The rain gradually weakened…
Until, at last, it stopped altogether.
“Everything the Husk Wraith left behind should be burned.”
Gawen’s tone was calm.
“For good measure.”
“R-Right…
yes!”
Lord Graceford finally shook himself free from his shock.
As the lord of the castle, he was far from indecisive.
He immediately summoned several guards.
“Burn it.”
“The creature’s quarters.”
“Reduce them to ashes.”
“And everything it ever used…”
“Leave nothing behind.”
After issuing his orders, he turned back toward Gawen.
“Young Lord Rowan…”
“You have saved us today.”
“Holyhall will never forget this debt.”
“There are still matters I must attend to.”
“If you don’t mind…”
“I hope you’ll remain here for another day or two.”
“Alys will see that you’re well looked after.”
Gawen understood the true meaning behind the invitation.
The lord still feared that other malevolent creatures might be hiding somewhere within the castle.
More importantly…
He wanted reassurance that his daughter would truly recover.
Gawen had no reason to refuse.
Within only a few years, Westeros would descend into chaos.
An ally like Holyhall would be valuable.
As for whatever might—or might not—develop between himself and Alys…
That wasn’t something worth worrying about now.
“My lord.”
“I would be honored to accept your hospitality.”
“Then it’s settled.”
Instead of returning to his room, Gawen remained seated in the castle courtyard.
The rain had washed the air clean, leaving behind only the scent of damp earth and fresh grass.
“My lord…”
A soft voice called from behind him.
“So this is where you are.”
It was Alys Graceford.
The girl’s complexion was still pale.
Yet the oppressive chill that had once surrounded her had faded considerably.
“You can simply call me Gawen.”
He inclined his head with a faint smile.
“Gawen…”
The young lady stepped closer.
She carried a small cup of wine in both hands.
“My father asked me…”
“…well…”
“…to keep you company for a while.”
Gawen smiled to himself.
He understood exactly what Lord Graceford was trying to do.
Lord Graceford was clearly hoping to use this opportunity to bring the two houses closer together.
If the two children developed feelings for one another, a marriage alliance would naturally follow.
“Please, have a seat, Lady Graceford.”
“Alys,” she corrected with a gentle smile as she sat down on the stone bench beside him.
“Just call me Alys.”
Gawen had already realized that she wasn’t a pampered noble girl.
Even after witnessing the Husk Wraith with her own eyes, she had regained her composure remarkably quickly.
Her resolve was far stronger than that of most young noblewomen.
For a while, the two sat in comfortable silence.
“You’re going to the Citadel?” Alys finally asked.
“I am.”
“I’ve heard its library is enormous,” she said.
Gawen nodded.
“So I’ve heard.
They also say the astronomy courses are exceptional.
There’s much to learn about the stars.”
“You like astronomy?”
“I wouldn’t say I like it,” Gawen replied with a faint smile.
“I simply think it’s…
useful.”
“Useful?”
She tilted her head, puzzled.
“The stars reveal the changing seasons, weather patterns, and even help sailors navigate the seas,” he explained.
“The Reach borders the sea.
If one day we possess our own ports and fleets, we could ship grain directly to King’s Landing, Lannisport, or even sail across the Narrow Sea to Braavos.”
Alys blinked in surprise.
“You think far ahead.”
“You have to.”
Their conversation continued long into the evening.
Gawen soon discovered that Alys was an intelligent young woman.
She had her own opinions on politics and trade, unlike many noble ladies whose interests rarely extended beyond dresses and jewelry.
While they spoke, Gawen quietly activated Life Manipulation, subtly cleansing the lingering traces of the Husk Wraith’s corruption from within her body.
Color gradually returned to her cheeks.
[Residual Husk Wraith corruption removed.]
[Life Manipulation Proficiency +2]
With the corruption gone, only ordinary treatment remained.
A few months of nourishing medicine to replenish her vitality would be enough for a full recovery.
The following morning, Gawen even prepared medicinal decoctions for Lord Graceford’s family.
The prescriptions themselves were nothing extraordinary—simple tonics to restore blood and energy.
But under the influence of his druidic abilities, their effectiveness increased dramatically.
When it came time to leave, Lord Graceford once again enthusiastically encouraged his daughter to spend time with the young heir of House Rowan.
The two clearly enjoyed each other’s company and never lacked topics to discuss.
Even so…
Gawen offered no promises.
He had already decided to leave the choice of his future bride to his father.
