Author's Notes: Welcome back, everyone, to the story! I am so sorry for having to take a full month, but I am now recovered from my burnout and feel more able to tackle the story! Thank you all so much for your patience and support. I hope you continue to enjoy the story!

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Chapter 98

Brienne VIII

She was going to curse the day she ever met Jaime Lannister.

Her heart pounded in her ribs and she clenched her fists to hide their trembling. Despite the cool temperatures of the morning, sweat was already beading in her hairline and sliding down her face. There was a lump in her throat that would not budge and she only gave a weak smile to her father as the servants laid their breakfast down in front of them. Her father seemed to understand her consternation and he smiled warmly at her.

"This will be a day to remember," he said.

I'd rather forget it, she thought. As a warrior, each day was to be treasured and yet she had never wanted to skip a day more.

It had seemed all too simple back in Jaime Lannister's solar when he'd asked her to marry him. They had been alone, with only his squire and the guards at the door to hear his proposal and her answer. She loved him. It made her flush with joy to know that she could look forward to spending the rest of her days with that infuriating and amazing swordsman.

As the sole heir to a minor house, she knew she would have to marry to continue her lineage, for her father's sake if not for hers. After three failed betrothals, she had wondered if this were to be the end of her house after all. She had hoped not, but she had decided that she would only marry once she found a man who wanted to and would respect her desires to be a warrior. She should've known that Jaime Lannister was too good to be true.

As the woman of a minor house, her wedding would always have been a small affair. But now she was to marry Jaime Lannister, the Lord of Casterly Rock, the wealthiest—and cockiest—man in Westeros. There was nothing small about that. The king and his future queen, all of the lord paramounts, save Prince Doran Martell and Lord Greyjoy, and several dozen minor houses were to be present. Hundreds of people were set to watch her marry that day and the prospect was terrifying.

She had long thought fear had left her. Because she was a warrior, she had come to accept an early death as a possibility in her life. Yet this was a fear that she had never braced herself for. The slow torture of her dress fitting had been but a prelude. Now she was forced to dress up and marry before all of the Seven Kingdoms. She had never thought herself a coward, but nothing felt more enticing than going into hiding back on Tarth.

Brienne thought she could at least treasure a quiet and uninterrupted breakfast with her father, but no sooner had the dishes been cleared away then there was a knock on his door. Upon opening it, Lord Alexandratos and Lady Delphine smiled happily up at them. Lady Delphine was already dressed in a gown with shades of emerald green. Beads and gold trim decorated the dress. It looked unlike any other gown in Westeros, so Brienne assumed it was one that came with her from across the sea.

"Good morning, my lady. We came to wish you good fortune in your marriage and present this gift. Unfortunately, I have not yet finished it, but I hope you will enjoy it." She unfolded the bundle and allowed the length of it to trail. It was a tapestry At the top were the sun and moon of Tarth and beneath it were the half-finished remnants of the Lannister Lion against a backdrop of a deep blue.

"It's beautiful," Brienne whispered. She turned abruptly at the watering of her eyes and blinked back her tears. What is wrong with me?! She berated herself, but it filled her belly with warmth that she would have a little piece of Tarth with her in Casterly Rock.

The light of the day seemed to dim when she realized that she was unlikely to ever be in Tarth again. She hoped that perhaps she could persuade Jaime to visit, but Casterly Rock was on the west coast and Tarth was in the middle of the Narrow Sea. An entire continent separated the two. She knew most ladies never saw their place of birth again once married and it filled her heart with sorrow that she may never again walk on Tarth's white-sand beaches or swim in its sapphire-blue waters.

"My lady, I will return in half an hour to help you get ready for the ceremony," Lady Delphine said.

"Th-thank you," Brienne replied.

Once the door was closed, her father took her hands. "Are you well, my dear?"

"I think so," she grunted quickly, but her face was downcast.

Her father gently lifted her chin so that she had to stare into his eyes. "You will be beautiful. The day will be everything you ever dreamed."

"But I never dreamed of a wedding. Not-not like other ladies, anyway," Brienne mumbled.

"Then it will be everything you ever hoped for. I know of your struggles, my dear, but you must not let that spoil your day. I know you love him and you will be happy. Focus on that, on him. You don't have to see anyone else."

