Chapter 431: The Reach Turmoil

Chapter 431: The Reach Turmoil

Time flies, especially in the tranquil Reach. Several days had passed in the blink of an eye.

On this particular day, Rhaegar rose early as usual, heading downstairs with faint dark circles under his eyes. Margaery was already waiting, her face contorted in surprise as she covered her mouth with her hand."Prince, what happened? Didn't you have a good night's sleep?"

Rhaegar gave a sideways glance and said, "Don't make a fuss."

He casually gathered his long, silver hair and walked straight to the dining table. Margaery, momentarily speechless, swallowed the comforting words she had prepared.

The host and guest remained silent as they sat down to eat. Rhaegar said nothing as he devoured the monotonous bread and sausage. Margaery watched silently, the milk she was sipping losing its flavor.

The handsome prince from the picture stories was just as striking in real life, but unfortunately, he had a sharp tongue. People often build unrealistic expectations in their minds, and over time, they face a kind of sad disillusionment.

Rhaegar couldn't help but smile, sensing Margaery's gaze. In his daily observations, he had two words for her: chatterbox and drama queen. Ignoring her, she could go on for an hour, finding topics you want to avoid. The best way to handle her was to cut her off firmly, shoving the words back into her warm throat like a mop at the first sign of her chatter.

"I'm done eating."

After drinking his warm milk, Rhaegar gently massaged his dark circles and asked, "Is Lord Tyrell not back yet?"

"Yesterday, Father wrote that he had already set out and would be back in Highgarden soon," Margaery responded, managing her expression and speaking patiently.

"That's good. The front lines won't wait long."

"Don't worry, the Tyrells are your most loyal allies," Margaery said, smiling as she spoke of her father's loyalty and dedication. She mentioned the past friction with Hightower to secure the crown prince's position and his determination to rally the entire realm behind the war effort.

"Old Tyrell is a good man," Rhaegar nodded, his eyes straying to a vase of red roses decorating the table. Highgarden had an abundance of roses and wealth. In the spacious courtyard, roses of all kinds were planted, filling the air with their fragrance year-round.

The roses on the table were beautiful, tied together in a bouquet, their petals bright red and bursting with life. Rhaegar crossed his arms and stared at them, lost in thought.

The red roses were very beautiful, but they seemed too showy and exaggerated. As he gazed at them, one of the roses tilted its head as if dozing.

Pop!

The fragile neck of the rose snapped without warning, and the flower gently fell onto the white marble table. As it hit the surface, a few petals scattered, like bright red dye smeared on white paper. Rhaegar paused for a moment, then looked away.

Margaery noticed and said, "The waiter didn't choose well. How could he bring a rose that's so delicate?"

"Is it the fault of the servant or the rose?" Rhaegar muttered, lost in thought.

It was peculiar. Since the war began, he hadn't had a single dream. But since moving into Highgarden, where everything seemed perfect, his nerves had relaxed, and the nightmares returned one after another. Last night, he dreamt of war—a great fire consuming the flower garden for miles, with the flowers' wails contrasting the beauty of the blossoms and the horror of the destruction.

Clatter...

Light footsteps came from the stairs. Helaena, dressed in a white dress, stood at the top, holding onto the railing. Rhaegar looked up at the sound.

In a trance, Helaena blurted out, "A beast that has escaped its cage is difficult to stop."

Rhaegar frowned, trying to decipher the abrupt sentence. Margaery wiped the milk stains from the corner of her mouth and approached worriedly. "Helena, what do you mean?"

She was very perceptive and sensed the underlying meaning.

Dong! Dong! Dong!

The words had barely left her mouth when three bells outside the castle rang out, heavy and oppressive. Rhaegar and Margaery turned pale and looked out together.

Highgarden, outside the city walls.

A cavalry unit galloped up to the city gate, raising a cloud of dust. Their banner depicted a burning tower on a green background.

"Roar!"

Suddenly, a thunderous dragon roar resounded through the sky, like an explosion in their ears. The hundred-strong cavalry team looked up in shock, staring at the sky. A black dragon burst through the clouds, creating a gust of wind that tore through the sky.

Boom!

The black wings blotted out the sun as the coal-black dragon landed outside the city walls, its stark contrast to the white stone making the scene all the more vivid.

"Roar!"

Cannibal's green pupils were cold as it extended its neck, warning the cavalry with another roar. The horses, terrified, scattered, causing several riders to fall.

"Steady, don't panic," Ormund Hightower shouted, tightening his reins and commanding his subordinates.

At the same time, Cannibal advanced slowly, green dragonfire flickering from its fangs. Rhaegar sat on the dragon's back, looking down coldly. "The Lord has been assassinated. What is Lord Ormund doing here?"

Old Tyrell had left Oldtown after a quarrel with Ormund and had been assassinated en route. The body had just been brought back to Highgarden, and now Ormund had arrived. Suspicious, to say the least.

Facing the terrifying black dragon, Ormund retreated from his horse, his voice shaking. "Prince, the cavalry of Highgarden has requested my assistance."

Rhaegar's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the cavalry ranks. A rider in full armor stepped forward, his round shield emblazoned with the golden rose of House Tyrell.

"Deserting on a battlefield?" Rhaegar accused immediately.

The knight shook his head frantically. "It was the Lord who told me to seek help. I went to Honeyholt first, and then to Oldtown."

Rhaegar noticed more than a dozen riders with shields bearing the three hive emblems. It was hard to determine their authenticity.

Turning back to Ormund, Rhaegar asked, "Have you caught the murderer?"

Ormund hurriedly replied, "I arrived too late. All that was left were the bodies of a few Tyrosh mercenaries."

Tyrosh was known for its mercenaries, easily identifiable by their colorful hair dye. Hearing this, Rhaegar clenched his fists in anger and forced himself to remain calm.

"Dorne! Damn war!"

The assassination of the Lord of Highgarden, a long-time enemy of Dorne, during the Dorne Rebellion was a blatant provocation that set the nerves of the entire Reach and even Westeros on edge.

Taking a deep breath, Rhaegar shouted, "Gather the Coalition forces of the Reach and march on Dorne today!"

"Roar!"

Cannibal roared again, sensing its rider's anger, and flapped its wings, ascending into the sky. Despite the chill in his heart, Rhaegar remained focused. The assassination had happened recently; he intended to intercept the mercenaries and uncover how they infiltrated The Reach and knew the old Tyrell's whereabouts.

That night, Highgarden's ravens flew out in large numbers, stirring the entire Reach. Nobles, both great and small, gathered their soldiers and hurried to Highgarden. They were united by a single belief.

Revenge! Avenge the invasion of Dorne.