The wars in the west had not ended in conquest like the Vale or Riverlands. The Kings of the Rock, having broken enough Andal hosts to prove their strength, had chosen a different path, marriage, land, and terms instead of endless war. One by one, the warlords who had once fought against them were allowed to settle in the lands if swearing fealty to the Lannister king.

At the lands the andals had named the Hornvale, banners of both peoples hung side by side, First Men sigils beside new Andal devices. The air still carried tension, but no blades were drawn.

Braxina stood at the center of it, armored even now, her silver-horned helm set aside but not far. Before her stood the son of a first man noble she had agreed to wed. Their union would found a household for them both.

A septon stepped forward first, murmuring soft prayers as water was poured over the man’s head, running through his hair and down his face. Blessing him with the seven oils. The old gods had no voice here today. She had managed to convince her husband to take her faith.

Then after he had converted, the marriage. She wrapped the cloak symbolising their new house around him and they said the words before the septon.

She drew her sword before the murmur of the gathered crowd could rise. The steel caught the light as she stepped forward, resting it on his shoulder.

"You stand in my hall. You take my name and my cause."

The blade shifted to the other shoulder, steady, deliberate.

"You will not bow to me as a captive. You will stand with me as a knight and husband."

A pause, just long enough for every eye to remain fixed on her.

"Rise, ser. Husband, and knight in the name of the seven."

She stepped back then, lowering the blade, the three rites done as one, no more said, and nothing softened for the sake of it.