"Yuh-yes, father," Brienne said. She bid her farewells and retreated to her room. Lady Delphine, Lady Margaery, and Lady Sansa all found her staring up into the ceiling.

She was surprised to find her mood lifting as the ladies bustled around her all smiles and giggles. It eased her mind to know that they were not laughing at her, but were simply caught up in the excitement of the day.

"Oh, I've been looking forward to seeing your dress, Lady Brienne," Margaery said, uncharacteristically bouncing on her toes.

"Have you looked at it yet?" Delphine asked.

"Uh … no, not yet."

Lady Delphine frowned for a moment but covered it with a smile. "If there are any adjustments needed, we can make them, but the seamstress was thorough in her measurements."

Brienne was disgruntled once more to strip naked in front of the other ladies, but they paid her ungainly body little mind as they helped her into her undergarments and dress. Once the trousers were pulled into place, the ladies all stepped back to take in the full view. Their mouths were wide and she saw excitement in their eyes. Delphine gestured towards the mirror.

"Take a look, my lady."

Brienne took a breath and slowly lifted her gaze to the mirror. The trousers and bodice were the color of her eyes, however a darker, shimmering blue fabric was layered over top of the corset, flaring at her waist into the train that trailed behind her. The ribbon crossing her bodice was the bright pink of the Tarth sigil, but the lacing at the neck and inside her sleeves was golden.

As Brienne stared, Delphine walked up and began pulling the dress in places. "That should rest there and that will go there. Aha, yes, I can see why she is the best seamstress in King's Landing. You just have to pull it in the right places and it will fit you like a glove. Yes, beautiful! Now hair."

Margaery stepped forward. "I spent much of my years doing my cousins' hair, so I would be happy to do yours for you."

Brienne hesitated for a moment and nodded. She was entirely unfamiliar with hair. When it had been long, she simply did it up in a braid and left it. When she started fighting, she'd been forced to cut it short after one opponent lopped a few inches of her braid off and another had taken the opportunity to pull her hair. However, since being at the Red Keep, it had grown out past her shoulder and she had merely tied it back with a leather strap.

"Anything in particular you would like?"

Brienne thought to speak, but found no words and shook her head.

She thought she heard Margaery sigh in exasperation behind her. "Very well, I will do what I think will suit you best. Let me know if you'd prefer it otherwise."

Brienne inspected her nails while she waited. Maybe this was a mistake, she thought. Her mind and mood were swinging wildly. At points, she would be encouraged—by the beauty of the dress, by their positivity—but then her frustration of the process and her impatience would cause her mood to crash back down. It will be worth it, she parroted to herself what Delphine had been saying in the days leading up to the wedding.

"Sansa, hold this."

The young girl stepped forward, giving Brienne a small smile, holding something against Brienne's head as Margaery worked.

"There. You don't have much hair but I did a small weave and pinned it in place. I'm afraid that will not hold though. Is there a comb?"

Delphine shuffled through what she had available and held them up for Brienne to pick.

Brienne sighed. "Must I?"

"Most ladies want full control of their appearance."

"I'm not most ladies. Just pick one," Brienne said in frustration.

"Very well. This one matches your eyes and has a gold outline." Delphine handed it over.

Brienne felt the teeth of the comb slide into place and after a sharp tug of her hair, Margaery pulled away. "It's done."

"It's beautiful, Margaery," Sansa said, turning Brienne's head to admire her work.

"Now, makeup."

Delphine stood on a stool to reach her face to apply the powders. It was such a painstaking process as the woman would make adjustments here and there with her brushes as if she were painting a masterpiece. Brienne became disgruntled and wondered why in Westeros any lady would want to waste her time with something so annoying and useless. She looked forward to ignoring makeup in the future.

She was not allowed to see the makeup while Delphine applied it. Margaery stood close by, studying her work. Brienne noticed every brow raise and nose crinkle to Margaery's expression, though she nodded along happily more often than not. Eventually, Margaery's eyes lit up and she said, "That's it! You've done it!"

"Ooooh, you look lovely, Lady Brienne," Sansa said with a shy smile.

"Now, my lady, I tried to keep the powder light. We want you to be recognizable, however, you have full control. Tell me whether you like it or not," Delphine said and turned her towards the mirror.

