Blood Upon The Snow ||| Cregan Stark

twenty-five

Jacaera could see the guests who were invited to watch the wedding arrive through the windows as she was dressed in the Guest House. The Great Hall could fit up to 500 people. Jacaera wondered if that many had truly been invited. She hoped not.

She was much more nervous about that second ceremony. Many more spectators, chances for things to go wrong. Everyone would be watching to see if Jacaera was the person they'd imagined her to be.

The white of her dress almost matched her silver hair. Jacaera tried to breathe deeply as the ladies swathed her in furs and pulled things tight. They tried to fix her hair so it fell just perfectly over the mound of fur on her shoulders.

Her maiden's cloak was amusing. Half Targaryen and half Velaryon. Jacaera was reminded that she would become part of a third house. Targaryen, Velaryon, and Stark.

Officially three. Technically four.

Then there was the jewelry; much had been brought with her from home. A silver choker that was in the shape of a dragon curled around her neck.

Silver earrings also dangled from her ears, small rubies as a pop of colour. It occurred to Jacaera that she hadn't ever remembered having her ears pierced. Poor baby Jacaera.

Rings were hidden underneath Jacaera's gloves. They'd only be seen at dinner.

When she was fully dressed, the ladies flurried around her to make sure everything was absolutely perfect. Jacaera assured them it was fine, receiving their endless praise with grace.

Jace knocked on the door and peeked his head into the room when it was time. "Are you ready?" He asked, watching as the ladies bowed and backed away from Jacaera.

Jacaera met him halfway and nodded. Excitement, sure. But a little sadness. Rhaenyra wasn't there to witness it. Neither was Jacaera's father. Either of them.

He could see that in her. Jace gently set his hands on her shoulders. "You look beautiful, sister. Lord Cregan must praise the gods you are to be his wife."

She shook her head dismissively. "Thank you, brother."

Together, they left the guest house and traversed the grounds to get to the gate of the Godswood. Despite what childish impulses resided in Jace, he did feel a swell of pride. As a brother, this was his duty. Especially since their father was dead.

At the gate, Jace paused with Jacaera. She could hear muttering even from beyond the gate. Many people were going to watch. The girl took a deep breath, fixed her grip on her brother's arm, and gave him a nod.

He held her tight as they entered the godswood. And the moment they were seen by the spectators, the muttering stopped. Jacaera didn't look at all the people as she walked forward; her eyes stayed forward.

There was a creeping feeling that she was going to be sick. It shouldn't have been that terrifying. But all of those people were unfamiliar and would watch her marry.

Many of them felt the urge to bow as Jacaera passed. It wasn't necessary, she wasn't a Queen. But they were unsure of the rules; they didn't want to anger her.

The Godswood was large. Jacaera remembered that as she walked with Jace. There was a path between the guests that lead them, light shining through the canopy of trees above them.