The throne room was converted into a great hall with long tables filled with an array of foods. I made my way to the High table where my cousin and Uncle were already waiting to greet the guests.
"You look beautiful, Cousin," I greeted her.
"As do you, Vis," She hugged me.
One by one Ser Harold announced the great houses as they entered. Unfortunately for everyone, House Lannister was the first to enter.
Lord Jason fixed me with a glare as he approached the table. Although, I suppose I did run away at the announcement of our betrothal. One I did not accept, mind you. I hid a laugh behind my wine goblet as Rhaenyra rolled her eyes. She too had fallen victim to Jason's unwanted advances.
"Congratulations, Your Grace. You have made a fine match for the Princess," He addressed the crown.
"Thank you, Lord Jason. I could think of no better man than Ser Laenor," Rhaenyra said politely with a hidden barb. Lord Jason had endured failed betrothals to not one but two Targaryen Princesses. That had to damage one's pride.
Lord Lannister chuckled awkwardly, "Well... if this is only the welcome feast, I admit, I cannot imagine what you might have planned for the wedding."
The King plastered on a fake smile, "Well, my daughter is the future Queen. I wanted this to be a wedding for the histories."
Jason looked around. "Where is the queen? I had hoped to pay my respects," He questioned skeptically.
"I understand the Queen is still readying herself for the celebrations," My Uncle assured.
"This is why men wage war... because women would never be ready for the battle in time," He chuckled self amused.
My hand tightened around a cutlery knife on the table before me. I truly considered driving it into his shoulder until Rhaenyra cut her eyes at me in disbelief of his audacity. I supposed it would be rather impolite to spill blood at my own cousin's wedding feast.
"Your presence is always such a pleasure, Lord Jason," She lied.
"Princess. Your Grace," He bowed dismissing himself making sure to fix me with one last glare.
The three of us shared a look of disgust as he walked away.
A man stepped forward and I vaguely heard him mention that he was from House Royce. The House of Daemon's late lady wife who had recently passed under mysterious circumstances. I decided I did not want to hear his allegations so I tuned him out, quickly growing bored with the feast.
Suddenly drums sounded off and the doors to the throne room were opened once again.
"Lord Corlys of House Velaryon. Lord of the Tides, Master of Driftmark. And his lady wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen. And their son and heir, Ser Laenor Velaryon, the future King consort," Ser Harold announced.
And there was House Velaryon in all their glory. Draped in navy blue and gold. The entire room stood in respect. I was impressed Laenor was able to walk in a straight line as much wine as we had drank that afternoon. Nonetheless he strode in the portrait of wealth and elegance.
As they approached my eyes never left the Lady of Driftmark. All of the great and minor houses had gathered for the wedding and none in the room could match her beauty.
Corlys and Rhaenys bowed to the King before presenting their son.
He walked up the steps where Rhaenyra waited for him.
"My betrothed," She welcomed him with a small smile.
"My betrothed," He returned with a kiss to her knuckles.
