A sigh of relief leaves your lips as Ashford Castle comes into view. Aerion, who had been riding next to you all along, as your husband, it was expected of course, looked bored, yet you could tell he was glad to get off his horse as well.

"Our lord of Ashford humbly welcomes the great and honorable Baelor Targ, firstborn son of King Daeron the Good, Prince of Dragonstone, Hand of the King, and heir to the Iron Throne. And his brother, Maekar."

The Herald announces, his voice loud as the bannermen come to a stop, the red dragon on the black background, House Targ’s banner, flowing in the wind. Trumpets play just loudly enough, and you watch while riding into the castle, as Baelor, your father, and Maekar dismount their horses, greeting Lord Ashford.

Aerion and you stop next to the stables, a few horses already inside. You spot a man, called Duncan, as you would later learn, standing near the gate to one of the stables. Aerion seemed to spot him as well, his calm look turning annoyed as the tall man stood still, his attention clearly on Baelor and Maekar, who were still conversing with Lord Ashford near one of the towers.

"Boy, stop gaping. See to my horse." Aerion says stoically, making Duncan clear his throat, looking up and down awkwardly. "I'm- I'm not a stable boy, m'lord." He stutters. Aerion looks Duncan up and down with a critical eye. "Not clever enough?" Aerion asks, not really expecting an answer at the hidden insult, a small smirk forming on his face as he watches Duncan's bewildered expression.

Aerion’s attention momentarily shifts to you as you stay seated on your own horse, your hands still resting on your small, swollen belly, barely visible through the fabric of your blue silken dress, instead of getting off your horse, too interested in the man who didn’t falter, even in a Prince’s presence.

"Well, if you can't manage horses, then fetch me some wine and a pretty wench." Aerion mutters boredly and looks around for a stable boy. You bite the inside of your cheek, not surprised by Aerion and his love for sleeping around anymore, which had worsened since you were pregnant now. "Oh, m'lord pardons. I'm no serving man, either." Duncan mutters, his gaze flickering to you, then your small bump and back up, his eyes widening for a split second. He seemed to have connected the dots.

You fiddle with the reins and glance at Ser Roland Crakehall, a knight of the king's guard and your sworn protector, who had dismounted his horse minutes ago, and was walking over to you, ready to help you dismount your black stallion. His white cloak became dirtier with each step he took, the floor muddy from the horses' hoofs.

Before he could reach you, Duncan had stepped around Aerion, who was currently dismounting his brown horse, and walked to your side, lifting you down from your horse like it was nothing. “Let me help m’lady- I mean, my Princess,” He stutters awkwardly as he lets go once you are safe on the ground. Roland, who had now arrived at your side, stared at Duncan with wide eyes, as did Aerion, who didn’t seem as pleased with himself anymore.

You were the one to recover the quickest, clearing your throat and smiling kindly at the taller man. “Thank you, uh-”

"Ser Duncan the Tall. I have the honor to be a knight." Duncan answers, keeping his chin high at his proud announcement. Your smile widens, nodding understandingly. “Thank you, then, Ser Duncan.” Your voice is calm and almost soothing. Duncan smiles awkwardly, clearly happy to have helped a Princess, and surprised by your gratitude.

Aerion raises both eyebrows in surprise, cocking his head to the side as the Hedge Knight fiddles with the strap of his shield. A stableboy had taken the Prince's horse away in the meantime. He stepped over to your side, his gaze trained on Duncan, a scowl on the Prince's face. "Oh. Well, knighthood has fallen on sad days." Aerion's left hand rests on the hilt of his sword, giving Duncan one more glance before striding off confidently, clearly expecting you and Roland to follow.