[Chapter Size: 3200 Words.]

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  Pessoa Thrid POV

  Westeros, 295 AC.

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  Jon followed Renly to the Tyrell garden to have a versation, while the family members remained cautious and Renly did not seem very well equipped to ha. Jon walked calmly as they approached ae up exclusively for them.

  Renly seemed to break the silence finally after regaining some of his posure from what had happened. "Arctig, please sit," he said, while Jon nodded. Jon, Renly, Wils, and Garn sat, while Loras stood beside Renly like a faithful squire. The Arcti and Tyrells stood at a distance.

  "Do we have to stand here watg them talk?" Tormund pined beside the other royal guards.

  "Yes, Tormund, that's our job, remember?" One of them mocked. Despite finding it a poor task, he remained silent, accepting it.

  Returning to the table with the Westerosi nobles and the King of the Arctic, Renly tinued speaking with a friendly smile to Jon. "So, Lord Jon... Your men are very well trained... I didn't expect to see Ser Boros lose like that," Renly ented.

  "It's true, that's a great advantage of the Arctic, owerful warriors, my guard is traio withstand all kinds of possible flicts," Jon said.

  "That's admirable, I've heard you handle a sword very well too, even achieving great victories against Ser Garn, that's admirable," he said with an expression suggesting it was something grand.

  "I thought I was the best until I met the Arctig's bde, it's no wonder he eveed the Red Viper and, acc to rumors, cut his face," Garn decided to add some praise to his words.

  Although Jon found that kind of talk ing, as if they were c a maideill nodded. "You are exaggerating, Ser Garn, you are also a great warrior and would do well in the Arctic arenas," Jon said.

  "Arenas?" Renly raised an eyebrow as Wils and Garn looked at Jon.

  "Not as you think, we don't have sves to throw into pits like the nobles of Essos do in the sve cities of the southeast ti," Jon said and tinued. "We have spaces where our warriors prove their skills against the best in front of all the Arctic people," Jon said.

  "That sounds like a great show, do you have championships like our tours?" Renly asked, excited to see the versation flowing after all the initial fusion.

  "We don't have jousts, but hand-to-hand bat and archery are among our many games," Jon said.

  "What other kinds of games do you have?" Wils was ied, hearing this for the first time.

  "We have games that test the and of our men, we rank many promising leaders and tactis with them," Jon said, describis where two teams face off with nohal ons while devising the best strategy to front each other.

  "We also have chariot races where we race around the arena structure, anding horses. It's a sport where we have two horses pulling a cart while they race to reach the finish line first," Jon said.

  "Like carriages?" Garn asked, a bit fused by this sport he'd never heard of before.

  "You could say that, but much faster. Unfortunately, despite being a popur sport... we still don't have many horses for the petition," Jon said.

  "That sounds amazing... although hard to imagiill, for a people like you to enjoy it, it must be incredible," Renly praised, tinuing while Loras remained silent. "I heard about yotiation with the Tyrells, not everyone ieros could spend the amount you are spending on horses, you certainly want to fill your nd," he said.

  "Yes, it's one of the resources we need for the kingdom..." Jon ented.

  "Is your kingdom open to visitors?" Renly asked.

  "As I already told Wils and Garn, we are not opening the kingdom yet... I o first secure my business abroad and open the ey in the Arctic before starting to open the kingdom," Jon informed.

  "Ey with that people?" Loras's voice emerged for the first time, creating a tense silence.

  "Loras, you not speak that way tuests?" Renly ented, frowning while even his brothers, Wils and Garn, looked disapprovingly at him.

  Loras was about to respond, but Jon intervened. "Tell me, ser," he began, already losing some patieh these southern people, "besides handling your sword, what kind of skills do you have?" Jon asked, looking directly into his eyes.

  "I..." Loras was a bit lost with that question. What did Jon mean by asking if he knew something besides wielding a sword? He only knew how to be a warrior. Even Garn thought so.

