Gavin had locked himself in his study for the better part of the day in contemplation. He had been summoned to Grimm Hall. In two days he had to have come to a decision as to weather on not he would accept the lordship. "Why would the High Lord of Highgarden choose a merchant to be the next Lord of The Shield Islands... it just doesn't make sense." Gavin scratched aimlessly at the parchment with a dry quill. Doesn't Osmund know he has a buisness to run? What is the play here? . . . I have a buisness to run . . .

"That must be it!" Gavin whispered to himself excitedly, suddenly taken aback by how obvious it was. "Someone on Osmund's council must know how much coin I bring to The Reach and is expecting me to turn The Islands into a profitable trade hub for Highgarden."

The door to the Blint study quietly clicked shut. "What is on your mind today love? You've been locked in this room all day and its almost time to sup." Katrina questioned as she shut the ornate wooden door. "So Rivin didn't tell you about the raven?" "Oh? From whom?" She sat across from her husband as she looked over the cluttered desk. Parchment and empty ink pots littered the dilapidated antique. "High Lord Osmund Tyrell wishes to make me Lord of The Shield Islands." Standing as he explained the letter to his wife. "Whimsy or profit?" Katrina questions with a smirk. "I think i've figured out his play and i've a feeling that there is profit here for the lot of us." He grins as he kisses his wife on the cheek. "We will have Rivin make plans to sail for Grimm Island on the marrow, but for now we sup." Gavin gladly followed her playful smirk to the feasting hall as she asked Rivin their steward to pour them both a glass of wine.