Chapter 430 The weirwood bless you!
"Please take a seat, the guests will be here shortly."
Margaery sat on a brown round stool and greeted the Targaryen brothers and sisters openly.
Her bright face shows off her beauty, and her brown eyes are like those of a deer in the forest. Just one look at her will make your heart beat wildly.
Rega glanced at it and felt that the flesh between his lips and teeth was still sweeter.
It’s not that he has no aesthetic taste, nor does he have extraordinary vision.
When you experience the baptism of blood and fire one after another, you will see wreckage and charred corpses in front of you, screams in your ears, and a strong smell of burning in your mouth and nose.
It's somewhat unthinkable.
Rhaegar thought, smiled, and sat down on a round stool.
"Brother~"
Helena tilted her head and noticed something strange.
People with sensitive minds are always one step ahead.
Rega was stunned for a moment, rubbed her little head, and smiled: "Don't worry about me, you are a little hot, enjoy the ice."
As a dreamwalker who has been trapped in nightmares since childhood, his psychology is not that fragile.
It's just that the killing is too heavy, adding a little haze inside.
He had to spend his time cleaning it up, like a squire sweeping away garbage with a broom.
Helena looked serious, looked back and forth, and then turned her head.
She believed in her brother.
My brother said he was fine, so there must be a reason why he was fine.
Margaery witnessed the whole process and said enviously: "You brothers and sisters have such a good relationship, especially His Highness Rhaegar, who is more gentle than my two dead brothers."
The men of Highgarden are gentle-hearted and high-profile gentlemen.
Rega's eyes flickered, and he unconsciously picked up the wine glass and took a sip of the sweet fruit wine.
Helena's face was slightly red, she picked up the wine glass and drank it "tons, tons, tons".
Margaery:…
Did she say anything?
His eyes fell on the new sister's freckled face, wondering why she was blushing so much.
Rhaegar glanced at it, felt the little boots lightly kicking under the table, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
How could you understand the Targaryen thing.
Guests arrived one after another and the banquet officially began.
After a round of boring greetings, some peace finally returned.
Rhaegar smiled stiffly and drank more frequently.
Margaery covered her mouth and snickered: "The prince is still so averse to fun."
Rhaegar smiled politely.
There was no way, the position under his butt decided him to do this.
The guests this time were of extraordinary origin, including members of the Rowan, Tully, Bisbury, and Redwin families.
Although most of them are women, they represent the faces of various families.
The men under their command charged into battle for the Targaryens, and Rhaegar must return the favor one by one.
As the singer plays the strings, the melodious singing voice spreads, adding a romantic atmosphere to the hot summer.
Margery seems to be a natural talker. Words pour out from her bright red mouth in an endless stream. Miraculously, she is surprisingly not annoying.
Listening to the lark-like voice, I can always keep a good mood unconsciously.
Rhaegar didn't notice at all, Margaery held the drunken Helena in her arms, her pretty face pressed against hers.
I have to admit, these two beauties, one big and one small, are very eye-catching.
"Forehead……"
Rhaegar's eyelids twitched, hesitating whether he should stop it or not.
He thought of Jenny, who was raising her child in the Eagle's Nest.
Before they met, she seemed to have an unusual relationship with Zhan Sifu.
Many nobles in Westeros are secretly discussing it.
Rhaegar can prove that there is indeed something wrong with the relationship between the two women, so good that they sleep under the same quilt.
But as far as he knew, no physical collision beyond friendship had ever occurred.
Occasionally, when the mood strikes, Jenny will tease him about whether he should invite Zhan Sifu to join in.
Rhaegar knew that Jenny couldn't stand it anymore.
"Helena, you are more beautiful than the last time we met. Your skin feels like butter pudding, soft and bouncy."
Just when Rhaegar couldn't help but speak, Margaery let go of Helena and praised her reluctantly.
Helena had never experienced such intimacy before. Her face was as red as a monkey's butt, and she struggled to say: "No, it's just that riding a dragon makes me happy."
As he spoke, his forehead was so nervous that steam came out.
Rhaegar held his forehead with one hand and really didn't see it.
It was handled too quickly.
Margaery smiled and let Helena sober up in her arms. She pointed her finger at Rhaegar and opened the topic: "My father is visiting Old Town. I heard that Lord Mond Hightower has a strong opinion and wants to fight for the throne of the Reach. Commander-in-Chief of the Allied Forces."
Hearing this, Rhaegar perked up.
He became interested and asked curiously: "Oh, who can Old Tyrell choose?"
Since Allison married his father and Otto became Lord Chancellor again, the Hightowers' influence has grown.
I believe that no matter how confused old Tyrell is, he will not encourage Hightower's arrogance.
Margaery pursed her lips and said playfully: "Of course it is Lord Thaddeus of the Rowan family. He and his brother-in-law, Earl Donald Tully, are both good players and loyal."
After a pause, he added in a low voice: "Although Lord Thaddeus is a bit fat, it makes people doubt whether he can wear armor."
After finishing the message he wanted to say, he chuckled happily.
Rhaegar understood what he heard and smiled brightly: "Lord Thaddeus is a good man, but I'm afraid Mond Hightower will get angry."
The Rowan family has been the top noble in the Reach for generations, and to some extent is not inferior to the Tyrell family.
The contemporary Thaddeus Rowan, whose sister is married to Earl Tully of Horn Hill, possesses both wealth and martial spirit.
It's not that big-nosed fool from Mond who can do anything.
Margaery's smile became even stronger and she added: "I also heard that the Hightower family's ships are bound for Myr and Tyrosh, intending to open up overseas trading points."
As the Rose of Highgarden, she is naturally hostile to the Hightower of Oldtown.