  "I know how to and," Loras thought for a moment and replied to Jon with a direct tone.

  "anding is very good," Jon began. "Have you ever anded 500 men, maybe 1000, 2000?" he asked, leaving Loras a bit speechless. He had a most 30 or 50 Tyrell men in his years.

  "You see that man beside the chatterbox?" Jon poio a royal guard beside Tormund, who was pining. "He is called Ben of House Viskote. He was a simple man; his father was the chief of a nomadic tribe that roamed the region in the early years," Jon said, still remembering whe his tribe as one of the first.

  "His tribe was dying, and I found them in the eastern region fleeing from the west, where their native nd was. He was only 14 years old when I met him, and I was 9 at the time. I was just a child, but his father believed in me and accepted to join my group when Artica didn't eve yet..." As Jon spoke, none of the present interrupted him.

  "Later, I met his son, the oanding there. He was a 14-year-old boy who agreed to bey subordinate, just a child. Whearted building Artica, we began training. Do you know what a boy ready to bee a man, who couldn't read, write, fought like a wildling without discipline, and had a rude vocabury, could learn i six years?" Jon asked Loras, while the boy had no answer.

  "You may not know, but let me tell you, Ser. This boy grew up and learned many things. He and 5,000 men in a battle, I assure you. But besides his bde being able to defeat any man in Highgarden who isn't Arctid having and skills, he is an excellent scribe, produg mas I enjoy reading due to his skill with poetry. From an illiterate wildling, as many would say, he has plete knowledge of the on and a nguages. Additionally, he is a specialist in astronomy, easily reizing any steltion in the sky," Jon said, not taking his eyes off Loras, who still did not uand what he was trying to say, but Wils and Renly had already grasped it, feeling a bit embarrassed by Loras's imprudence.

  "What I mean by this is that even if they are savages to you, the Arctic people learn easily. I doubt you have more knowledge than any royal guard who, unlike you, was not born in a castle surrounded by servants, a maester to teach him from a young age, or had to endure hardships. These men e from the froze, living their lives in stant danger. Say what you will, but don't be surprised when these people prove they learn anything they want. Eics is just on sense; we Arctic people delve into even more plex subjects," Jon finished, while Loras did not know what to respond after hearing this whole speech. In fact, he was fused by it.

  "That is endable, Arctig... Is this the pn for your nation, to educate them after I heard about your hiring of lecturers?" Renly asked.

  "Yes, I io create a literate nation. That is why I am recruiting teachers aurers while buying lots of books wherever I go," Jon looked at everyone. "My dream is to form a nation not only powerful but with the most intelligent people in the world, without having to raise our bdes against any kingdom," Jon said. He would make Artica so powerful that if they entered into flict with Westeros or Essos, it wouldn't ge the oute of his dream.

  "That is very admirable... King of Artica," Wils ented with a certain admiration in his tone.

  "Indeed, I didn't expect such wisdom from the Arctig," Renly appuded this.

  Jon nodded while Loras still did not know how to respond to that. Renly felt more at ease and cpped his hands in the air, while servants approached with wine and food for them, as they began to discuss more muters.

  Meanwhile, Seryna and Arya tinued being apanied by Margaery, who met her cousin on the way, and they all started walking while talking about femiters. They were heading to a baly ihe castle.

  Olenna would joier, but first, she had to exge a few words with the castle's maester, who was to meet with them in a few days.

  "Maester," she approached the library.

  "Lady Olenna!" He greeted her with respect.

  "Were you here the whole time, or did you see our otion at the castle entrance?" She asked with a calg look.

  "I certainly saw it, my Lady, and I must say I was very surprised by that otion. Striking a royal guard is also an affront to the snty of Westeros. I don't uand why Prince Renly accepted it so lightly," he said.

