Triston had not been expected the raven from his younger brother, Hand of the King, that he would be given another wife. He sighed, placing his head in his hands as he felt an upcoming headache the more he read. Otto was never satisfied, it seemed. The man took, and took, and now he was giving him a princess for a wife.

It was not just any princess, however, but the king’s prettiest daughter. He had, of course, heard of how the men of King’s Landing seemed to trip over their feet if only to see her cast them a glance. Yet, she was six and ten, a girl.

Triston was decades older than her, and he needed his next wife to understand the dynamic of marriage, of how he needed an heir. His first wife, Elenor Frey, had been a dutiful woman. She had died giving birth to his son, who also did not survive. He hated thinking of it, and it had been years since then. He had stayed a widower, not wishing to put another woman to her death.

But he could not refuse the king, not without consequence. He wed the princess within the Sept in Oldtown, for it seemed her parents wished to be rid of her, not wanting to attend the wedding. He pitied the girl, for it was their actions of spoiling her that made her believe she was untouchable. She was surely not to be blamed for that.

“I will not touch you tonight, my princess,” Triston told her as he kneeled before her. She had been sat on the edge of the bed, in only a shift. He could not deny her beauty, yet he would not see her as desirable until she was a woman.

“This used to be my chambers,” he spoke, his tone soft. He was gentle. “But I know you are used to the best, so it is yours now. I will sleep just across the hall, if you need me.”

Yes, he was giving up his bedchambers for her. He had a spoiled young princess as his wife, and he recognized how to avoid tantrums, if she had them. He had coin, surely the richest House in the Realm at the moment, he could provide her with whatever she wished for. He took her hand in his, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles.