The feast continued deep into the evening.
As the wine flowed more freely, nobles began drifting from their seats to mingle.
The ladies gathered in small groups, exchanging gossip and laughter, while the men discussed politics, tournaments, and military affairs over overflowing cups.
The atmosphere grew livelier by the minute.
At their table in the corner, only Leonette seemed to have noticed the dramatic swings in William’s mood.
Sam and his sisters remained completely unaware that William’s thoughts had been racing like a runaway horse all evening.
The conversation continued merrily.
Then, by chance, William’s gaze drifted toward the high table again.
Margaery had apparently just heard something amusing.
She covered her mouth with one hand as she laughed.
Her eyes curved into crescents.
The sight was unexpectedly charming.
And once again, William found his thoughts returning to her.
The magical aura around Margaery feels pure and natural.
Untouched.
Untrained.
If she’s truly a naturally gifted mage, could I bring her onto my side?
Right now my magical knowledge is far too limited.
Two people studying together would certainly be better than one person stumbling around in the dark.
Could she be the key to breaking through my bottleneck?
Over the past four years, William had studied well over a hundred spells.
Only four had ever worked.
Enhancement.
Healing.
Recovery.
Absorption.
Enhancement dramatically improved his physical abilities, pushing his strength, speed, and reflexes close to the limits of human capability.
Healing allowed him to recover from injuries with astonishing speed, enabling him to train and fight without fear.
Recovery converted mental energy into physical stamina, making exhaustion feel almost irrelevant.
Absorption required much longer preparation than the others, but as a defensive spell it was invaluable.
A properly prepared Absorption spell could mean the difference between life and death.
Especially against unexpected attacks.
Unfortunately, every spell he possessed worked only on himself.
Otherwise, Healing alone could have made him a fortune.
He wouldn’t have needed to travel around the Reach competing in tournaments for prize money.
Without magic, William believed he could still have become a capable knight.
With magic, however, he had become something else entirely.
One of the finest young warriors in Westeros.
A man capable of facing anyone in single combat.
Even Ser Gregor Clegane.
Yet one question had always bothered him.
Why could he only use these few spells?
And why did they all seem related?
Every one of them focused on strengthening, restoring, or protecting the body.
Surely there should have been more.
Different kinds of magic.
Different paths.
Different possibilities.
Years ago, he had carefully questioned his magical advisor, the Qartheen warlock Glop.
The answer had been less than helpful.
For the warlocks of Qarth, spells either worked or they didn’t.
There was no middle ground.
Nobody had ever encountered William’s situation before.
Fortunately, William had never abandoned the spells that failed.
Even if he couldn’t cast them, he still memorized them perfectly.
And now, recalling the moment his eyes met Margaery’s, he suddenly remembered something strange.
At the time, several unusable spells had flashed through his mind for no apparent reason.
Only now did he realize what they had in common.
Every single one involved plants.
Growth.
Roots.
Vines.
Flowers.
William’s eyes widened.
Of course.
The Tyrells claim descent from Garth Greenhand.
The legends say Garth could command plants and make the land bloom.
Maybe different people are naturally suited for different forms of magic.
The idea was impossible to ignore.
If Margaery truly possessed magical potential, helping her learn might reveal secrets he could never uncover alone.
Unfortunately, another problem immediately appeared.
How exactly was he supposed to teach her?
Margaery’s magical presence felt weak.
Much weaker than his own.
Simply handing her books probably wouldn’t work.
He would likely need to guide her personally.
Very personally.
Step by step.
Hand in hand, quite literally.
And that was where reality intervened.
Margaery Tyrell was the treasured daughter of Lord Mace Tyrell.
The jewel of House Tyrell.
A key piece in the family’s future ambitions.
There was no world in which her family would allow some young nobleman to spend endless hours alone with her.
The Tyrells valued their reputation far too highly.
As William stared at Margaery yet again, Garlan finally sighed.
“William.” There was warning in his voice.
“We’re friends.” William turned toward him.
“If you’re thinking about marrying Margaery properly, then I’d be delighted.” Garlan paused.
“Otherwise…” His smile sharpened.
“I meant what I said.” Marry Margaery?
William almost rolled his eyes.
That would certainly solve a lot of problems.
It’s also about as realistic as flying to the moon.