Brienne gasped. Her face, normally pockmarked and freckly, now had a layer of fine powder a hair lighter than her skin wiping all of those blemishes away, leaving it as smooth as porcelain. Her lips were glossy and pink, appearing fuller than she had ever imagined. A bronze shading applied atop her eyelids caused her eyes to stand out. As long as she kept her mouth closed to hide her crooked teeth, she could hardly recognize the person staring back at her.

Is this what it feels like? To be … pretty? She reached up to touch her face, but Delphine swatted it away.

"No smudging. You don't want to ruin the finish. Is that how you want it, my lady?"

Brienne had continued staring at herself and after a moment was jarred from her trance by Delphine's words. "Yuh-yes. Thank you so much. All of you. I-I-I never could have imagined anything like this."

"You're welcome, Brienne," Margaery said warmly. "If you'll excuse me, I must tend to my own appearance. Your wedding will be marvelous; I'm certain of it."

"I can't wait to see you marry. It will be perfect," Sansa said with a dreamy look and sigh. She then bustled out after Margaery.

"Before I take my leave, Lord Lannister had a final present to give you. I shall be but a moment," Delphine said.

It seemed hardly any time had passed at all before Lady Delphine brought forward a great box. Brienne frowned at it. She pulled off the lid and gasped at the pair of boots inside, made with the finest brown leather. However, unlike her training boots which went to her ankle, these were tall enough to stop at mid-calf. A numerous number of holes lined either side of the tongue, corresponding with the two sides and long, thin brown straps were tied into a large, loose knot.

"My wish is that you do not bend and mess up the folds of your dress, so I will assist."

Brienne rolled her eyes at the demand to not lift a finger, but the decision was taken out of her hands as Lady Delphine began sliding her feet into them. She closed her eyes at the feel of the new leather on the soles of her feet. The lacing took some time, but Lady Delphine eventually tied off the last loop.

"There. How does that feel?"

"Good," Brienne said lamely, but she stared down at the boots with no small amount of awe. She assumed that she would be forced into paper-thin slippers that she saw the other ladies wearing. Her own feet were large and ungainly and she could imagine how unsightly it would look for her to be stomping around when she normally had the weight of a boot on her foot. She felt her heart swell in gratitude to know that Jaime had given these to her with a clear stamp of approval.

Finally, Lady Delphine pinned her maiden's cloak to her back.

"There. You are ready. Now, I must also return. I'm sure my husband is having a grand time getting the children ready. Be mindful of your makeup. It will be a wonderful day. Do try to enjoy it," Delphine said with a beaming smile and departed.

Brienne was almost afraid to sit down on the edge of her bed, but did so after a time and picked at her nails, trying to keep her mind off of the wedding. Before too long she started at a knock on her door and hurried to open it. Her father gasped and stared wide-eyed at her. After a moment, he said, "You are a vision, my dear."

She smiled, but it was tight and felt forced. "You're not just saying that?"

"No one in the audience could deny you as a fitting bride to Lord Lannister," he replied, looking like he was about to burst with pride.

Brienne wanted to believe with all of her heart that she would not be made the fool, but her fears dogged her the entire way to the carriage. She sighed as her father helped her up. It irked her that even in these trousers, it was deemed inappropriate to ride a horse to the sept under her own power. She had thought she might enjoy a day of pampering, but it just irritated her how little she was allowed to do as others passed her around like she was a doll to primp.

Just for today, she told herself to soothe her mounting temper.

As soon as the carriage left the Red Keep, she could hear the roar of a gathered crowd and was now glad for the cover. She wasn't certain she could face those happy faces and not feel a cold dread. She glanced over at her father, as she sat as straight and stiff as a column.

He smiled at her and took her hand to squeeze it in reassurance. "You are to become the Lady of House Lannister. You will have visibility to the smallfolk."

"Yes, but like this?" she said, trying to keep her voice light and even, which was a struggle.

Her father chuckled. "Casterly Rock is some distance from Lannisport. I rather doubt they ride out to crowds all of the time. This is simply a grand occasion."

Brienne hadn't seen it herself, but she had heard that Lady Margaery Stark enjoyed waving to the crowd and doing good deeds for the smallfolk. She found it admirable, but such notions were far beyond her capacity. She'd sooner attempt to rid a town of bandits with her sword than wave gaily to the crowd.

"Will Lord Lannister be disappointed in my conduct?"

"He hasn't yet and I doubt he will. He loves you."

