Chapter 12: Dorne

Joanna:

"You summoned us, cousin,"

"I did, Gerion," She wasn't bothered by the informal greeting, she came to expect such charm from him. She held her hand up to stop Kevan from correcting his youngest brother while Tygett did nothing in the matter, taking his seat, looking sour and uninterested.

She had called them to the solar, watching them take seats around her, the latest letter from Jaime was folded closed and at her elbow.

"Yes, Kevan, no need to waste your breath blustering," Gerion's green eyes gleamed in amusement.

"You're giving me a headache," Tygett poured himself some ale that had been brought to them by one of the castle's servants while Joanna had wine.

"To be fair, brother. You would be drinking regardless of any such pain I inflicted on you," Gerion took the seat, furthest away.

Tygett only grunted, deciding it was better to nurse his ale then continue bickering with his brother.

Joanna had gathered them all here because an opportunity had presented itself, and she could not ignore it. She would move forward with her plan first and then bring it to her husband's attention. She wasn't concerned of Tywin's reaction, knowing she had his trust in ruling the Rock while he was away as well as deferring to her when it came to their children.

So in her husband's absence she would rely on his brothers, who had served Tywin as advisers and councilors to help insure the continued prosperity of House Lannister. She would've included Genna as well, whose wit and cunning, she relied on, but sadly, she had been instructed to stay in bed for the remainder of her pregnancy.

"Is that from Jaime?"

"It is," Her fingers resting on the letter.

It had been a welcomed arrival as it gave her first glimpse of Tyrion outside of the Rock. He had been invited to The Water Gardens of Dorne by Princess Elia after Jaime had been invited to Dorne by Prince Doran. Tywin was reluctant despite Jaime's insistence his brother come with him. Tyrion hadn't left the safety of the Rock or Lannisport, but in the end, Joanna had convinced him.

A decision that looked to have been the right one as Jaime's letter brought with it great tidings. His words about his brother's time in Dorne caused her heart to swell with happiness.

He's happy, he enjoys himself, and has made friends.

The rest of which brought a few tear drops to fall on the letter, staining the paper and blotting bits of her son's messy scrawl.

They were tears of relief and joy overcame her at the thought of her son being well treated amongst strangers and making friends. Despite convincing Tywin to let him go, she could not deny her own fears that gnawed at her, having never left young Tyrion's side since he was born, and to let him not only out of her sight but so far away had left her stomach in knots, worried and fearful of what arrival awaited her son in Dorne.

She had not been the only one, Cersei too had misgivings, but never showed them in front of Tyrion who had been so happy and excited about the trip he would be taking with Jaime.

Putting aside her relief and happiness at Tyrion's warm welcome in Dorne. It was within this letter that Jaime had sparked the idea that she was determined to carry out.

"How are they?" Gerion always had a fondness for Joanna's children, doting on all three of them in equal measures. Regaling them with jokes and stories that easily catapulted him into the position as the children's favorite uncle.

"He is well," Joanna told them, "Tyrion is enjoying himself."

A relieved smile passed over the features of Gerion before he shifted his expression into a more relaxed look. It was brief, but telling only further showing his affection for his nephews.

"Jaime has also informed me, that Prince Daeron is expected to travel to Dorne after his visit in the Stormlands," She suspected the Prince had traveled to Storm's End, consoling his friend, and new lord, Robert, who had lost his parents in a storm on their way back to Westeros after securing a bride for Prince Rhaegar.

It had been a tragedy to lose Lord Steffon Baratheon and his wife, Lady Cassana. She respected them both, and considered them friends. Joanna wasn't alone in that sentiment, recalling the close friendship that Tywin had had with Aerys and Steffon when they were younger. A friendship that looked to have carried over to their sons as Daeron, Jaime, and Robert had become close friends too as well as Eddard Stark, Lord Rickard's second son. She only hoped their friendships didn't sour like their parents' had.

"I expect Prince Daeron to have already arrived to Dorne, but he will stay for a time, as he counts both Princess Elia and Prince Oberyn among his friends," Joanna continued, "That is why we will be sending Cersei to Dorne under the pretext of collecting Tyrion and bringing him back to the Rock."

With Crown Prince Rhaegar wedded to his Free Cities bride that meant Prince Daeron was the only attenable Targaryen prince that would be suited for their daughter, Cersei. It was important to move forward with Prince Daeron, as other lords would begin vying for the potential of marrying one of their sisters or daughters to Aerys' second son. What better way for them to start then under an inconspicuous guise as a visit to Dorne away from the prying eyes and shadows that are concealed in the capital and in the King's court?

