Game of Thrones: Knight’s Honor

Vortimer instructed Jon to wait in the guard room by the door for a moment before leading Lynd deeper into the castle alone.

"Lord Vortimer, what's going on? Why is everyone..." As they entered a maze of trees, a middle-aged man in armor emerged from one of the pathways, his tone serious as he walked toward them.

Due to the corner at the maze's exit, the man initially only noticed Vortimer, who was leading the way, unaware of Lynd and Glory following behind. It wasn't until he rounded the corner that he saw them, and his reaction mirrored Vortimer's earlier one. He froze, his words dying on his lips, and instinctively reached for his weapons.

"Lord Igon Vyrwel, I would like to introduce you to Lynd Tarran, the Bear Hunter I mentioned earlier," Vortimer said, a smile breaking across his face at Igon's startled expression. He stepped aside to allow Igon and Lynd to meet.

"Lynd, this is the Lord's Captain of the Guard. He oversees all the castle guards and close protection officers of Highgarden. Together with Lord Roger, he manages the internal and external armed forces and is among the Lord's most trusted advisers."

"Lynd the Bear Hunter?" Igon Vyrwel repeated, his eyes moving from Lynd, clad in magnificent armor, to the imposing presence of Glory. For a moment, he seemed too shocked to speak.

"Lord Igon," Lynd said, bowing respectfully.

"Ser Lynd," Igon quickly recovered, realizing his lapse in decorum, and returned the bow. It was clear he was a knight steeped in tradition.

"Weren't you in the garden? Why are you here?" Vortimer asked, his tone curious.

"What else could it be?" Igon gestured toward the castle gates. "A guard reported that a large crowd has gathered in the square outside. It feels like an uprising."

"An uprising?" Vortimer chuckled and turned to Lynd with an amused look. "On your first visit to Highgarden, no less. This is unprecedented—it'll surely be recorded in Maester Lomys's annals of Highgarden."

As he jested, Vortimer explained the events outside the castle to Igon, whose astonishment only deepened. While he was aware of the Song of the Bear Hunter's popularity in Highgarden, he had never imagined it could incite such a commotion. Even Lord Tyrell's return during a grand parade hadn't drawn this level of attention.

"Go to the garden and explain everything. I'll take him to see the Lord," Vortimer instructed.

"Hm," Igon muttered, suddenly recalling the Lords and Ladies still upset in the garden. They needed clarification to settle the misunderstanding caused by the guards. Without delay, he turned and disappeared into the maze, heading toward the garden.

Vortimer resumed leading Lynd toward the castle. Along the way, many guards and servants paused to gawk at Glory, whispering in awe as they passed.

Vortimer's tone grew serious. "The commotion you caused today was truly excessive. Someone will undoubtedly use this as a pretext to criticize you. Ignore them—they're just envious of your achievements in Tumbleton."

"I understand, my lord," Lynd replied with a nod.

"It's clear from what we saw earlier that you've gained quite a bit of popularity in Highgarden," Vortimer said, his tone measured. "Though it may be fleeting, it's enough to unsettle the Lord. After this escort mission, you'll likely be sent back to Tumbleton to continue the anti-bandit campaign. Even if you're rewarded with a manor and a village, they almost certainly won't be anywhere near Highgarden."

He stopped and turned to face Lynd and Glory, his gaze steady and pointed. "This outcome is what you were expecting, isn't it?"

Lynd smiled faintly. "I'll do whatever the Lord commands."

"Exactly," Vortimer said with a nod, continuing to lead Lynd forward.

Before long, they reached the inner ring of Highgarden's castle walls. This section was taller, thicker, and more ornate than the outer walls, adorned with lush vines and countless red and golden roses at the base. The air was thick with their fragrance, creating an atmosphere more akin to a garden than a defensive structure.

At this time, the guards tasked with safeguarding this side of the city wall stood at the gate, their alertness palpable. Though fear gleamed unmistakably in their eyes as they glanced at Glory, they strove to maintain stern expressions on their faces.

Vortimer gestured for Lynd to hold back for a moment before stepping forward to speak with the guards. Meanwhile, Lynd, like anyone seeing this part of the city wall for the first time, looked around with keen curiosity. However, his curiosity was tinged with a peculiar edge—an influence of the Peacekeeper's memories. Upon seeing the castle, he instinctively assessed its weak points and began mentally simulating an attack strategy.

