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[color=#228B22][h1]Lord Talbert Tarly[/h1][/color]
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[i][u]Two weeks prior...[/u][/i]

A knock on the door. "You wanted to see me, Father?" His son's voice resonated from the entrance. 

"Enter." Talbert replied curtly, seated at his desk. He looked up from his ledgers, nodding to his son, Samwyle. "Sit. Drink." The lord of Horn Hill gestured to a chair placed in front of his desk, as well as a goblet of wine in front of the seat. 

Samwyle did so without delay, reaching for the cup as soon as he sat down. He met his sip of wine with appreciation and a raised eyebrow in question. "Arbor red? What's the occasion, Father?" What went unsaid was how his usual taste of wine in private was far more reserved, typically favoring more local vintages than the finest the Arbor had to offer. 

"For you." Talbert said simply, raising his own goblet in a brief toast before taking slow sips. "You've proven yourself as an able combatant, leader of men, and my heir. Were I to die now, I would hold no hesitation in leaving Heartsbane to you." Such praise from the man was rare. Which only served to have Samwyle bracing for the inevitable comedown. "As such, I've taken the liberty of finally arranging a wife for you. Gorlois Redwyne has agreed to have you be betrothed to his youngest daughter, Odette. I'm told she's the fairest of all his daughters, and his favorite. It's a great honor for you." He passed the letter in question that confirmed Lord Gorlois's approval for the match over to Samwyle. 

Samwyle stared at his father for a moment in mute silence, with Talbert inwardly waiting for him to get over his shock and get on with the matter. "Father, I..." He stared down at the letter he was given, reading it over for a few moments before looking it back up. "She's fifteen? That's younger than Mina." 

Talbert raised an eyebrow. "She is of age. Or would you rather I find you a child bride? Is that what you're saying?" He challenged, to his son's immediate denial. 

"Of course not!" 

"Then you should have no problems with the matter. Of course, your dalliances will come to an immediate end. I'll not have you dishonoring your wife-to-be, our pending alliances with the Redwynes, and our good name. I tolerated such when you were a bachelor and barely a man. Now that you've matured and have a betrothal, the time for these things is over." 

Samwyle looked as if he was going to protest, but thought better of it and nodded. "I...understand. Thank you for your lenience, Father." 

Talbert's expression softened in response, but only slightly. To anyone who didn't know him better, it would seem his stoic demeanor hadn't cracked at all. "I understand this is a sudden change, son. But you've proven yourself as a man. I wouldn't have begun making these arrangements for you had you been a disappointment. I did as much as I could to secure a good match for you as well. The girl is reportedly a beauty, and you'll be meeting her soon." Samwyle's head shot up at his father's next words. "You've heard of Prince Maekar's upcoming tourney at Summerhall? We'll be attending." 

"You despise these, though." Was Samwyle's only response. "What was it you said the last time I wanted to attend one? 'Wasteful pageantry that ill-prepared men for real battle'? Of course, I didn't understand until after I joined you on campaign." 

"It still is. But the Redwynes wish for you and Lady Odette to meet there. Get to know one another. It seems they're as intent for this to be a good match as I am. Which indicates that Lord Gorlois's glowing words of praise about his daughter may not be as empty as I fear. Mina will be coming with us as well. It's about time that a match be made for her, and there will be many lords in attendance. Your mother will remain behind to watch over Victor and manage the day-to-day affairs of Horn Hill." He took another sip of Arbor red, as if to marshal his thoughts. 

"Does this mean...?" Samwyle's voice carried hope in its tone, to which Talbert nodded. 

"Indeed. You'll compete in the lists. Quite frankly, you care more than I do of your performance in that mummer's farce. But both of us will enter the melee. We both know where your real strengths are, and there's no shame in such. Though I imagine you'll want to impress your bride-to-be, regardless." The ruler of Horn Hill rose from his seat, making his way over to his son and placing a hand on his shoulder. "You will do House Tarly proud. I know this." Samwyle smiled up at him as he finished his wine. "Now, be off with you. I imagine you've your own affairs to take care of before we leave in a few days."

As Samwyle left the solar, Talbert turned his attention to another letter he'd be reading before. This one marked with the seal of House Bracken. Daemon Blackfyre was to be the one to champion their aspirations and grievances, then. Very well. He'd have Maekar's tourney to take the bastard's measure. Talbert rolled the letter up and fed it into the flames of his hearth, unwilling to chance risk of discovery even from otherwise vague and benign words.