"Another prince for Cersei?" Gerion surmised. Despite his efforts, he couldn't conceal his cleverness, even when he pretended not to possess it, settling for japes and bawdy stories.

It is because he fears that his wits could not match that of Tywin's, Joanna suspected, so he doesn't bother to try.

"Which number is this?" Gerion scratched his chin, feigning to be in deep thought, "Three? Four?"

"It is the second," Kevan chided him, sending his brother a look of disapproval.

"Tygett, I'm putting you in charge of the company of guards that will be escorting Cersei to Dorne," she turned to the only one who had yet to speak. "You will be leaving the day after next."

"Very well," he wasn't able to hide his dislike at the idea of having to travel to Dorne, "Does my brother know of this venture?"

"He will."

Tygett understood, and nodded, he finished his tankard of ale before standing up, "If you excuse me, I'll begin the preparations."

"Thank you, Tygett," She allowed him his leave, knowing that he probably chastened at being given instructions from her. He was a proud soldier, who prickled under Tywin's shadow, but he was loyal to the bone to their house so she allowed him his surly brooding.

"What of Cersei?" Kevan didn't make his opinion known of the plan or that it hadn't met with his brother's approval yet. He looked to be struggling with the proper description, "She has been unwell for some time."

"That's a gentle way of putting it," Gerion snickered, "Our little niece is sulking."

Their observations rung true.

Cersei had been inconsolable when it had been announced that a bride had been found for the Crown Prince. She had unwisely allowed delusions to settle in her head that Rhaegar was already hers, and had dreamed of the golden haired dragons she'd give him. With shattered dreams, she was sent back to the Rock by Tywin, where she sobbed and raged upon losing her beloved Rhaegar.

She had refused to go to the wedding, lingering at the Rock where she brooded and cursed her misfortune and the royal life that had been denied her. The only light for her had been Tyrion, but he was now in Dorne with Jaime. His absence had only let Cersei sink deeper into despair.

"I will handle Cersei," Joanna assured them, "I will remind her of her duties to our family. And what is expected of her."

"What of the King?" Kevan asked, "He's denied us once already." He frowned, "What's to stop him from denying us again?"

"It isn't in Aerys' nature to make the right decision when our beloved brother is involved," Gerion quipped.

"Summerhall."

A quiet hush had fallen over the solar at the mention of the ruined castle that once used by the Targaryen family. It had been destroyed by a disastrous fire that had killed King Aegon the unlikely, and his son and heir, Prince Duncan, and countless others of importance.

"Aegon's doom," Kevan muttered softly,

"Can be rebuilt and restored, our family can finance it as part of a betrothal agreement between our house and the crown," Joanna wanted to pull them out of their reflective haze, "And it can be made Prince Daeron's seat."

She had once thought Castamere could serve as a suitable seat, but she came across problems at the idea, so her interest shifted to the former Targaryen seat in the Stormlands. She knew restoring it would delight Aerys. Remembering when they were younger how he use to enjoy Summerhall, and the feasts he'd host there as a Prince when he felt King's Landing was too stifling and Dragonstone too grim.

It was a bleak ruin now. A smoldering graveyard that signaled the near annihilation of the Targaryen dynasty. It could be remade to its former glory, where revels and feasts and tourneys could be had there once more and not a place solely for mourning and reflection.

"That would be quite the financial undertaking," Kevan said cautiously.

Gerion chuckled, "To most families, mayhaps," he shrugged, "But last I checked we're sitting on a gold mine, brother."

"That is to be discussed with Tywin for another time," Joanna wasn't as concerned as Kevan, but neither was she as dismissive as Gerion. Saying her husband's name had the desired effect as it brought the two brothers to heel.

"I'll write the letter to Tywin to inform him of what we're planning."

An hour later, Joanna found herself in the company of her daughter within the solar, Kevan and Gerion had departed with their appointed tasks, and Joanna was left to handle hers.

"Dorne?"

"That's right," She looked to see Cersei had been prepared for their meeting by the servants. Her face was freshly scrubbed, her hair washed, and her gown was clean and presentable save for a fresh rip among one of the sleeves.

