As the hostess of tonight's banquet, Rhaenys Targaryen naturally sat at the high table, but a rare smile now graced the face that had been so gloomy all evening.
Her gaze swept over her eldest daughter, Laena, then settled on the two children whose hands she held. A trace of pride that only she could understand surfaced in her deep purple eyes.
Then she glanced at Laenor, whom Joffrey had an arm around in a corner, and that pride faded a little, replaced by resignation-but only resignation.
She turned back and raised her wine cup, gently rubbing a finger along its rim.
Looking at her son Laenor, still sitting with Joffrey, and then at her eldest daughter Laena, she could only sigh inwardly. That's my daughter.
Though a guest, Viserys was still the king and therefore occupied the center of the high table. Already excited by the surprise Aegon had brought him that afternoon, he now wore the very same proud expression as his cousin Rhaenys.
He had changed out of the finery the sea breeze had left rumpled that afternoon and put on a more casual velvet royal robe.
After all the "bullying" you've put me through, Corlys, why should I dress so formally and give you a pleasant face? The tables have turned!
His complexion was far better than it had been when he was vomiting over the ship's rail that afternoon, and his gaze never left his son and daughter beside Laena.
In particular, as he watched Laena enter the hall with Rhaenyra and Aegon by the hand, he could not hide his smile. Even the curve of his lips matched Rhaenys's at that moment.
Those are my children. Without even trying, they've eased the tension and mended this afternoon's rift with the Velaryons, Viserys told himself.