  "Do not speak like that, maester," she replied calmly, knowing that the maester had a certain hostility towards the Arctic people from the first day. She didn't kly what it was but didn't care. "Let's leave that for our representative from King's Landing to resolve," she said, although she thought Renly was a rather weak man to be able to do anything, even if he wao.

  "So, my dy, how I be of service?" He asked.

  "Well, I want to know about some very peculiar things. I spoke with an 11-year-old girl, Arya Stark. She told me she knows several nguages and has knowledge in many areas, which is very hard to believe, I admit," Olenna said while the maester raised an eyebrow at that.

  "What do you mean by that, my dy? A child should not learn more than one nguage..." The maester was skeptical about Olenna's words.

  "That's exactly what I'm saying, maester. The girl cims this, and even the Arctic queen did not disagree. Moreover, they were speaking in a strange nguage, and it wasn't merely words thrown to the wind. I hate dealing with a person I don't know, besides seeing their expressions, and they hide them very well, so it's torture wheart speaking in that nguage without any of us being able to uand..." Olenna told the maester.

  "My dy, this is hard to believe..." he replied cautiously, clearly not believing in such a fantasy.

  "Yes, it's hard, I know. That's why I'd like you to iigate, question the girls. Prince Harry will try to invite Jon Arctic to the bahis time, and I'm sure he will succeed. So, as soon as the opportunity arises, try to talk to them. I want to kly what knowledge they have acquired in that nd and if it is really all that they say," she requested, still maintaining her calg look.

  "Yes, my dy, I will do exactly that," the maester replied.

  For the maester, this erfect opportunity. Even though he didn't believe it, he would do exactly what his dy wanted. After all, his mission from the order i weeks in this pce was to observe and try to get close to the Arctic people. However, their absence from bas and the only ones maintaining tact with them being the nobles of this house and reat houses made it difficult for this maester to get close to one for a versation. Not to mention that the Arctig himself seemed to have some hostility towards him; every time he tried to approach, he was stopped by a fierce look from him. Or he could say his women, but now, asking a few questions, as his dy suggested, there was no reason for them to refuse. Perhaps this was the opportunity to get in touch with them.

  Olenna then began to leave the pce, walking to meet her granddaughter Margaery and her cousin with their panions. As she finally climbed some stairs, she saw them on one of the balies looking at the castle grounds, having tea with a few guards beside the room. She passed by them and approached with a small smile, looking at her guests.

  "It was quite a show your husband put on. I never imagined seeing a royal guard choking on his own blood..." Olenna said to Seryna, while she sat at the table with Margaery, who became a bit shy at her grandmother's words.

  "Jon put him in his pce. The same could be said for Tormund!" The response did not e from Seryna, but from Arya, speaking with a tone of pride.

  "You certainly know how to act when needed. I never liked that royal guard; he always seemed arrogant, and you gave him a good lesson..." Olenna praised.

  "Grandmother... This doesn't seem appropriate for a versation among dies..." Margaery ented, while Olenna smiled.

  "Haha, it's all right, my dear granddaughter. I'm still surprised by what happened. You will uahat this is a very rare event in your life. But it certainly showed that Jon Arctic has his fangs and doesn't seem to care about the status of those who offend him. I just hope Loras doesn't say anything foolish; that fool sometimes acts foolishly..." Olenna ented.

  "Grandmother!" Margaery spoke a bit louder than usual.

  "Haha, don't be like that. You know your brother... Anyway, let's have a good tea with our lovely guests," she said as a servant began to serve them.

  Back at the Tyrell garden, with a few more hours passing with casual versations, Renly started to approach Jon with more serious matters.

  "I insist, Arctig," Renly said to Jon. "e to my arrival ba. I even asked them to dey it until today after I talked to you. I guarantee you won't regret it and will be treated acc to your status, as you will be my special guest," he argued, maintaining a friendly expression.

