𝓑𝓔𝓛𝓛𝓐𝓓𝓞𝓝𝓝𝓐, 𝑔𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓈 ²

𝙊𝙉𝙀, 𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭

ʻ 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶
𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦ʼ

RYLON BARATHEON finds himself watching his twin brother's betrothed more than the actual festivities of his brother and his nameday. The younger twin knows that it's wrong, but it seems he can't find it in himself to keep his eyes off her. Even if all it seems he's doing is innocently looking at her, Rylon knows the feelings he holds for the girl cause it to be anything but. Still, as Sandor Clegane, or as everyone calls him, The Hound, and another man duel, and every other person's eyes are on the fight before them, Rylon's gaze drifts back to Sansa, looking over the details of her face he's already memorized the look of.

"Well struck." Joffrey's mumbling voice brings Rylon back to the celebration, and he quickly averts his eyes from the young Stark girl before she can notice his prolonged staring. "Well struck, Dog," Joffrey repeats, louder than previously so he can be clearly heard by everyone else at the celebration. Rylon glances over at where the duel had just occurred, seeing that The Hound had won, though this is no surprise to Rylon considering the elder man's skill when it comes to battle. "Did you like that?" Joffrey turns his head to Sansa as The Hound removes his helmet from his head, Rylon's head turning to look at the girl as well, glad to have any excuse to look in her direction.

"It was well struck, Your Grace." Sansa looks at Joffrey, smiling almost sickeningly sweetly at her betrothed. However, perhaps Rylon only thinks that because of the jealousy that he holds within him towards his brother, though that isn't something the young Prince would ever admit to anyone of feeling, not even himself.

"I already said it was well-struck." Joffrey frowns at Sansa, whose smile turns into a more apologetic one than the almost loving one her face held before. Rylon watches sympathetically, desperately wishing to say something in defense of Sansa, though keeping his mouth shut, knowing it would likely only end badly for both himself and his twin brother's betrothed.

"Yes, Your Grace." Sansa nods apologetically, seeming afraid of Joffrey, though Rylon isn't sure if that's true or if he's just projecting his feelings onto the situation.

Rylon turns his head when Joffrey and Sansa do as to remain as inconspicuous as possible. He looks on at the scene before him, watching as two men drag the losing man of the duel away, leaving behind a trail of blood. When a boy walks over to clean the blood, Rylon finds himself unconsciously looking back at Sansa. When Sansa looks over her shoulder and makes eye contact with Rylon, the Prince snaps his head back forward, hoping to seem as unassuming as possible.

"Who's next?" Joffrey calls out his question, demanding an answer. Rylon leans back in his chair, hoping his heartbeat will slow back to normal sooner rather than later.