Honey and Blood

Princess Daella's Wedding Feast

The armor was heavy and he was sweating while Connor helped him on the horse. The realization of what he was doing was finally hitting him and to be truthful he was terrified that he might be caught. It was terrifying but oddly enough it was very exhilarating, everybody bowed when he passed through the crowd in Connor's armor. He felt like a true knight and not the bastard son of a whore. He waited where he was instructed and got a glimpse of the tourney grounds.

It was well decorated. Banner hang from every side and and array of noble man and woman sat in the gallery looking on the jousting tilts. They were all dressed in very fine clothes, each of them with a goblet in hand or eating grapes. Daerion saw how various knights were thrown out of their horses and even one of the contestants had gotten a piece of spear through the eye. It was brutal and violent but Daerion wasn't nervous or scared.

In fact it was something else that scared him. In the middle of the royal party amongst the noble men in a special box seat sat the royal family. In a fine pink silk dress was the bride, a sad looking princess who seemed stressed to be in front of so many people and next to him was her new husband who was so old he already had one foot in the grave. Princess Daella and her new husband, Rodrick Arryn. Around her where her numerous brothers and sisters, the spring princes Aemon, Baelon, his sister-wife Alyssa, the septa Maegelle, the master Vagon, the young princesses Seara and Viserra. All of them baring the Targeryan silver hair and purple eyes. Sitting behind all of them, high on their thrones were the King and Queen. They looked like great terrible stone statues of silver hair and purple gaze. The last time he had seen the Good Queen Alysanne was when he was young, she was pregnant at that time. Now next to her was a cradle, where her new born babe, Gael, probably was. Daerion had never seen King Jaehereys, he looked cold and distant with his beard and crown. Terrifying even but Daerion had to admit that he looked like him. There was no doubt that he was the king's son.

It made Daerion's stomach sink deeply. He was watching his whole family from far away, like a stranger looking through a window or someone looking into a painting. He wondered if his father knew of his existence, would he notice his own seed if he saw it on the battling field? Would the Queen notice him as well? The squires cleared the dead body of the last jouster and Daerion got ready for his turn. He could feel the hand holding the spear trembling. He had to get it under control or he would

"-Lord Connor Beesbury. - The announcer said with a loud voice after tooting a horn. - Against Ser Gawin Redwyne."

Daerion guided the horse onto the his side of the title and all of the eyes of the courtier and the royal family fell on him. The King was looking at him directly but he had no true idea at who he was looking at. His opponent appeared on the other side of the tilt, holding his lance very firmly unlike him. Daerion pointed his lance directly at him, his hand shaking ever so slightly. It was the first time that he jousted against another human being and not a sack of potatoes.

He carefully pointed the lance at him and waiting until the signal to start. His could feel his heat bump in his chest, his hands were slik with sweat and the hand on the reign was shaking. He closed his eyes and breath it deeply. The horn resounded and Daerion kicked the horse. The horse started galloping  and Daerion held on to that lance for dear life. The horses ran and he could hear the lance's clashed and break but nothing hit Daerion. He ran until the end of the tilt and opened his eyes. He was shocked. His opponent laid on the floor, unhorsed and unharmed. The audience roared in glee and Daerion's chest finally relax.

It felt unnatural but good. He waved at the roaring crowd. He unhorsed all of his opponents that day and people cheered every time he did so. He liked the way the crowd cheered every time he pranced into the tilt with his horse. Daerion was enjoying it, sure they called him Connor Beesbury every single time he walked into the tilt but he didn't care. He liked the glory. He won all of his matches and even managed to unhorse he final opponent. At the end one of the squires brought him a little crown of flowers, it was poorly made.

"-What should I do? - Daerion asked him. He was unaware of jousting costumes.

-You should give it to the fairest of the nobles. - The Squire explained."

The fairest. If he had to give it to the fairest he might have given it to one of the men in the bleachers, the one with the blue doublet. He hadn't stopped taking peeks at him during all the jousts. Or the horse boy with the prettiest golden locks he had ever seen, who brushed his horse's hair and some times wandered too close to his legs as he did it. Yes, if he could have given it to any of them but that would have been unacceptable.

He looked around and spotted Connor himself, hidden under the bleachers, in a cloak with a little goblet of wine in his hand looking at him. He was looking at him directly and Daerion felt nervous again.

So he rode to the royal box and with crown of flowers at the end of his spear and without a word he handed the crown of flower to the bride. Princess Daella grabbed the flower crown with silence and with reddened cheeks. From his corner eye he could see the King looking at him directly, his eyes cold and ungiving. When he rode back in silence,  he saw that Connor wasn't in the hiding spot anymore. He hadn't said a single word at all and nobody had guessed that it wasn't Connor Beesbury participating in the joust.

Daerion smiled proudly to himself. t was undeniable, he had tasted a little bit of fame and love. He wanted more now.