pycelle often had to pull overti with him. Jon felt that at this rate, Pycelle probably wouldn't survive the winter.
Seeing that the main direction was set, Stannis prepared to leave.
"Since that is settled, Lady Olenna, I will leave the room to you. Ser Davos, you remain as a witness."
"As you command, Your Grace."
"Farewell, Your Grace."
Everyone bowed to Stannis until he left the room.
"Duke Tyrell, Lady Olenna, Lady Alerie, Duke Jon, I believe you may begin," Davos said politely.
Mace shot a quick glance at his mother, Olenna. Before coming here, the mother and son had agreed to play "good cop, bad cop" to secure as many promises and guarantees for Margaery as possible.
So, ever since entering the room, Mace had been wearing a long face. Now that Stannis was gone, he wasn't about to give Jon a friendly look.
"Lord Jon, you really are sothing. I don't think there's any precedent in the Seven Kingdoms for soone insulting their father-in-law before the wedding. You must be the first." Mace looked Jon up and down, curling his lip.
Standing beside him, Margaery listened to her father's resentful tone and couldn't help but want to laugh.
Olenna watched silently, curious to see how Jon would respond.
Jon looked at Mace with a face full of sincerity, his expression so mushy it gave him goosebumps.
"Lord Duke, that day I used your love for your children to provoke you, making you attack the city in anger. When you ordered the siege, I did feel a sense of... excitent that my trick had worked, and relief that I might survive. But at the sa ti, I was incredibly envious of Margaery and her brothers. If only I had a father who would treat like that. You know, as a bastard, I never saw my mother from the day I was born. I've only seen her vaguely in my dreams. I imagine she must have been a gentle and elegant woman, just like Lady Alerie. Though I never imagined my mother would have silver hair," Jon joked, causing Alerie to smile shyly.
She quite enjoyed the subtle complint.
Then Jon looked at Mace and continued, "My father—I always called him Lord Stark. When I ca of age, even though joining the Night's Watch was my own request, the fact that he agreed without hesitation still made feel a bit aggrieved. It felt like he was just tossing away to the Wall... Although I will need Highgarden's manpower and resources to take the Westerlands in the future, what I want most is your love. Even if it's just a little bit, I really want it."
Mace and his mother had planned to use a mix of coaxing and intimidation to ensure Jon treated Margaery well, but they hadn't expected him to play the pity card so effectively.
After all, no matter how pitiful you were, could you be more pitiful than an orphan? Sure enough, Jon's tactics had a significant effect.
"You—" Hearing Jon say this, Mace flushed red. "You... why are you saying all this? You brat, don't think this will make go soft!"
Despite his words, Mace had turned his head away, and Alerie was already clutching her handkerchief, looking heartbroken.
Margaery and Davos both smiled, surprised that Jon had defused Mace's hostility so easily.
Seeing her son defeated in just one round, Olenna shook her head. Now it was her turn.
"Good child," Olenna said to Jon. "I've heard all about you. Lord Eddard Stark raised you well. People across the Seven Kingdoms call you a young hero, but I know that getting to this day, getting to this step, must have been very tiring." Olenna spoke with concern, sounding like a true elder to Jon.
"Not tired, my lady. For Lord Eddard's vengeance, for the King," Jon replied.
"You must be tired, yet I have no choice but to add a bit more pressure on you," Olenna said sowhat helplessly. "I watched Margaery grow up; she is my only granddaughter. I know many people now use the matters of Renly and Joffrey to attack her, but it is not her fault. Just as being a bastard is not your fault. I beg you, please do not bla her for such things."
Olenna was over sixty, and Jon wasn't even sixteen yet.
For an elder to beg a young man with such an attitude was undoubtedly another form of attack.
Seeing her grandmother act this way, Margaery shed tears at just the right mont. At this point, any promise Jon made would seem a bit weak.
"Lady Olenna, I believe this must be the will of the gods. Margaery and I... we have both beco 'unlucky' people in the eyes of the world because of fate. But fate is arranged by the gods. They make two incomplete people whole. We are destined to be together." Jon spoke sincerely to Olenna with the respect due to an elder.
As he spoke, he specifically looked at Davos. Davos nodded supportively and chid in, "Yes, my lady. Just as soone like , born in Flea Bottom, can serve His Grace, it is all the arrangent of the gods."
Hearing Jon say this, Olenna could only nod. She found Jon becoming more and more interesting.
Then, Jon turned to Margaery and said, "Margaery, I want to marry you right now and give you the title of Lady Stark. But without a country, there is no ho. Without King Stannis, there would be no today. I must first crush the rebellion for the King, and then I will co to marry you. I leave tomorrow!"
Compared to the hints and subtleties of their last eting, Jon was now blunt and honest.
Margaery had never lacked suitors, but most were cautious. Now, facing such a frank confession, she still felt her heart race.
Mace wanted to say sothing, but he opened his mouth and then swallowed his words.
Davos also liked Jon's words very much—without a country, there is no ho; without Stannis, there is no today.
Wasn't that a reflection of himself as well?
"Alright, Jon. I will wait for your triumphant return." Margaery expressed the reserve appropriate for a lady.
Finally, the two exchanged tokens of affection.
Jon gave Margaery his glove, and Margaery gave Jon a handkerchief she had embroidered herself.
With the parents' approval secured, the matter was settled. But Jon still had five passes to cross and six generals to slay before he could get his wife.
The first hurdle was getting Robb to put down his crown.
Of course, what he wanted wasn't just a wife. Before the real crisis arrived, he needed to accumulate enough capital to withstand the coming disaster!
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