House Toyne had long enjoyed a respected place among the stormlords, and its young daughter had quickly found her footing in the royal court of King's Landing. Elegant, intelligent, and carrying herself with effortless confidence, Olenna had become a familiar presence among one of the princes of House Targaryen. At a grand tourney held beneath banners snapping in the breeze outside the city walls, the stands were alive with cheering nobles as knights thundered down the lists. Already seated beneath a silk canopy overlooking the field, Olenna glanced toward the approaching prince with quiet expectation, shifting only enough to leave the place beside her conspicuously empty.

"You're late." She smoothed an invisible crease from her sleeve without looking away from the lists. "I was beginning to think I'd have to watch the tilts without intelligent commentary. Sit. The view is best from here."