Hightower secretly contacted the nobles of the Reach, large and small, and got into trouble with the lord.
Lei Jia's eyes narrowed, this was the first time he heard about this.
The three city-states are all the best ports, occupying the maritime trade chain on both sides of the narrow sea, and their potential is even greater than that of the Old Town, the first port of Westeros.
With the Hightower family's shrewdness and business acumen, taking root in the three city-states was like a fish in water.
Rhaegar thought to himself: "A vassal who is too rich is not a good vassal."
Hightower is already rich enough, and its sphere of influence includes the headquarters and the school city of the Church of the Seven Gods, to put it unequivocally.
It can be called the central point of "culture and trade".
When thinking of Allison's stepmother's face, Rhaegar was full of resistance: "A foolish woman with wishful thinking."
The two of them were talking excitedly when a slim figure came over.
Mrs. Alyssa kept smiling: "Margery, many noble ladies are looking for you, and I can't handle them all."
She has a soft voice and a dignified posture.
At first glance, she appears to be a rare and virtuous wife.
Rhaegar and Margaery looked up at her at the same time, neither of them spoke, their expressions were very subtle.
A good while.
Rega coughed lightly and said, "I'll take Helena down to rest, you guys are busy."
"The banquet has just begun, why don't you stay a little longer?"
Mrs. Alyssa changed color slightly, her expression was a little unnatural.
Rega shook his head: "No, I can just walk around the garden alone later."
Margaery also stood up, handed the confused Helena to Rhaegar, and said apologetically: "Then I'll take my leave first."
After that, he bypassed Mrs. Alyssa and went straight to a group of little sisters.
Mrs. Alyssa looked a little confused and found an excuse to walk away.
Rega looked at her back and couldn't help laughing: "Who doesn't have a stepmother? Her acting skills are far worse than Allison's."
Although Allison hates it, he still contributes to Targaryen and helps his father manage the Red Keep.
Even when dealing with Rhaenyra and him, it seemed reasonable on the surface, and they hadn't broken their skin yet.
In contrast, Mrs. Alyssa made a decisive decision.
"Woo~"
Helena's eyes were dim and she asked confusedly: "What's wrong with mother?"
She seemed to hear her brother mention her mother's name.
Rega picked her up by the waist and said angrily: "It's nothing, I'm just praising her."
"Oh." Helena believed it.
Looking at Helena with her eyes closed, Rhaegar was angry and funny.
Allison is truly a wonderful husband and a wonderful family.
Feeling the light and soft touch in his arms, there is one more reason to tolerate Allison.
Hate!
…
Dusk.
The temperature has cooled down slightly, and the fiery clouds in the sky are like dye, embellishing the sunset scene.
The sacred forest and a single green courtyard.
Rhaegar was in a relaxed mood, his silver hair hanging casually around his shoulders, and he walked with his clothes open as he walked along the path paved with white marble.
Exotic flowers and plants are planted on both sides of the path, and the stone sculptures and pools complement each other.
"Uh huh huh~~"
Rhaegar closed his eyes slightly and hummed a popular ballad played on the harp.
He could actually take out his harp and play it, but it's not necessary.
He didn't really appreciate the hummed songs either.
I just feel free to do whatever I want, and the song is catchy.
Just stubborn.
Unconsciously, a strange-looking weirwood tree appeared at the corner of the garden.
Rhaegar saw it, and Rhaegar stepped forward.
Highgarden is a relatively developed castle, where beliefs in both old and new gods are allowed.
Rhaegar opened his eyes, raised his head, and looked up and down at the ugly tree.
This weirwood is unlike any other weirwood you've ever seen.
The roots spread far and wide, and the rhizomes protruded from the ground, like veins on the back of a person's hand.
The thick tree trunks are divided into three parts, entangled with each other like pythons, and the branches grow complex red leaves, covering the land with shadows.
A strange human face is carved on each pale tree trunk.
Some laugh, some cry, some are full of sadness.
Rhaegar only took one glance and was deeply attracted by the ugly appearance.
He walked forward unconsciously and reached out to touch the rough bark.
As soon as he took it, Rega trembled all over and his eyes flickered.
Pause for a moment, take back your hand, and back away.
Rhaegar crossed his arms, looked up at the tall scarlet tree crown, and grinned: "What the hell, the aesthetics are really deformed."
After saying that, he turned around and walked away quickly.
He considers himself a pure Valyrian dragonlord.
The Dragon King has no faith.
Regardless of the Seven Gods or the Old Gods, he can just show off, that is, just show off.
Rhaegar glanced back at the weirwood, his eyes wary.
When I touched it just now, I suddenly felt a surge of magic power.
That trace of magic power disappeared just as quickly as it came, disappearing without a trace.
Rhaegar had never felt this way.
It was as if she was hiding something from him, not wanting the world to see her true appearance.
Rhaegar let go and didn't want to delve into it for the time being.
At the same time, an idea emerged in my mind.
Compared to the nosy Seven Gods, the Old Gods seem to have something real.
I just don’t know if this is a lot.
"I haven't dreamed for a while. Go back to sleep."
Rhaegar yawned and slowly returned to the castle.
Being frightened by the weirwood tree, the stress symptoms caused by the war suddenly got better.
It suddenly felt like it was just that, not that heavy.
Rhaegar was stunned at this thought, clasped his hands together, and muttered: "The old gods bless you, the weirwood bless you."
I don’t believe it, but I want to try it.
When we walked out of the garden, the sun was almost setting.
Rega's expression was calm, with a smile on his lips.
My mood felt relaxed and my brain was very active.
He has already agreed on the implementation of the strategy against Dorne and the idea of "taking good care of" the Hightower family.