In the aftermath of Rhaegar's wedding, Joanna had allowed Cersei her time and space to mourn and rage at the missed opportunity of being Rhaegar's wife and Westeros' Queen. She had hoped those feelings would stir Cersei's ambition and her pride at not allowing one rejected betrothal shape her life. She believed that Cersei would come to her not accepting such defeat and ready to move forward to get her revenge, but Joanna realized she was wrong.

I've failed her, she thought sadly, seeing her bereft daughter in such a state, I chose solitary instead of comfort when handling her distress. This only strengthened her resolve in making sure this betrothal went seamlessly. She would not have her daughter lose a second Targaryen Prince . Prince Daeron will be Cersei's husband, she vowed silently, no matter the cost.

"The time for reflections is over, darling," she squeezed her daughter's hand, "Westeros has lost an opportunity for a great Queen, and Rhaegar a lovely wife." Cersei's fingers squeezed tightly, "You will show the king and the court his folly and remind them that a lioness cannot be so easily spurned."

Cersei's reaction was a sniffle. Her lip trembled, while fresh tears threatened to fall.

"I thought I raised a lioness not a weepy house cat," Joanna chided her. She wanted to fan the fire that she knew her daughter possessed, which had been extinguished for too long. "A great beauty that was beyond compare to the maidens of this realm who would ensnare the proudest of dragons."

Her daughter wiped at her eyes, but no tears had been shed. "I am a lioness of the Rock," she hiccupped. Her lip was no longer shaking, and the pools that were in her eyes were gone, instead a simmering fire could be seen lurking beneath.

"I know you're upset, child, but you will use it," She confided in her, "It will motivate you and it will insure that you will not taste such bitterness again." She smiled at her daughter, thankful that she was slipping out of her brooding shell.

"It was suppose to be Rhaegar," she said petulantly.

"No," Joanna was quick in her reprimand, not allowing such a reaction. She hoped that was the dying outburst of her tantrum and not its beginning. "Rhaegar is lost to you. You will accept it and you will be glad of it."

"Glad?" Her tone threatened on disrespectful, "I would have been a Queen."

"So?" Joanna wasn't impressed,

Cersei was caught off guard by her glib response, "I-I'd be q-queen," she sputtered, "I-I'd have power," her eyes gleamed at the conjured future she let play out in her mind.

Joanna scoffed, "I didn't raise a fool," She shook her head, "You were at the capital?"

Cersei frowned. "I was."

"And what of Queen Rhaella? Did she have power?" She challenged, "Did she look happy?" It hurt her to voice the questions out loud, as it forced her to confront the grim reality that plagued the woman she had considered a dear friend for so many years.

She didn't want to be Queen, Joanna remembered, That crown had only given her grief and misery.

"No," she answered slowly, aware of the confirmation it brought, but she refused to let it dampen her for long. "Rhaegar would be different."

"You do not know that." Joanna noticed there was no conviction in her daughter's voice in her refusal,

"I do," she bowed her head, "H-he rejected me," her admission was a mere whisper, "I-I came to him, wanting to help, b-but he sent me away."

Joanna moved to stand behind her daughter, hugging her from behind. Her head resting on her daughter's, trying to soothe the raw emotions that she was experiencing.

"Then he is a fool, darling," She assured her, "And you are better off not being his wife." She kissed Cersei's head, "Distance can be its own cruelty."

Cersei didn't speak up right away, letting the heartbeats of silence stretch on between mother and daughter, as she composed herself. "I was stupid," she looked over her shoulder at her, "I won't be stupid again."

Joanna smiled down at her, "You will consider yourself fortunate, Cersei. Prince Daeron is handsome," her smile turning impish as she nudged her daughter's shoulder, "Do not try to deny it. You cannot fool me," her gentle ribbing brought a giggle out of her, and it was a peal of delight that filled her with happiness.

" Mother," she said when the giggling subsided, sounding flustered at the sensitive nature of the talk before them.

"Oh, Cersei, I was young once," Joanna dismissed her daughter's half hearted protests, "But I will not press the matter," winking down at her, "He is kind and charming, and a skilled fighter."

"He is," Cersei's tone had an odd touch to it that Joanna couldn't quite place.

She put that aside and continued, "The gods have put you on a different path to walk. Perhaps, it is with Prince Daeron that you'll find contentment, that you'll find respect."

Cersei responded with silence, whether she was mulling over her words or sulking at the glories lost to her, Joanna wasn't sure. However, she knew she needed to stamp out the latter or any hope of a blossoming betrothal between her daughter and Prince Daeron will surely die in its infancy.

