Only now did everyone in the hall finally grasp everything that had happened in those lightning-fast moments.
Most of the Westerosi guests who knew Aegon's identity took it in stride. That afternoon, they had already watched their eight-year-old prince lead his dragons into making the arrogant Prince Daemon eat humble pie, then beat the island host's heir until he screamed for his parents.
Now he was merely drawing a blade to teach some wastrel from across the Narrow Sea a lesson. This hardly counted as a spectacle.
Besides-men had their pride.
This boy was nothing but the son of a fallen house in Essos, yet he dared throw his weight around here in Westeros.
Why shouldn't His Highness beat him? Their only regret was that the "old Sea Snake's" overbearing presence kept them from lending the prince a hand.
Indeed, being beaten by His Highness was an honor in itself.
Many even held their wine cups and settled in to enjoy the show, waiting to laugh at this jumping jackass and his prospective father-in-law, Corlys Velaryon, who was usually so haughty and overbearing.
Most guests who knew Aegon's identity and had witnessed the afternoon's farce were enjoying the spectacle.
But those who did not know who Aegon was or what had happened that afternoon, the guests who had traveled all the way from Essos, were far less composed.
The envoys and merchant representatives from the Free Cities who knew neither Aegon's identity nor what had happened that afternoon now wore expressions of sympathy and lingering fear.
A few lowered their voices and anxiously turned to fellow countrymen beside them, those who knew the inside story and were enjoying the show, to ask what was going on.
Most who knew nothing of the situation, some of whom did not even recognize