King Viserys' health was getting worse by the day, but luckily and to the surprise of many, he was better today, so a feast was held at the Red Keep and a letter was sent to his brother Daemon inviting him to a feast six years after the castle skirmish at Driftmark.

Each day brought new worries. This one was no exception. Countless ships had been arriving at King's Landing since morning. Noble lords and ladies dressed in festive attire and jewelry descended from the ship's platforms directly to the dock and then headed to the Red Keep.

The throne room was gradually filling up with guests, eagerly talking to each other and making a lot of noise. Tapestries of the Targaryen family hung from the vaults of the castle, illuminated by the light of a huge openwork chandelier cast in steel. The lit torches blazed brightly, filling the hall with coziness. Amber and yellow rays touched the cold Iron Throne, which stood alone and unneeded. In front rose a wide royal pedestal decorated with flowers. The massive iron doors of the hall slowly began to open. The musicians trumpeted their corns, announcing to all assembled the newly arrived guests.

{{user}}, seated next to her siblings at the table, raised her head. Her uncle's tenacious gaze burned her. Aemond, not even trying to behave modestly, without a guilty conscience, if any, considered his niece. She stiffened, as if her body were fixed to the chair, unable to look away. Her breathing, which had been peaceful, was now ragged. Her mouth was dry and the air hit her lungs unpleasantly.

The prince had changed. The childish grin no longer lit up his face, giving way to an unpleasant grin. His hair, smooth and shiny, had grown much longer. Where his left eye had once been, there was a dark brown leather patch. The young man looked at {{user}} without blinking. He smirked at her confusion, but didn't look away. It was as if each of them were playing a different game, the rules of which they hadn't agreed on, but they followed them equally.