“I understand that Highgarden is under your control,” she said as soon as she heard the footsteps echo toward her, though she did not lift her gaze. No, that was reserved for the finishing touches of the drawing of her sigil, of that of what was once a Great House. Once was, but not anymore. “I am grateful that House Lannister did not lay claim to my family home, and indeed I am.” That was a definite truth, one close to her heart. If Cersei Lannister had dared to step a foot into her home... A deep breath released as she laid her drawing to rest, finishing as she rose to her feet and finally faced that of the Dragan Queen, of Daenerys Targaryen herself. Clutching the parchment, she held it up for the other to see. “My Grandmother had such disdain for our sigil and House words. She would call them dull and yet, the last thing I gave her was a drawing just like this... I would like to think she kept it, in the end... Perhaps it gave her comfort, I do not know. I can only hope.” Laying it to rest on the table once more, she approached the other closer, hands clasped in front of her. “I could never dream of a world without the Lady Olenna Tyrell, and yet, here we are. How empty it feels. And how sorrowful I feel every day since I heard of her death...that I could not see her one last time.” Her voice laced with iron steel to it, choking down emotions that she would not let free. “It is quite sad, isn’t it? And yet, what can we do?”