Game of Thrones: Knight's Honor-Chapter 337: Little Rose’s Unannounced Visit

Lynd climbed onto his dragon's back and turned to those seeing him off.

"Please make sure to assist the acting Lord Commander in carrying out the plans we set before. I'll find a proper candidate for the position as soon as I can."

The crowd responded with a chorus of agreement. All pledged to support the acting Lord Commander—but Samwell Tarly, the man in question, stood there dazed, still trying to understand how he had suddenly ended up in that role. He hadn't quite wrapped his head around it yet.

Just earlier, everyone had been discussing whether to select the new Lord Commander using the traditional method. But Lynd had firmly rejected that. Following tradition would have meant summoning representatives from every castle along the Wall, and calling the rangers back from the outposts beyond it to take part in a vote. That alone would have thrown the entire order of the Night's Watch into chaos.

More importantly, though they had captured the assassin responsible for killing the previous Lord Commander, his accomplices were still unaccounted for. Choosing a new Lord Commander through a vote now—what if the winner turned out to be one of those very accomplices?

So Lynd scrapped the idea of a traditional vote entirely. Instead, he appointed a temporary Lord Commander to handle the duties for now. Once he found someone more suitable—someone with proper status and background—he'd have that person formally join the Night's Watch and take over the role.

Lynd's approach was unconventional, yes, but not without precedent. Maester Aemon even found multiple examples in Night's Watch history where, in times of crisis, special measures were taken to select a commander without going through the usual vote of every brother.

Still, the identity of Lynd's chosen acting Lord Commander came as a surprise to everyone. He didn't pick from among the castle commanders. He didn't choose a senior ranger. He didn't even select from among the more experienced brothers. Instead, he named Samwell Tarly—the man known throughout Castle Black for being timid and weak.

Everyone had been stunned. Many objected outright. But Lynd's explanation eventually won them over.

He gave three reasons.

First, Sam was one of the least likely people in the entire Night's Watch to have been involved in the assassination. No one would ever try to recruit someone like Sam for such a thing.

Second, Sam had no allegiance to any faction. He wasn't aligned with the common-born brothers, nor with the noble-born. He didn't belong to the so-called Northern or Southern camps based on kingdom origin either. Thanks to his poor reputation, no one had tried to rope him into their circle. That made him an ideal neutral party—someone who wouldn't favor any side in his leadership.

And third—and perhaps most importantly—Sam had long served at the side of both the Lord Commander and Maester Aemon. He was deeply familiar with the progress of the Watch's key initiatives: integrating the wildlings, preparing for the threat of the White Walkers, and more. He didn't need time to adjust. He could take over immediately and keep things running.

What the Night's Watch needed now wasn't a warrior to lead them into battle. They needed a steward—someone who could keep their existing plans on track.

Lynd's reasoning was solid, and the brothers of the Watch eventually accepted it. Still, what truly solidified Sam's position was Lynd's personal backing. With him standing behind Sam, no one dared voice further dissent.

After reaffirming his support, Lynd took to the sky on the back of Neltharion and flew south.

...

The very next day, several figures appeared near the Wall. There were both men and women among them—some towering, others so short they looked like children. As they caught sight of the Wall ahead, they let out cries of joy.

It was Bran and his companions, who had escaped from Winterfell. They had traveled under cover of night, avoiding the roads and taking mountain paths to reach the Wall undetected.

"Where do we go now? To the crows' Castle Black?" the wildling woman Osha asked, looking at the Wall with visible distaste.

"No. To Icemark," came two voices in perfect unison. The speakers were Bran—riding on Hodor's back—and Jojen Reed, who had helped him evade pursuit on the road.

Along their journey, Bran and his group had encountered the Reed siblings. According to them, Jojen had foreseen Bran's plight and had been waiting for them on the road to help them escape.

Lord Eddard had often spoken of House Reed of Greywater Watch as his most trustworthy bannermen. Because of that, Bran and his friends had quickly come to trust Jojen and Meera. And throughout their escape, the siblings had proven invaluable—guiding them safely through beast-filled forests and the desolate lands of the Gift.

Although this was Bran's first time coming to the Wall, both he and Jojen walked as though they knew the way by heart. They headed directly toward Icemark, and before long, they were standing just outside its gates.

However, to their surprise, someone was already waiting at the gate. Upon seeing the group, the man stepped forward and said, "Lord Willas has been expecting you. Please follow me."

Without offering any further explanation, he turned and led them into the castle.

"We should be careful. These crows can't be trusted," the wildling woman Osha said grimly, gripping the wooden club in her hand.

"Don't worry. They don't mean us any harm," Bran reassured her, then signaled for the others to follow as he entered Icemark behind the Night's Watchman.

The arrival of the two surviving Stark children at the Wall was kept secret by the Night's Watch stationed at Icemark. Those searching for them still believed they were hiding somewhere in the forests and wilderness of the North.

Back at Summerhall, Lynd had also ordered a search for Bran and Rickon, but no news had come. If Lynd hadn't known the truth about Bran's condition, he might have assumed they had died somewhere in the Wolfswood.

Still, Lynd didn't devote much attention to the matter. Though Bran had once been a key figure in the fight against the White Walkers, the world had changed, and it was no longer clear whether he still held the same importance as he had in the stories of the past.

After finishing a report sent from Pentos, Lynd was preparing to turn to the next matter on his agenda.

Just then, Jon Falwell rushed in. Upon seeing Lynd, he immediately reported, "My lord, Lady Margaery is here and requests an audience." freeweɓnovel.cøm

"Lady Margaery?" Lynd paused, quickly realizing who Jon meant, and asked with a puzzled look, "What is she doing here?"