Aloud he said, “Marry her?
Lord Mace would order you to kill me long before we reached a wedding.” Garlan laughed.
“Margaery is the most beautiful rose in Highgarden.” He patted William’s shoulder.
“Naturally, she can’t be picked that easily.” Then he returned to chatting with Leonette.
William stared at him helplessly.
A new thought suddenly crossed his mind.
Wait…
What if she tells Lord Mace that I can use magic?
That possibility was far more concerning.
At present, William believed nobody could conclusively prove he possessed magical abilities.
Some people might suspect.
That was different.
Glop and Moken probably had their suspicions.
Years of discussing magical theory inevitably revealed small clues.
Archmaester Marwyn might suspect something as well.
Back when William first began studying magic, he had frequently consulted the mysterious archmaester under the guise of academic curiosity.
After all, caution was necessary.
Yet every question required revealing information in return.
And sometimes he worried he had revealed too much.
Then there was Lady Malora Hightower.
The Mad Maid.
The very thought made William’s head ache.
That woman was genuinely insane.
From the first moment they met, she had insisted that he possessed some extraordinary power.
Unfortunately…
She was right.
William couldn’t exactly deny that.
What truly troubled him was her obsession with obtaining samples.
Blood samples.
Hair samples.
Anything she could get her hands on.
And after a certain embarrassing milestone of adolescence, her interest had only intensified.
At one point, William was fairly certain she had attempted to seduce him solely for research purposes.
You lunatic.
I’m still a child!
As the saying went, a man carrying treasure inevitably attracted trouble.
Magic was strange.
On one hand, it often seemed useless.
The Children of the Forest had once wielded incredible powers, shaping coastlines and flooding the Neck itself.
Yet they had still been driven from their lands by men armed with steel and determination.
On the other hand, magic remained one of the rarest and most mysterious forces in the world.
People feared what they didn’t understand.
If Margaery revealed his abilities to Lord Mace, complications would surely follow.
Still…
The worst-case scenario wasn’t that bad.
If things became troublesome, he could simply accelerate his plans.
Perhaps leave Westeros entirely.
Seek out Daenerys Targaryen.
Compared to dragons, a little magic would hardly seem remarkable.
The more he considered it, the more convinced he became.
Regardless of the risks, he needed to speak with Margaery.
At least once.
He needed answers.
Rising from his seat, William adjusted his doublet.
“Everyone, excuse me for a moment.” Immediately, Sam grinned.
“Ah-ha!” He pointed dramatically.
“You want to meet Lady Margaery!” The table erupted into laughter.
At that moment, Garlan happened to stand as well, carrying a platter piled high with roasted chicken, onions, and mushrooms.
As he passed William, he quietly murmured: “Be careful around Lord Randyll.” Then, after a brief pause: “The warlocks.” William blinked.
A moment later, he understood.
The infamous incident involving Glop and Moken had become common gossip throughout the Reach.
Lord Randyll had publicly denounced the Qartheen warlocks as frauds.
William had hired them.
The contradiction practically begged for rumors.
Back when William was unknown, nobody cared.
Now that he had begun winning tournaments and attracting attention, people discussed it everywhere.
The logic of gossip was simple.
Either William was a fool or Randyll Tarly was.
Which one depended entirely on who happened to be telling the story.
As for the truth?
Nobody cared.
That was the problem, there was no elegant solution.
Fortunately, William rarely interacted with Lord Randyll.
Avoiding him in the future seemed perfectly manageable.
Besides, at the moment William’s attention was occupied elsewhere.
At worst, Lord Randyll yells at me.
He’s famous for blunt honesty anyway.
Getting scolded by him isn’t exactly a unique experience.
Picking up his wine cup, William smiled.
“I won’t deny it, Sam.” The boy immediately looked triumphant.
William shrugged.
“But there’s nothing shameful about admiring Lady Margaery.” The young ladies at the table covered their mouths and laughed.
Even Leonette smiled knowingly.
Meanwhile, William straightened his clothes and glanced toward the high table once more.
The opportunity was there and opportunities, once missed, rarely returned.
Tonight, he intended to find out whether the Rose of Highgarden truly carried magic in her blood.
Or whether his imagination had gotten the better of him.
Either way, sitting still would accomplish nothing.
William Whent had never been particularly good at sitting still.