  Jon sighed. The man was quite persistent, even though he had already deed the invitation because he didn't like those groups of nobles in the camp. Some had even tried to rob him or take advantage. But it would also be a bit rude to refuse the prince's invitation. He had also proven he could not be provoked so easily, having already killed a knight aen a royal guard.

  "All right, I will attend with my wife, my sister, and my ministers," Jon finally said. "But there is one dition..." Jon did not fail to mention.

  Renly, who was smiling and celebrating, looked at Jon and his st words with curiosity. "What would that be, Arctig?" He asked.

  "I want my sister to participate in the archery tour in a few days," Jon said, while all three Tyrells choked at this. After all, there were no women participating. There had been one in hand-to-hand bat, but none in archery, let alone a child. It seemed it would offend all the nobles.

  "That seems inappropriate, Arctig, not just for the partits but for a dy of Lady Stark's status..." Wils spoke.

  "That is my dition, and it is inappropriate only for those who lose to my sister..." Jon said with a smile.

  "But..." Wils was about to speak.

  "Lord Wils, is that possible?" Renly suddenly asked, causing Wils to frown at the question.

  "We make it happen, my prince..." Wils said.

  "Then it's decided!" Renly quickly decred.

  "Then I will be at the baonight," Jon decred calmly.

  Renly cpped his hands, happy. "That's great! I look forward to seeing you ter. I'm sure we'll have a lot to talk about," said the prin good humor.

  "Anyway, I must be going. After all, I have a few more things to do," said Jon, wanting to leave to have lunch with his men.

  Renly nodded. Despite it seeming a bit rude for Jon to leave like this, he was not offended by the Arctig's departure. After all, they had been talking for hours. "All right, as long as you show up at the bahat's fine," Renly said with his usual smile.

  Jon nodded as everyone began to rise from the table. He touched the prince's hand in a farewell gesture and said goodbye to all the other members, leaving the garden with his men.

  As he began to leave, his wife and Arya, seemingly having already guessed, appeared on the way. They theo leave, mounting their horses with their guards and passing through the gates.

  Renly returo the castle. "My prince, do you want to have lunch or visit the tour area ter?" Wils asked as they ehe castle.

  He calmly deed. "No, I will be going to my room. Bring my lunch there; I want to refle some things..." he said, and Wils respected that.

  Loras took him to his current quarters and they entered, closing the door, leaving only the two of them in the room.

  "Do you think I spoke too much?" Loras asked, as he had been embarrassed by Jon with his speech, although he still didn't fully uand his words.

  "Yes, you did," Renly admitted. "But that doesn't matter now. That man really is impressive..." He remembered Jon's speech. "He is a better king than my brother, and we only talked for a few hours." The prince admitted.

  "You will be a better king than him," Loras said suddenly.

  Renly looked at him with a smile. "Did you see his sword?"

  "Yes, and it should belong to you," Loras immediately responded.

  "Yes, I have the Targaryen lineage, so the sword should belong to my house. However, I 't just ask for it. After all, it would be fiscated and go directly to my nephew, if he has my blood..." Renly said as he y on the bed and looked at the ceiling.

  "What are you pnning, my prince?" Loras already suspected Renly nning something.

  "Well, I have an opportunity to get that sword without offending uest. Did you hear when he said there were no jousts in Artica, only strange horse races?" Renly ented, and Loras nodded.

  Renly tinued, "I will invite him to the tour joust."

  "But he has never been a knight, my prince. He doesn't belong to this realm," Loras said.

  "That's true, but it's nothing that the prince of Westeros 't achieve with a word or two," Renly said with a smile and looked at Loras. "I will need a knight to fight for me. Would you show your n my name?" He asked, wanting to challenge Jon to the joust to win the Valyrian steel sword, Darksister.

  "Of course, my king. I will easily defeat him for you," Loras said with determination.

  Meanwhile, there was a little bird on the window watg everything, while Jon smiled, returning to his camp. It seemed that tonight would be more iing than he had imagined.

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