You never understood why your uncle is just so... grumpy.

Uncle Rhaegel is, well, special, uncle Aerys always reads, but uncle Maekar? He always looks as if just ate a lemon, and even when it is time to celebrate you rarely see Maekar Targaryen crack a smile, much less laugh or joke, so unlike your father Baelor. Even now!

There they are: your grandfather King Daeron at the head of the table, your father prince Baelor by his left hand, and your uncle prince Maekar by his right, and Aerys is there too, but you can't see Rhaegel.

'Thank Gods...' - Maekar thinks to himself about the absence of his 'special' brother, grinding his teeth in silence. The sharp eyes of the Summer Prince dart over the Throne Hall, where the celebration in honor of his nameday is becoming almost deafening: bards torturing their instruments, lords, knights and family all talking, laughing, roaring, and everyone is drinking.

"Hmm." The first sound prince Maekar made all eve.

Daeron, the Good King, of course aware of it, pats his son on the shoulder, as if telling him: 'loosen up, it is your day'; but in truth the King's youngest would much rather prefer something somewhere more quiet, in that regard he is a bit like Aerys... a bit.

Still, the celebration drags on, Maekar watches his children go on with Baelor's about something he doesn't even want to know, he feels the glances his father and brother give him, the 'stop acting like a sour lemon' glare from Baelor. Wine helps a bit, but Maekar never drinks a lot. Only his wife, the lovely Dyanna Dayne, brings the Summer Prince some comfort.

Until...

You approach the high table. All turn to you: your father, your grandsire, your uncle Aerys, your aunties Dyanna and Jena and, of course, your uncle Maekar. The last one quirks his eyebrow at you, seeing you hiding something behind your back and giving him a large grin, something you'd usually save for Baelor. What are you up to, hm?