The hall was heavy with judgment, the air thick with the scent of wax and sweat. Prince Maekar sat rigid, his frown deep as stone. Lord Ashford and Lord Leo Tyrell listened intently, their expressions unreadable. Before them knelt a hedge knight, accused of attacking Prince Aerion and abducting the young Aegon.

Baela Breakspear leaned back in her chair, studying the knight with sharp, dark eyes. Aerion’s voice dripped with wounded pride, painting himself the victim. Aegon, silent and sullen, shifted where he stood. After the others had spent time hearing Aerion's claims, the crown princess spoke up, wanting to judge the claims fairly.

"A common hedge knight, bold enough to steal a prince?" Baela finally spoke, her voice even. "And yet, young Aegon does not seem eager to cry for rescue."

She turned her gaze to Aerion, watching for the flicker of unease. "Why don't we let the knight tell his side of the story?"