She frowned at her father. "I want to believe he loves me too, it's just that …."

"I know. Luck has not been on your side, but it is now. Do you know how I know he loves you?" Her father said, leaning over to catch her eyes which were cast down.

"How?" Brienne whispered.

"I was in the dinghy coming into shore and you both were waiting for me at the edge of the dock. After a time, he stopped looking at me … to look at you. A man who did not love you would not take your feelings into consideration. I can't begin to pretend what was going through his head, but I can only imagine that he was concerned about doing right by you. He looked over at you because he cared about you. That is what decided me to bestow my blessing. The affair at dinner was simply to reaffirm my instincts."

Brienne swallowed a lump in her throat and drew in a deep breath to keep tears from coming to her eyes. "Thank you," she said.

Once the carriage opened, her father climbed out to offer his hand. She gladly took it to give herself something to focus on, doing everything in her power to ignore the crowds screaming around her. Entering the Sept of Baelor felt like stepping into another world, for as soon as the doors closed, the crowd was silenced. A maid at hand stood by to give her a bouquet of blue flowers, a type she wasn't familiar with. She gripped them tightly in her left hand and her father held her right arm.

"Are you ready?" he whispered.

She didn't trust herself to speak and merely nodded.

"It will be fine, my dear. I have the greatest confidence; you should too."

The doors to the hall opened. She nearly froze as all eyes fell on her, but her father began marching forward and she felt herself matching him. Brienne worked to keep her face devoid of emotion, even happiness, but her eyes roved the faces of the crowd. She saw a few women with pursed lips and anger in their eyes, yet more were gaping at her. She had expected the crowd to erupt into laughter or at least see a few muffled snickers, but she heard nothing of the sort. As she got closer, she fixed her eyes on the dais and found Jaime standing there.

He was resplendent in red with accents of white and gold, but his trousers were dark in color. She started up the stairs and noticed his smile. Jaime only ever seemed to give true smiles in her presence. Or His Grace's presence. Otherwise, he was cold or smirking. It was never a true smile like what he was giving her now.

Jaime would never bother to hide his disdain. He loves you, he really does, she kept telling herself. She gave him a weak smile back. If he noticed, there was no outward sign.

Once she took his hand, she noticed Jaime's eyes blatantly rove up and down her body and he whispered just loud enough for her to hear: "Beautiful." A warm rush of blood swept up her cheeks and she was too tongue-tied to answer. Now that she was at his side, she noticed that Jaime had trimmed his hair. He was handsome no matter the cut of his hair, but she thought him more regal with the short hair. However, his long hair gave him the mane of a lion and it seemed a pity to not match his own house's sigil.

The septon began droning, but she barely heard the words. She felt transfixed by Jaime's eyes. They seemed to dance in the sunlight pouring through the stained glass. If there was any hesitation, any doubt, she was certain she would see it in that moment, but neither his gaze nor his smile wavered.

"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection," the septon said.

Brienne thought her voice might have hitched in her throat, but she drew her mouth into a thin line and hoped Jaime had not heard it. She turned around. The removal of her cloak felt not unlike having a sentimental toy taken from her as a child. She had grown up under her house's sigil, but forevermore she would be expected to embrace the Lannister sigil. When she turned back, she was surprised to find Jaime carefully folding her maiden's cloak before throwing it over his own shoulder.

She was brought out of her thoughts when the septon began binding their hands with the ribbon.

"In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one, for eternity. Now, look upon one another and say the words …."

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger, I am his and he is mine from this day until the end of my days," she repeated quietly, hoping it was loud enough for the septon. Jaime's voice was nearly as soft. She's not sure if she'd ever heard his voice so soft.

"You may now seal this vow with a kiss."

Brienne felt the tension in her shoulders ease at the command. She and Jaime had snuck a few kisses in during their quiet luncheons. The moment was at once relaxing and terrifying that she would now be made to kiss Jaime in front of hundreds of nobles. She felt her blush rise once more, but for this kiss, they both met in the middle and did a quick peck on the lips, and then he started leading her away.

She heard the crowds of people clapping as they walked down the aisle. Brienne determinedly kept her eyes on the front doors, not daring to look around lest she see the sneering faces that she'd seen all of her life. Jaime allowed her to climb into the carriage first and then he followed her.

Once they were seated, Jaime let out a great sigh and said, "Well, I'm glad that's over with."

