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Highest point. Something that should still take a little while when you look out the window and up to the sky.
Quietly you opened the door when the moon had reached its highest point; you looked right and left down the corridor; you listened for a moment and hurried quickly down the corridor and the stairs to disappear through a back door. If you were lucky, you were neither heard nor seen. You may not have been a prisoner and were allowed to move freely, but you were supposed to let them know when you left and, more importantly, where you were going. Now, at this time of day, there would be too many questions asked that you didn't feel like answering, nor would anyone care. A lady has no business on the streets at this hour, you could hear Roran say, as he merely had to listen to your father's instructions.
Hard to believe, but the streets of King's Landing were busy places even at night. Not like during the day, yet some people, more than one would assume, were to be found. Perhaps advantageous, as Keynna would possibly not be noticed or someone would ask questions why she was on the road at the current time.
"There's been quite a bit of activity, as I could see," you began as you saw the white-haired man sitting on a rock as you approached, looking out at the bay, lost in thought, and thanks to your words, turning to the side and looking at you, "Shouldn't it be 'highest hour' and not, 'highest point'? And what does 'Little Lion' actually mean?"
"To you too, good evening, Lady Lannister," Daemon was heard instead, paying no attention to your questions and stepping down from his stone to meet you, "My Prince, it is good to see you after all this time. How are you?"
"My prince....," you replied sugary-sweetly and made a little curtsy, which made Deamon nod knowingly, for the underlying mockery in your voice, was unmistakable, ".... I haven't missed you particularly."
"I have missed you all the more," as Daemon said this, the Targaryen took your hands and a smile tugged at his lips, "Your visit will hardly be due to the tournament my brother is hosting for me. To what do I owe the honor of your visit?"
"The hope of finding a husband," Daemon's smile was returned by you as your gaze went down to your hands as the king's brother had begun to play with them, "How are you?"
"Fine," but you didn't quite believe it because there was something in the prince's demeanor that didn't match his words, "I'm sure you shouldn't have any trouble finding a husband. Before the tournament is over, you will have found one."
"I don't think so, besides, no woman is dependent on a man," you shook your head and looked up at Daemon, "How about it, is the prince participating in the tournament, or would you rather watch the spectacle?"
Silly question. Of course, Daemon Targaryen himself was participating in the tournament.