"Cersei," She coaxed her daughter, "You must let Rhaegar go," She spotted the hesitance that lingered in her daughter's gaze, stubbornly clinging to a hope that wasn't there. "Please, child, for your sake."

"I will, Mother," Cersei said quietly.

Jaime:

Cersei is traveling to Dorne.

The letter had come from his mother and had been delivered to him at his chambers within the Water Gardens. It now remained crumpled in his hand as he mulled over its contents. It was brief and vague in case it was intercepted or read by unwanted eyes, but it was loud and clear to him what he must do.

Ingratiate his sister with Prince Daeron to ensure a relationship can take root.

He put the letter to the nearby candle that rested on his table. He watched it burn while his father's voice echoed in his head.

Family must always come first.

He sighed. Understanding what was to come and the role he needed to play but it didn't make it any less difficult. The Prince may not have been family, but Jaime considered him a brother.

"Jaime?"

He looked over his shoulder to see the welcomed sight of Elia walking towards him. His family and schemes were fleeting in the face of the enchanting princess. He got to his feet to greet her.

"Hiding in your room?" She teased, "Are you afraid of the sun ?"

"Not afraid," he grinned, "I'm in awe of it." He kissed her. His desire for her only growing at her contenting sighs and teasing touches.

"Jaime," she whimpered in between their kisses. Her hands sliding beneath his tunic, her fingers skimming across his skin, a searing touch that left him wanting more.

"My Princess spoils me," He said breathlessly when he pulled away from their heated embrace. A reluctant action but a necessary one, as he was expecting his brother shortly.

Her dark eyes shimmering amorously, "My lion is good to me." She kissed his cheek.

He breathed in her intoxicating scent. She smelled of lemons and desire. The impulse to continue their kiss grew and burned within despite his efforts to stem them. He took her hand and led her to the table where Dornish wine awaited them. "Have you heard from Ashara?"

"I haven't," Elia frowned in her answer, "They should've reached Starfall by now."

The they were Jaime's friends, Robert and Ned. The two had accompanied Prince Daeron from Storm's End and had feasted a night at Sunspear with Prince Doran before continuing their voyage to Starfall. It was there where Ned was going to ask Lord Dayne for Ashara's hand in marriage.

Jaime poured them each a glass of the wine. This was a strongwine vintage and one of the few Dornish wines that he liked. He handed her a glass, "I'm certain they've been too busy feasting and celebrating the betrothal and have forgotten to write." The excuse felt hollow even to his ears.

Elia sent him a skeptical look that revealed she too felt his words sounded weak.

"I'm sure we'll hear from them soon," Jaime tried a different approach, taking the seat beside his own betrothed. "Lord Dayne would be a fool to deny Ned."

She took his words in silence as she sipped her wine. "Let us pray you are right."

"When am I wrong, Princess?"

"Too often," Her smile dampening her rebuke.

He laughed, "Your wit is as sharp as your brother's spear, my lady."

"Sharper," she corrected.

Jaime looked down at his untouched glass of strongwine, taking a small sip and savoring the sweet taste that came with it. "How is Oberyn liking his potential bride?"

A party from the Reach had arrived a few days ago. It had been Oberyn's ideas and not of his older brother and ruling prince, Doran. So it came as a surprise to all when he announced that he invited Mace Tyrell's sister to the Water Gardens with the intentions of considering a possible betrothal between himself and the Lady Tyrell.

As an outsider to Dornish politics even Jaime saw it as a smart match. A betrothal between a Lady of Highgarden and a Dornish prince could help to soothe past bitter rivalries between the Reach and Dorne.

"You don't know?" Elia frowned, "He never told you?"

"Who?" Jaime felt the frustration bubbling up. "Never told me what?"

"Lady Mina, she isn't for my brother." Elia answered simply, "She's Prince Daeron's paramour."

"Wait, what?" Jaime didn't understand.

"She is his secret paramour," Elia said sympathetically, sensing his hurt and confusion upon not knowing earlier.

"How did you know?"

"Oberyn cannot keep secrets from me," she shrugged, "Besides Oberyn getting married?" She sounded amused, "He has no intention of committing such folly."

"I didn't know," He mumbled, unable to deny the hurt that came with it. He thought Daeron a brother, and yet when he needed to confide a secret, it was Oberyn not Jaime he turned to.