He ordered Jon to bring her in, and soon saw Margaery Tyrell enter—completely covered by a loose robe, even her head concealed beneath a hood. She looked every bit the part of someone trying not to draw attention.

"Good afternoon, Lord Lynd," Margaery said as she reached him, removing her hood and giving a flawless, graceful curtsey.

"Ah—good afternoon, Lady Margaery." Lynd nodded, caught a little off guard by her sudden appearance. "What brings you here to see me?"

"I would like to stay here with you for a while, Lord Lynd. Is that all right?" Margaery asked directly.

"Of course. You're welcome to stay as long as you like," Lynd replied casually. But behind her, Jon quickly made a subtle gesture, which gave Lynd pause. He hesitated briefly, then seemed to realize something and asked, "Lady Margaery... does Lord Mace know you're here at Summerhall?"

At that, Margaery glanced back at Jon, who was doing his best to look properly solemn, then turned back to Lynd with a smile. "No. Apart from my brother Garlan and the trusted knight he sent to escort me, no one else knows I'm here."

Lynd let out a quiet sigh and asked, "Is this because the Iron Throne wants to rekindle the marriage alliance with Highgarden?"

Margaery gave a bitter smile. "Being born into House Tyrell, I've always accepted that marriage might be a duty—for the family's benefit. I don't mind that part. But my father has gone too far this time." Her expression darkened, and her voice grew more animated. "The Lord of Highgarden, letting the Iron Throne humiliate us like this—breaking off the engagement whenever it pleases, then trying to restore it just as easily, and spreading vile rumors about me in the process? Shouldn't a father stand up to defend his daughter, to reject those insults and drive them away? And yet he just says he'll 'consider it'? It's—it's just..."

So furious she couldn't even finish the sentence, Margaery clenched her fists, struggling to find words strong enough to express her outrage.

Lynd asked, "And what about Lady Olenna? She didn't say anything?"

Margaery shook her head, visibly discouraged. "Grandmother didn't say a word. It feels like she's taken Father's side."

"I see." Lynd nodded. "I won't reveal your whereabouts. You're welcome to stay here as long as you like."

"Thank you for your kindness," Margaery said, offering another graceful curtsey.

Lynd called in one of the castle attendants and instructed, "Prepare the guest room next to Lady Sansa's for this young lady. She should receive the same treatment as Lady Sansa."

"The Sansa you mean—is that Lady Sansa Stark of the North?" Margaery asked curiously.

"Yes," Lynd replied with a nod.

Margaery asked again, "I heard that Lady Sansa serves as your assistant here and helps with the affairs of Summerhall?"

"You've got that wrong. She assists Jon, not me," Lynd said, gesturing toward Jon Falwell standing nearby.

Margaery thought for a moment, then asked, "May I serve as your assistant as well? Help you manage your duties? After all, I'm living here at your expense—it feels improper. If I can help with something I'm capable of, I can at least offset the cost of my stay. And it would give me something to focus on instead of dwelling on unpleasant things. What do you think?"

Lynd looked at the Little Rose standing before him, seemingly weighing her offer.

Margaery, believing he was assessing her capability, quickly added with confidence, "Please rest assured about my skills. Back at Highgarden, I often helped Father and Garlan with administrative matters."

Lynd smiled, then picked up a document from the table and handed it to her. "Read this, and tell me what's important in it and how you think it should be handled."

Margaery accepted the document and began reading carefully. At first, she thought it concerned a minor issue within Summerhall's lands, but she soon realized how wrong she was. The scope of what was written far exceeded her expectations.

The document wasn't about Westeros at all—it was part of an expansion plan toward the distant east.

Though the Miracle Fleet had already secured permission from the Port Moraq to establish a base on the nearby coast, the distance to Asshai remained vast, and the supply lines too long. So Hollis Redwyne proposed building several satellite bases on islands along the route to Asshai, forming a chain of naval outposts. He had even listed a few candidates for these sub-bases: the Manticore Isles, Marahai, Isle of Elephants, and others.

Margaery was completely taken aback. These were places of legend, so distant that many believed they didn't even exist—like Asshai itself, often called the Far East or the edge of the world.

Though she considered herself well-educated, all her knowledge was rooted in Westeros. She had never studied regions so remote.

After setting the document down, she didn't say a word. Instead, she gave Lynd a wounded look, as if accusing him of giving her the document just to make her feel inadequate.

Lynd looked at her calmly and said, "You don't need to worry about where those places are. Just tell me the pros and cons of establishing bases there. Once they're built, how would you recoup the construction costs? And how would you allocate personnel for each base?"

Margaery took a moment to think, then carefully laid out her thoughts.

Jon, who was also familiar with the contents of the document and how it had been processed, couldn't hide his surprise as he listened. Margaery's analysis mirrored much of what they had ultimately concluded in their own discussions. The only major differences lay in the numbers—construction costs, troop sizes, logistical details—which were off by a wide margin. But that wasn't surprising. She had no knowledge of Summerhall's actual resources, so her estimates being off was entirely understandable.

Lynd, for his part, showed no reaction—just quietly listened to everything she said.

"Is that everything?" he asked after she finished.

"Yes, that's everything," Margaery replied with a nod, watching him a little nervously.

Lynd smiled. "You're even more capable than I expected. You may work at my side as my assistant and help with my affairs." As he spoke, he pushed a stack of documents toward her. "Now go through all of these, write down how you would handle each one, and give them to me for review."

Margaery stared blankly at the pile of paperwork in front of her and suddenly wondered if she had made a terrible mistake.