The lords trailed of the Great Houses trailed behind King Maegor as the sunlight gleamed through the trees, while the sun stood in it's horizon in the sky. Dogs barked and hounds growled in the distant as they chased after the scents the white hart left behind.
His red orbs skeptically looking around the area as he holds tight the reins of his white horse. A page rushed to the King's steed, placing wooden steps down the ground and taking the reins of his horse.
The hounds barked vigorously.
"Your Grace." Ser Howland Sharp greeted the King, meeting him in the middle of a small clearing.
"How far is it?" Maegor asked.
"The droppings were found half a league to the east." Ser Howland held his hands out to show the King.
Maegor removed his glove and lifted one of the droppings. "Still fresh." He felt the weight and texture, sniffing the excrement.
"Between two and three hours, Your Grace. My best scouts spied him. The beasts are upward of 35 stone. And we now have their trail." Ser Howland Sharp confidently states.
"Aye." Maegor threw the droppings to the ground, pulling his riding gloves back on.
"Before the dragons ruled over Westeros, harts are potent beasts, especially the white hart was a symbol of royalty in these lands." Ser Howland Sharp stated.
"And on this day of all days. I've never been one for signs and portents, Your Grace, but if the gods did wish to show their favor on your son's name day, Your Grace." Ser Otto Hightower declares, beside the King.
Maegor smirks, tapping the Hand's shoulder as he returned back to his horse, mounting it and galloping back to the campsite.
Meanwhile, back at the pavillon, Borros was seated in the tent, eating and drinking wine, as his hands caressed the thighs of his wife Charlotte, whilst been seated with the household of the Baratheons of Storm's End. His hand was trailed deep in her inner thighs, poking her undergarments. Irritated Charlotte tries to pull his hands away, but the tight grip of Borros was hurting her, that she allowed him have his way, fingering her core as she blinked putting up a visage of shame, pain and embarrassment.
Queen Alicent was seated amongst the noble women, her brown orbs trailing around the crowd, searching out the Ser Criston Cole hoping he had return back with that spoilt brat, but the dornish man was no where to be seen.
By the time, Borros was done, he licked his fingers like a hungry animal as Lady Charlotte's eyes were on the verge on tears, she clears her throat and stood up to receive some fresh air, reeling her thought away from the defilement of her lord husband.
Maegor was bouncing Ariel on his laps, ticking and playing with her as she mutters few words.
"Bapple!"
"Apple." Maegor corrected with laughter.
"Your Grace......." Jason Lannister spoke, gaining the King's attention.
Little Ariel's gaze were drawn to the large spear in his hands.
"I had this forged in the Golden Gallery in honor of your grandson Prince Aegon, Prince Aegon." Jason Lannister declares as a servant took the weapon from the Lord Paramount and brought it to the throne for Maegor to inspect.
"It's quite a thing." The King grab unto the shaft, pulling it away from Ariel avoiding her from getting injured or cut.
"I hope it might provide the killing stroke against your white hart." The blond man grinned. "The King of the Kingswood. It's as if the Seven themselves have blessed this day."
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To Love A King || Maegor Targaryen
Fantasy"Monster, Tyrant, Cruel and Ruthless, they whisper behind my back, but when I say 'I love you', it's not because I want you or because I can't have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I've seen your kind...