Is he wrong? The thought came to him, as soft as a whisper, Your family wants him with your sister, who would you choose? His happiness or your family's?

Jaime frowned at being confronted with that truth. It was a touch that broke from his musings, looking down to see the soft, tanned hands of his betrothed atop his. His eyes found her face, where she sent him a look of understanding. In seeing her he didn't have the energy to care about his family's plotting and his father's schemes. That didn't matter to Jaime which prompted him to ask.

"Does she make Prince Daeron happy?"

"Yes."

"Good."

She smiled towards him, "You're a good friend, Jaime," She squeezed his hands, "Prince Daeron loves you as a brother. Please don't see this as a slight of his trust towards you."

He returned her smile. His spirit was buoyed by her words, finding himself so grateful at having a betrothed who cared so much. Despite her supposed fragility that never stopped her from being his rock. Her compassion made her stronger than Jaime thought he'd ever be.

"Auntie Elia!" A delighted squeal broke the comfortable silence that had fallen on the betrothed couple.

The two turned to see Tyrion waddling into the room. His mismatched eyes were solely set on the Princess of Dorne. He had a bright smile as he approached her, "Auntie Elia, are you coming with us to the fountains?"

Auntie Elia, Jaime couldn't help but grin at the name. His younger brother spent much of his time here with Doran's daughter, Princess Arianne and Oberyn's bastard daughter, Obara, both of whom called Elia their Aunt. Not wanting to be left out, Tyrion started to call her that too.

Elia took to the name with delight, "Tyrion," She stood up to greet him.

His younger brother was usually shy and reserved in the presences of strangers. That quickly changed during his brief time at the Water Gardens and being around Princess Elia. Like the sigil of her house, her warmth melted away his shyness. She showed him nothing but smiles and kindness and in doing so earned the affection of a timid boy and securing her place in Jaime's own heart.

She scooped him up and kissed his cheek much to his joy. "How is my favorite Lannister?"

"We're gonna play in the fountains," he answered, savoring the fondness she showed him.

"Who's we?" Jaime took his brother from Elia's arms, knowing that the weight could be troublesome for her if she held him too long.

Jaime got his answer not from his brother but by the loud intruders who allowed themselves into his room. Tyrion squirmed in Jaime's grip at their arrival, clearly favoring being with them. He put his fidgeting brother down just as Princess Arianne and Obara began circling Jaime's legs. The girls were three, younger than Tyrion, but that never stopped them from acting as if they were his older sisters instead, something that his brother didn't seem to mind.

"Auntie Elia," Obara greeted her, "Are you coming with us?"

"Yes, Auntie?" Arianne turned to her as well, "please?"

"Am I invisible?" Jaime was dramatically looking around the room to see if he could be seen. His performance garnered laughs from the children.

"No, Uncle Jaime," Arianne answered quickly.

Despite them only being betrothed and not married that didn't stop the children from calling him uncle. It was something that Oberyn actively encouraged. Jaime didn't mind it, he liked it as it served as a reminder of his pending union with Elia. "Then why aren't you asking me?"

"Because," Obara said as if it was obvious, "We know you're coming."

Jaime laughed, admiring their confidence, and realized they had a point. He always folded to their requests and it seemed it hadn't gone unnoticed.

Elia was giggling from where she stood. Holding Tyrion's hand while her nieces were tugging at the skirts of her dress. "Well, of course, I couldn't leave my lions in the company of such dangerous beauties?"

Obara and Arianne cheered. They exchanged grins before racing each other towards the fountains. The servants that were tasked with watching them were forced to follow them, hopelessly calling back to them to slow down.

"We shan't let them beat us," Jaime picked up Tyrion, who encouraged it with a laugh, "What do you say brother?" He carefully placed him atop his shoulders, "Shall we try to catch them?"

"Yes!" Tyrion exclaimed, his stubby hands clinging tightly to Jaime.

"We shall need a Princess' blessing?"

"Is that right?" Elia asked with a knowing grin.

"Of course," Jaime insisted, "It's only proper."

"Proper!" Tyrion echoed happily.

Elia shook her head, but her smile never left her face as she approached the Lannister brothers. "Well only because its proper."

He bent down so she could reach Tyrion, who was thrilled when she kissed both his cheeks for his blessing.

Jaime cleared his throat, grinning as he did.

Elia rolled her eyes, "Jaime," she murmured softly, "You will always have my blessing," She promised him, before kissing his lips. It was a brief but intoxicating touch, that ended far too abruptly when Tyrion yanked at his hair.

