"How? Can't I like her? Lady Nymeria is so beautiful and charming—don't you like her too?" Margery's eyes sparkled in the dim light, like stars in the night sky.
William felt a twinge of guilt, but he dared not look away, his gaze firm. "In my heart, you are the most enchanting, Margery."
Margery's frown gradually softened, a hint of shyness appearing on her face.
"Time is precious—why don't we start learning magic?" William said, taking one of her hands.
Margery's eyes shifted thoughtfully, and after a moment, she revealed a radiant smile. "Alright!"
William exhaled in relief, feeling the skin of her hand smooth and delicate, soft as if without bones, making it hard for him to concentrate.
Margery waited a moment, but the sensation of entering the spiritual world didn't come. Seeing this obviously distracted man before her, she couldn't help but feel both annoyed and amused. "William!"
William snapped back to attention. "I—I was thinking about whether I should explain some magic theory to you."
"I don't need to forge chain links," Margery said with a small smile, a hint of pride in her eyes.
"Indeed!" William, feeling as if pardoned, quickly focused his magic, and in a haze, entered the marvelous spiritual world together with Margery.
It was the third time. Margery was no longer surprised by the feeling, yet she still enjoyed it—mentally, the two of them seemed fused as one, making her feel complete, no longer lost or uncertain.
At this time, she didn't need to carefully hide herself or guess at others. She could experience his feelings, knowing they were real, and she knew he could experience hers, also real. She could fully relax, unrestrained.
Their first exercise was to maintain freedom of movement while spiritually linked. Otherwise, each time they held hands and gazed at each other, it felt unnatural—not just to others, but to themselves.
It was somewhat like drawing a circle with one hand and a square with the other—neither particularly difficult nor particularly easy. By the next day, they could walk hand in hand while maintaining the spiritual link. In this state, the degree of mental fusion was much lower; they could no longer sense each other's thoughts but could still transfer magic.
Afterwards, every night they walked hand in hand around the camp. William acted as a battery, providing magic to Margery, while she repeatedly practiced using magic, memorizing the feeling. Observant onlookers would notice that in places where the procession temporarily camped, plants grew especially lush, and flowers often bloomed early.
Practice makes perfect. After a few days, as soon as they held hands, they instantly understood each other's intentions. When Margery used "growth" on plants, she no longer needed prolonged focus; she could quickly establish a connection.
They also discovered they could control the growth process of plants, especially vines, which responded as if extensions of their own limbs—useful for disrupting enemies or protecting themselves, with a wide range of applications.
Considering natural limitations, William devised a method: carry thorn seeds, scatter them near enemies during battle, then use magic to make the thorns grow around the target, leaving them both agonized and trapped.
He named this technique "Thorn Art."
Additionally, he realized Margery's healing magic differed from his own, as it continued to act on the target over time. He named it "Rejuvenation Art."
Then a thought suddenly struck him: If I apply a game class system, then I'm a Paladin, and little Rose is a Druid!
Although Margery's magic had wide applications and considerable combat potential once developed, William realized her magic had an even more important strategic significance.
If the long summer is followed by a harsh winter, then as temperatures drop, crops will fail and food will inevitably become scarce. But Margery's "Growth" spell can make seeds mature in a very short time. In a world as real and cruel as ice and fire, baking bread is the true overpowered trick.
By the third day, Margery could vaguely sense fluctuations in magic. William judged that her magical talent was quite high. The problem was that her innate magic was still too weak; without William supplying magic, she couldn't use a single spell, let alone engage in repeated, intensive practice.
Although they tried to avoid others while practicing, the temporary campsites offered no real privacy. With so many eyes around, it wasn't long before everyone knew that this somewhat flirtatious pair walked under the moon each night—romantic and pure.
On the fourth day after departing Highgarden, the massive wedding procession arrived at New Barrel as scheduled.
Because the family emblem was a green apple on a gold background, the Fossoway family of New Barrel was usually called the Green Apple. In contrast, the Fossoires of the Cider Hall were called the Red Apple. The Green Apple branch was not very old; its founder, Ser Raymun Fossoway, had split from the Red Apple less than a century ago. Yet it had already grown as prosperous as the main line.
Although Garlan's bride, Lady Leonette, belonged to a cadet branch of the Green Apple family, this procession was impressive. The viscount of New Barrel, Ser Jon Fossoway, personally hosted a banquet for the guests. The Lord of Cider Hall, Ser Brian Fossoway, also arrived with his family. Members from both Apple families would travel together to Highgarden for the wedding.
The procession rested in New Barrel for two days. Though officially a rest, each day was filled with singing, drinking, and feasting—no easier than the journey itself.
During this time, an incident occurred. Seeing William constantly holding Margery's hand, Ser Edwyd, the younger brother of Lord Brian, rashly challenged the legendary magic knight who had once slain the giant Roland in single combat. His demand: if he lost, he would no longer bother Highgarden's rose, Lady Margery.
Some knights who knew about the Battle of Ten-Mile Town, like Ser Osmund Klein, who led the guard again, thought the duel was unfair and dishonorable, attempting private mediation. William was indifferent, but Edwyd, proud of his reputation, pressed aggressively. Finally, under Osmond's insistence, they agreed that the duel would end at the first blood, sparing life.
The duel was set for the afternoon at New Barrel's training grounds. Not long before it began, the entire city emptied, men and women, young and old, spilling into the streets. Nobles, knights, soldiers, and servants alike crowded the training ground, eager to witness the magic knight's prowess.
Unfortunately, they saw nothing.
William, wanting to test his new magic, activated "Wrath of Justice" at the very start of the duel. He didn't even draw his sword—he simply charged and shoulder-butted his opponent. With a dull thud, the unfortunate Ser Edwyd was sent flying several meters, landing motionless. His fate—unknown.
William nodded, extremely satisfied with the new magic's effect.
The battle was over! Most of the spectators were bewildered, unable to understand what had happened. A few, realizing its significance, were secretly shocked—was this even possible for a mortal?
A highly anticipated duel ended without cheers or awe. Only when the Maesters began emergency treatment on the defeated did the training ground erupt with applause and cheering.
From that moment, no one doubted the truth of the Ten-Mile Town legend, and the attitude of nobles toward William did a complete 180 degrees.
Ser Edwyd, severely injured, had to return home to recover. But Lord Brian bore no grudge and even sought out William to apologize for his brother's recklessness and rudeness.
Other young nobles and knights began deliberately befriending William, greatly increasing the time he had to spend on social obligations. Though he remained polite and charming with everyone, he felt frustrated. He already had little time to practice magic with Margery, and now even less.
Another day later, an even larger procession departed New Barrel for Highgarden. Nobles, their servants, and accompanying cavalry totaled a thousand riders. Flags filled the sky, the force overwhelming, and William could not help but admire the strength of the Reach.
"Garlan is only the second son, yet even his wedding has such a grand display. I dare not imagine when Willas marries… no wonder whoever becomes king, the queen must be the little rose. Strong and mighty—truly worthy of a ruler!"
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