With courteous diplomacy, he declined Lord Graceford’s unspoken proposal.
Their journey resumed.
The road remained peaceful all the way to the banks of the Mander.
Here lay the heart of the Reach.
And standing proudly upon its fertile lands…
Was Highgarden.
Following the Rose Road, the party soon arrived before the magnificent castle.
Three concentric rings of gleaming white stone walls surrounded the fortress, each one lower than the last.
Between the outer curtain wall and the middle defenses sprawled the famous Thorn Maze.
Its towers came in every imaginable shape.
Some were ancient and angular, bearing the weight of centuries.
Others were elegant masterpieces of architecture.
Gawen immediately fell in love with the castle.
Without hesitation, he decided to remain for several days.
His reception was exceptionally warm.
That came as no surprise.
Lord Luthor Tyrell was well known for his kind and affable nature.
The aging lord had grown somewhat stout.
His once-dark hair had turned gray, and wrinkles lined his cheerful face.
“Oh!”
Seated upon the great seat of the audience hall, Luthor beamed broadly.
“You’ve grown so much!”
Beside him sat his wife, Lady Olenna.
“How is Lord Mathis Rowan?”
“My father is in excellent health.”
Gawen bowed respectfully.
“Thank you for your concern.”
“And my niece, Bethany?”
Lady Olenna asked gently.
She appeared every bit the harmless elderly grandmother, her voice soft and warm.
But anyone who truly knew her…
Would never mistake that appearance for weakness.
Gawen noticed the sharp intelligence hidden within her eyes almost immediately.
“My mother is expecting another child,” he replied with a smile. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
“I believe it will be another daughter.”
Luthor chuckled.
“So Mathis is about to have three daughters?”
“Well now…”
“That certainly makes things interesting.”
“It certainly does, my dear husband.”
Lady Olenna smiled knowingly before turning back to Gawen.
“Gawen, allow me to introduce our eldest son.”
“Mace.”
A tall young man stepped forward.
He already towered over Gawen despite the age difference.
Broad-shouldered and powerfully built, he wore House Tyrell’s green-and-gold colors with obvious pride.
Medium-length chestnut curls rested upon his shoulders.
“A pleasure to meet you.”
Gawen greeted him politely with another nod.
“The pleasure’s mine!”
Mace’s booming voice echoed throughout the hall.
He appeared to be a little over twenty years old.
“Show our guest to his chambers,” Lady Olenna instructed.
“His escort will also be properly accommodated.”
“There’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“Thank you, Lady Olenna.”
“Lord Mace.”
Gawen bowed once more, intentionally addressing Lady Olenna before Mace, subtly acknowledging the true influence she held within House Tyrell.
“Come on!”
Mace laughed.
“I’ll show you the beauty of Highgarden!”
Even now, his voice remained impossibly loud.
Gawen ended up staying at Highgarden longer than expected.
Yet every one of those days proved worthwhile.
Mace often accompanied his father on falcon hunts, bringing Gawen along.
The Tyrell falcons were magnificently trained.
Watching them dive gracefully through the air to snatch rabbits and other small game from the meadows was mesmerizing.
They also enjoyed a brief excursion upon the river.
Though pleasant, it left little impression on Gawen.
He found horseback rides through the surrounding countryside far more enjoyable.
Although Mace’s vanity had already begun to blossom…
Gawen genuinely liked him.
In his eyes, Mace was simply a man striving to accomplish great things and earn the approval of his parents.
At least…
That was how Gawen saw him.
The remainder of his stay was spent exploring the castle itself.
Its breathtaking architecture and magnificent gardens rivaled even the falcon hunts in beauty.
For a druid…
Such places nourished not only the eyes, but also the soul.
Especially the gardens.
The unfamiliar environment caused the numbers on his status panel to increase far more rapidly than usual.
“Look!”
Mace pointed excitedly toward an enormous tree.
“We call it the Three Singers!”
A small pond rested nearby.
Beside it stood a colossal weirwood so ancient that Gawen shivered the instant his senses touched it.
In truth…
It wasn’t a single tree at all.
Three separate weirwoods had grown together, their trunks intertwined into one massive organism.
Even more astonishing…
None of them had withered.
“Not enough magical energy…”
Gawen silently speculated.
“So they fused together…
perhaps to survive just a little longer.”
Slowly, he stepped forward.
Then gently placed his palm against the ancient trunk.
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