"Come on, Jaime!" Tyrion reminded him, "Before it's too late."

"Very well," The touch of her lips remained a distraction on his mind. As did the playful smirk she gave him when it was over. He stymied the groan, knowing there would be time for future pleasure with his betrothed, but right now he had a race to win.

Prince Doran's table that night was loud and crowded but Jaime had gotten use to it during his stay at the Water Gardens. He enjoyed the intimate setting where the prince and his wife hosted their meals, allowing the children to sit with them, both noble and bastard. That night they supped on lamb that had been seasoned with honey, lemon, and fiery peppers. It was served with grape leaves stuffed with raisins, onions, mushrooms, and fiery dragon peppers. To wash it down was an array of Dornish wines, red and strongwine.

The sweet and spicy foods of Dorne was something Jaime was still trying to get his stomach to accommodate to. The richness of the food and the variety of flavors ranging from sweet to bittersweet, and spicy to sweat inducing levels of hot and zesty. This meal was no different. He was never quick with his food, sampling and measured bites to get himself adjusted to the diverse palates that Dorne offered. He was also quicker with his wine, depending on it to help swallow some of the more difficult tastes that he had trouble finishing.

All around him conversations were happening, laughing and talking, as the guests talked among themselves, sharing and joining others in mid discussion. It was loud, but Jaime found a comfort in the noise, the closeness of the Martell family was warm and he had to admit he enjoyed the atmosphere it created. It was a stark contrast to his family meals at the Rock which he enjoyed, but the intimacy wasn't the same to this. Discipline and etiquette was still expected even if it was just them eating in the Hall.

Even as he nibbled at the lamb, he overheard a particular bawdy story Oberyn was telling to the Lady Mina, his brother, and Prince Daeron. Its ending made Jaime nearly cough up his food while silently praying his brother hadn't heard the story or worse repeat it to their mother upon their return to the Rock.

Daeron was grinning when it was over. "You'd make a wonderful bard, Oberyn with such ribald tales."

"Really?" Elia asked, turning to her brother, "I always thought he'd be more fitting as the fool," She winked at him. Her jest earning laughs from Daeron and Mina, even Prince Doran's usual stoic demeanor cracked at his sister's mirth, chuckling along.

Oberyn paid her insult no mind, "My sweet sister always so supportive of me."

That ensued into familiar bickering as the Prince and Princess traded harmless japes back and forth. Prince Doran looked on, more resigned then surprised at the antics of his younger siblings. However, his eyes held nothing but affection for them while watching the interplay between them.

This night knowing the truth had Jaime more observant to the behavior of the secret paramours. He watched and scrutinized their words and movements trying to detect any sort of fondness or passion they allegedly had for one another. They were friendly but not overtly so, polite to one another, with innocent exchanges that followed. It appeared they seemed more disinterested, choosing to have conversations with those around them instead of each other.

It seemed so telling now to Jaime, but he was looking for it. When he hadn't, it hadn't raised his suspicion or caught his interest. It was a subtleness to it that didn't cause the person's attention to linger on the indifference they showed one other.

This was Cersei's unexpected rival, he studied the Lady Tyrell in a new light. She was wearing a green sleeveless dress that showed glimpses of skin that had once been pale, that had now begun to tan under the sun. Golden embroidery weaved throughout her dress. She wore a chain around her neck with golden rose petals. Her hair was brown and dangled loosely around her face.

He must've been staring too long for his gaze didn't go unnoticed, Mina turned his way, her bright blue eyes were on him. "Tell me Jaime, the Prince mentioned you sparred the day before."

The prince, before he knew, he would've thought she was referring to Oberyn, but now he couldn't be so sure.

"We did," he confirmed, realizing other conversations were dying down as more heads were turning towards him and Lady Mina.

"How did you fare?"

"He won!" Tyrion answered enthusiastically much to the amusement of those around the table.

"The first one, he did," Daeron smiled towards Tyrion, "But I bested him the next two."

"And the last one, Prince?" Jaime couldn't resist.

"It was inconclusive."

Jaime snorted, "That's what you call a defeat?"

Daeron shrugged, "The perks of being a royal prince, my friend."

"Indeed," Jaime chuckled, and he wasn't alone in the mirth as it rippled up and down the table.

In laughing with the Prince, Jaime didn't need to think about secrets and schemes. He could just enjoy their friendship even if it felt fleeting.