She stared at him.

He chuckled at her look. "Did you think I enjoyed that any more than you? Such a needless spectacle. But it's done. And I must say, you look ravishing." There was a clear hunger in his eyes as he looked her over once more.

Brienne still felt like something was in her throat, but she finally croaked, "I won't always look like this."

His smile fell and he seemed almost confused. "I'm aware, but I hope this has proven to you that it is possible for you to be pretty. The other ladies look pretty because they go to this effort every day. This was a special occasion and you looked special for it," he said with a small shrug. "It makes it all the sweeter."

Why must I act like such a sop? She thought to herself, feeling the warmth building inside her at the compliment.

"I am pleased that I am pretty for once. I do love this dress, but I'm ready to be back in my armor with my sword again."

Jaime grinned. "I'm eager to see a sword in your hand as well."

There was something wicked in his eye and she glared at him suspiciously as if he were mocking her.

He chuckled. "We just have to make it through dinner tonight and we're free."

"Just dinner," Brienne replied with no small amount of trepidation.

"At least it's only seven courses and not seventy-seven."

Brienne wrinkled her nose. "Seventy-seven?! Who would command such a ridiculous amount?"

The humor froze on his face and his eyes were suddenly far away. Then he shook his head and said, "Never mind. It's going to be fine, Brienne. Dinner will be but a boring affair." He reached over and put his hand on hers and began rubbing it soothingly with his thumb.

Brienne shivered at the touch and couldn't seem to take her eyes away from his hand. By the laws of men, he was hers to do with as he pleased. There was dinner, but then there was also the bedding. Another pit started forming in her stomach as she was forcibly reminded of the bedding ritual. The other men were to strip her naked and present her to Jaime. He was supposed to be equally as naked, but she could just imagine the cruelty of those men's words and the sneers on their faces. Suddenly, she no longer felt the warmth of the afternoon and a chill ran through her body.

As per courting, Jaime knew not the ugly creature he was marrying. She was pretty now with the makeup and the layers of fabric, but once stripped bare, it would become more than apparent that she did not possess the beauty of Lady Margaery Stark. She had seen countless sneers on Jaime's face, none of them directed at her, but would that change after tonight?

It seemed there was nothing that would soothe her anxiety, so she attempted to put it to the back of her mind.

The dinner was, indeed, a dull affair for which Brienne was grateful. A small band of musicians plucked gently on lyres and lutes to give the atmosphere an airy frivolity. It was pleasant. She had difficulty believing that she had gone the entire day without hearing a single snicker. It was a welcome relief and she tried to keep it at the forefront of her mind.

"Are you feeling well? Your father said this was your favorite meal," Jaime asked her with a touch of concern.

"It is delicious, thank you," Brienne said, taking a bite of her bronze cod stew to appease him. It was the most common fish her people netted, so she ate it frequently, but it was scarce in King's Landing. Despite the sea being close at hand, it seemed most of the nobility preferred chicken or pork. It touched her that Jaime had gone out of his way to please her. She only wished her stomach was not still tied up into knots. "How are you?" Her eyes flickered out to the crowd.

Jaime gave her a disgruntled grimace. "It's fine. It's not too loud after all. I'll manage." He seemed to catch the eye of someone else and gave a curt nod.

She turned to look and saw Lord Cyrus and little Lady Lucille striding into the center of all, cradling a violin in her arms.

Lord Cyrus bowed and his daughter did a passable curtsy. "My lord, my lady, my daughter wishes to play a song for you in celebration of your marriage."

Brienne felt her heart pounding in her chest and her throat go dry as all eyes turned on them.

"We look forward to hearing Lady Lucille play," Jaime said. She felt him nudge her underneath the table where no one could say.

"Yuh-yes, I am looking forward to hearing you play," Brienne said, feeling herself redden as she lamely repeated Jaime. However, she sat up and leaned forward. She knew that Lady Lucille played an instrument, much like her father and her brothers, but she hadn't yet heard her. She was quite skilled with the sword and a bow did not seem all that different.

"It's called Run Free," Lady Lucille said in a clear voice. Lord Cyrus stepped away as Lady Lucille raised her violin. There was a moment of stillness as her bow was poised in the air just above her violin, then all at once it met the strings and slow notes filled the hall as she dragged the bow out. It did not stay slow for long as the pace increased until her fingers were flying over the strings. She swayed with the frantic movement of the bow, her whole being moved by music.