Since gaining the Banished Knight's memories, they had become the dominant external influence on him. Yet, the Peacekeeper's imprint had not faded entirely. Certain habits lingered—such as analyzing a castle's vulnerabilities and planning how to overcome them at first sight.

At the city gate, Vortimer's negotiations met resistance. Although Lynd's identity posed no issue, Glory's intimidating presence was another matter. The guards feared that Glory might suddenly lose control, posing a threat to the powerful individuals within the inner city. Thus, they would only allow Lynd entry if Glory remained chained in the outer ring area.

Vortimer, however, knew this was a dangerous proposition. Leaving a beast as massive as Glory away from its master was risky enough, but he had personally witnessed Glory bite through an iron cage in its youth. Now fully grown, no ordinary chain would hold her. If restrained and agitated, Glory might break free and cause havoc, potentially attacking indiscriminately. The consequences could be catastrophic, especially since the Outer Ring District currently hosted the noble wives and ladies of Highgarden. If Glory harmed any of them, even Vortimer might not escape severe repercussions.

"Wait here for a moment; I'll go and see the Lord first," Vortimer instructed Lynd, gesturing toward a small garden nearby meant for visitors to rest. He indicated for Lynd to wait there and then slipped through a small open door into the Inner Ring District.

Lynd, still turning over thoughts of how to breach the castle's defenses, led Glory to the garden. He found a marble pavilion, sat down, and let his mind wander. Glory, appearing bored, lay beside him. Occasionally, she rested her head on Lynd's thigh, inviting him to pet her.

After some time, Lynd heard a rustling noise from the maze of trees behind him. Turning, he saw a little girl, no more than three or four years old, emerge from beneath the trees, her face filled with triumph. She froze briefly upon spotting Lynd and seemed momentarily embarrassed. Brushing leaves from her clothes, she straightened her posture and gave him a graceful bow befitting a noble lady.

"Good afternoon, Ser," she greeted.

"Good afternoon, Lady," Lynd replied with a nod.

The little girl started to walk away, lifting her skirts carefully. But then her eyes fell on Glory, sprawled near Lynd. Unlike others who shrank back or avoided the massive beast, her expression was full of wonder and curiosity.

With unexpected boldness, she stepped closer and reached out to touch Glory. Sensing the movement, Glory shifted away, avoiding her hand. The great beast turned its massive head, baring its teeth in a warning snarl and letting out a low, menacing growl.

The girl, undeterred, reached out again. Glory's temper flared, its instincts urging it to lash out and bite her.

However, Lynd reached out in time, placing one hand firmly on Glory's head while using the other to gently block the little girl's hand. "Glory doesn't like to be petted," he said calmly. "It makes it feel very uncomfortable, and when a beast feels uncomfortable, it will want to bite."

The little girl nodded as if she understood, withdrawing her hand. She refrained from trying to touch Glory again and instead sat down beside Lynd. Her gaze lingered on Glory with unabated curiosity. "Is its name Glory?" she asked.

"Yes," Lynd replied casually.

The girl's curiosity deepened. "Is it a Shadowcat? I've seen one before—Ser Barn gave Brother Willas a stuffed Shadowcat. It looked a lot like this one, but it was much smaller and didn't have so many colors in its fur."

"Yes, it is a Shadowcat," Lynd confirmed. As he answered, his gaze shifted slightly, observing the girl with a trace of scrutiny. The way she had addressed Willas Tyrell left little doubt in Lynd's mind that this child was none other than Little Rose—Margaery Tyrell herself.

In his previous life, forums discussing Game of Thrones had frequently featured polls for favorite female characters, with Margaery Tyrell, Daenerys Targaryen, and Cersei Lannister often occupying the top three spots. Margaery, known as Little Rose, had even won over Daenerys—despite the latter being the story's central protagonist—on more than one occasion.

Yet Lynd didn't particularly like Little Rose. His disdain wasn't rooted in her penchant for political maneuvering but in the sense of artifice she exuded. Everything about her—her words, her actions, her demeanor—felt premeditated, as though meticulously designed to achieve her ultimate ambition: the throne. To Lynd, she seemed more like a polished construct than an authentic person.