Brienne felt her heart soar at the hope she felt from the music and she smiled despite herself. She glanced over to Jaime to find his eyes half-lidded as they followed the music. Once she'd heard the secret about his vision, she would wonder at times what he was seeing that could cause him such consternation. For the first time since she'd learned of this talent, he was calm and relaxed.

She was actually disappointed once the last of the high clear notes rang through the hall. The spell Lucille cast lasted a moment before it was broken by an uproarious applause. Brienne clapped enthusiastically with them.

Lady Lucille appeared unbothered by the noise and simply dipped into another curtsy. "Thank you," she said and walked off toward her father.

Brienne looked shrewdly towards Jaime. "You knew she was going to play?"

"Of course. Lady Lucille wished to thank you for your training. I heard the song ahead of time and approved it. She's quite good, don't you agree?" Jaime said with a smirk.

"Of course I agree," Brienne replied and nudged him playfully. She would have to find Lady Lucille and give her a proper thanks. She had enjoyed music, but most of what she knew were simple folk songs or bawdy tunes the men sang. It was a new experience listening to the members of House Alexandratos play.

"It won't be too long now before we're going North," Jaime said, his eyes haunted and wistful.

Brienne shifted in her seat uncomfortably. The topic of Winterfell was a dicey one, but not so dicey as mentioning Jaime's bastard son. If he was so much as referenced, Jaime would become quiet and furious. It was not often that Jaime directed his ire at her, but it was one of the few topics that could do it. One such occasion was when she broached the subject of whether to tell her father about his son's existence.

"What need? He's unlikely to be alive after all," Jaime had snarled at her and gave her the cold shoulder for the rest of the afternoon.

So she had remained quiet. She had only ever pitied bastards. They were born outcasts to society and she had grown into one. Only through what seemed divine intervention did she find herself marrying well above her title to a man who would tolerate her armor and her fighting. She had never heard her father speak ill of them and she wanted to say he held the same consideration for them as she did, but she couldn't be sure.

"Are we really just waiting on the weddings to make the move North?" Brienne asked.

Jaime regarded her carefully for a moment. In the two months since he had proposed, Brienne noticed that Jaime had a talent for artfully dodging certain questions. At first, she had put it down to secrecy since it was so important in the Red Keep, but the longer she spent with him, the more she was convinced he was skirting something significant. He would say things and then freeze, as if he just only realized it was not something to be spoken of, and glide right past it to a new subject. Now that they were married, would she know?

"No," Jaime finally said. "There is something else. But the weddings are still important. House Lannister still has to make an impression, hence the large affair. King Aemon has retaken the throne and will be taking Princess Daenerys as his queen. With so many of his allies at hand, it would damn near appear to be an insult for them to just leave before they sanctified the Targaryen House as the traditional kings of the Seven Kingdoms. They're rushing as it is. The wedding is only two weeks away. A ceremony that big would normally take months to plan."

"So what is it? What is this 'something else?'"

"You won't be distracted, will you?" Jaime snorted. "You'll find out with the rest of the Seven Kingdoms."

Brienne sighed and sat back. Perhaps this was the big secret that Jaime skirted and it pleased her that she might soon know what was so important to constantly sidestep.

He abruptly began looking around the hall. He checked her plate and the revelers. Many had begun dancing. She noticed Robb and Lady Margaery on the floor, both with besotted smiles on their faces. Lady Sansa had Lord Willas Tyrell in her arms as they swayed gently in one spot. Lord Edric Baratheon and Lady Shireen giggled as they worked on the steps of the dance, as neither one of them had perfected it yet.

"Are you ready to leave?" Jaime asked.

Brienne had been so caught up in their conversation that she hadn't noticed the time passing. All at once, her anxiety of the bedding ceremony spiked, but she looked hopefully back at Jaime. "Are we allowed?"

"Of course we are. I'm Lord Lannister." He walked over to King Aemon and whispered in his ear. The king merely nodded and gave him a small wave before rising from his own seat and taking Princess Daenerys by hand to take a turn on the dance floor. The crowd made awed noises at their approach.

"See? The perfect distraction," Jaime said and began leading her away, ducking out one of the back entrances to avoid awkward questions.