In some ways, however, Lynd recognized the irony of his judgment. His own past actions—the Song of the Bear Hunter, the Tournament, Tumbleton—had all been deliberate steps toward accumulating power. The difference, he thought, was agency. His efforts were driven by his own initiative, while Margaery's trajectory seemed orchestrated by another's hand: the Queen of Thorns.

"Can I see the helmet, Ser?" The little girl's attention shifted suddenly, her gaze alighting on the Banished Knight's helmet tucked under Lynd's arm. Her curiosity was plain.

Lynd handed her the helmet without hesitation. She tried to lift it with both hands but quickly realized it was far too heavy for her. Reluctantly, she let Lynd hold it for her as she examined it closely.

"Is this a dragon?" she asked, pointing to the crown in the shape of a flying dragon atop the helmet.

"Yes," Lynd nodded.

The little girl frowned slightly, her expression turning serious. "The craftsman you hired was careless. They even got the crown wrong," she remarked critically. "This dragon has four legs. Real dragons only have two. I saw a picture of a dragon in Maester Mollos's library."

Lynd didn't refute her observation because she was correct. In this world, dragons indeed only had two legs. Four-legged dragons existed in the Banished Knight's homeland, but they were considered lesser dragons here. The distinction was stark—like that between a human and a monkey—two entirely separate species.

The girl's face lit up with pride at having discovered the mistake and pointing it out.

"Margaery, you're being naughty! We agreed to go through the maze and see who could get out first, but you're hiding…" A little boy emerged from the maze exit near the grove, his voice ringing out as he scanned the area. His eyes landed on the little girl sitting in the pavilion, and he immediately ran over, loudly accusing her. However, as he approached and caught sight of Glory, he froze in his tracks. The words he was about to say stuck in his throat as fear filled his wide eyes.

"Come here, Margaery! It's dangerous over there! Come here!" Despite his evident terror, the boy summoned the courage to take a few hesitant steps forward, frantically waving at the little girl to move away.

"It's fine, Loras. As long as you don't touch Glory, it won't bite," Margaery said casually, waving him off like she was well-acquainted with the beast. But when she noticed Loras still wouldn't move, she added with a hint of disdain, "Loras, you're such a coward."

"I'm not scared!" Loras snapped, the taunt driving him to action. Swallowing his fear, he forced himself to step forward and entered the pavilion. Once inside, he positioned himself between Margaery and Glory, puffed out his chest in an attempt to appear brave, and offered Lynd a salute befitting a young noble.

"Good afternoon, Ser," he said, his voice steady.

"Good afternoon, Master Loras," Lynd replied, returning the salute.

As if reassured that Glory posed no immediate threat, Loras's initial fear quickly dissipated. His attention shifted to Lynd's impressive Banished Knight suit, and his eyes sparkled with admiration. He began asking questions about the armor, already declaring with childlike determination that when he grew up, he would craft a suit of armor even grander than Lynd's.

"Ah!" The sharp sound of alarm interrupted them as a servant, tasked with keeping an eye on the children, arrived, clearly frantic from searching. The servant froze upon seeing Glory, covering their mouth in an effort to stifle a scream. Fear flickered in their eyes, but they made no sudden moves, wary of disturbing the massive beast.

Not long after, a group of noblewomen arrived, guided by their own servants. The scene in the pavilion caused a ripple of fear through the group, their reactions mirroring that of the servant. However, among them was a silver-haired noblewoman dressed in luxurious attire, whose composure stood in stark contrast to the others. She observed the situation attentively, her gaze lingering on Lynd as though piecing together the context of the scene.

Signaling to the others to remain calm, she began walking towards the pavilion. Though trepidation lingered, the noblewomen followed her lead, keeping close as they approached.

"Good afternoon, Ser Lynd. I just heard Lord Egon mention you, and I was curious about the size of the beast he spoke of. I didn't expect to meet you so soon," the noblewoman said, her tone polite and measured as she addressed Lynd upon reaching the gazebo.

"Mother," Margaery and Loras said in unison, confirming the noblewoman's identity.

Recognizing her instantly, Lynd stood up from the stone bench. Drawing on the courtly manners he had learned in King's Landing, he bowed respectfully and said, "Good afternoon, my lady."