He emptied another cup of wine. His headache subsided as more alcohol reached his bloodstream. Every so often, the pain increased. Certain situations or people brought it on: Certain names, phrases, and houses. No matter what he did, the pain never went away.
Alcohol didn't take the pain away, it just made it easier to ignore. He had tried painkillers, but only poppies worked.
"It wouldn't be a good idea to fight tomorrow with a hangover," he heard a velvety voice say beside him.
"I'll take the risk. Rhaenys," he said, looking at the newcomer.
She walked over to him, took a silver cup, and poured wine from the jug. The wine flowed, filling the cup.
"There are rumors about you, one man against five," she said. Her violet eyes had tiny brown flecks.
"They're true," he said.
"Oh, I believe they are. The mountain saw it for himself." Throwing a wooden chair thirty yards was something few could do. Even then, the chair only stopped because it hit Ser Gregor.
The crowd in the box continued to discuss the prince's strength.
"Perhaps I'll let myself get carried away," the man said.
She let out a charming giggle. Jaehaerys felt her hand caress his thigh.
"Don't you want to show me what else you can do with your body?" she asked. Under other circumstances, the prince would have accepted without hesitation. But he was betrothed to someone and was inside the Red Fortress, where the slightest indiscretion would reach the king's ears.
"You'll see tomorrow when I fight Daemon," he said, subtly removing her hand.
Rhaenys clenched her teeth as she forced a smile. It was fake, but to anyone else, it could have passed for a genuine, beautiful smile.
"It promises to be interesting," she said, not mentioning his refusal but continuing to talk. "You're fighting for Daenerys."
"It's Daemon who's looking for a fight," he said, hastily finishing his wine.
"I always thought I would marry you," she said contemplatively. "I dreamed of it since I was a little girl, and now...you're marrying someone else." Her voice sounded bitter as she directed the reproach toward him.
"Did you think of me when you were with Gerold?" the prince asked.
Rhaenys was silent for a long moment. Her eyes widened in confusion. She and Gerold had shared a dance, and afterwards, he had stolen a kiss from her. She remembered vomiting afterwards
"He asked you to come to his cell. He wanted motivation to fight me afterwards," the prince said, leaving her to return to the box. He regretted that the alcohol was still affecting his speech. But he hadn't said anything he hadn't thought before.
To him, his niece's love life or sex life was irrelevant. He understood the hidden meaning in the girl's words: "Can't you fight for me?" She seemed to want to shout at him. He couldn't find the strength to tell her that she wouldn't come with Harrenhal and the lands. It was better to pretend that he cared about her sleeping with DarkStar. That should stop her.
"My thanks, Prince Jaehaerys," he heard a lilting voice say before returning to his seat next to Daenerys.
He looked at his betrothed. Daemon now occupied the seat to her left. Not too close. Brandon had his eyes on both Daenerys and her nephew. She was uncomfortable, and he could tell by her body language. It was the same as when they had shared a dance.
"You have nothing to worry about, Lady Tyrell," he said.
His brother Viserys's betrothed was beautiful. She had brown hair that fell in waves over her shoulders. Her skin was white, and her eyes were almond-shaped. She wore a red dress that revealed just enough of her cleavage to avoid being vulgar.
"Still, I am grateful," she said, nodding at his words. He added nothing more. "My brother is very dear to me, and you saved his life." Margaery continued.
"You exaggerate," he said carefully. "Anyone would have intervened."
"There were knights closer by, but you intervened," she continued gratefully. "Viserys seems to be waiting for me. I hope we can continue this conversation in a less crowded place," she said, curtsying slightly before walking toward Viserys.
'Continue what?' thought Jaehaerys. He watched as Daemon stood up and extended a hand to Daenerys; he intended her to follow him. Daenerys seemed unsure of what to do. Jaehaerys considered approaching and intervening, but he was curious about his sister's actions.
She shook her head. Lyanna's son's face darkened. With the grace of an angry lion, he withdrew. Their eyes met, and Jaehaerys could see pure hatred in his.
He walked through the box, ignoring the whispers directed at him, and sat down next to Daenerys. He caught Aegon looking at him with an inquisitive expression, as if analyzing him.
"He looked angry," he said to his sister, ignoring the heir.
"He's furious," she whispered. It was barely audible among the voices of the crowd. He looked at her, her eyes filling with tears.
He took her hand in comfort. She shuddered, but did not pull away. His fingers traced circles on the back of her hand.
Back at the tournament, Ser Loras waited for the joust between Dayne and Clegane to end.
The Hound and the Sword of the Morning broke eight lances before the king's guard emerged victorious.
The final was between Ser Arthur and Ser Loras: Two skilled knights, separated by nearly two decades in age. The murmurs grew louder, and people began to place bets.
To the surprise of many, the joust was quick.
Loras's first lance struck Arthur squarely in the chest. Screams from the ladies filled the arena.
Ser Arthur could barely stay on his horse. His back hit the horse's hindquarters. But he managed to stay on.
One more lance, Arthur passed Loras's shield and struck him in the side. The young man was not so lucky, falling from his horse with a thud.
The crowd applauded, including Loras. He accepted his defeat gracefully and praised Ser Arthur. The maidens sighed his name. The king's guard rode up to a box where he found his niece.
Lady Lyarra Dayne was named queen of love and beauty. Her name gave a clue as to who her father was. Jaehaerys looked at the Lady. She was accompanied by another woman who seemed older but was just as beautiful. It was her mother, Ashara Dayne.
Many whispered that it was either Brandon or Eddard. Some even dared to say that they were both responsible for sleeping with her at Harrenhal. Ashara kept her mouth closed. Elia requested that Rhaegar legitimize her as a Dayne, even though she had no right to Starfall.
The girl was just as beautiful as her mother. Her eyes were different colors: one purple and one gray. Each eye had a little of the other's color. The girl received equal parts praise and ridicule. Despite her origins, nobles fought for her hand just as they had once fought for her mother's.
"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Daenerys asked.
"She is," he replied sincerely. "If the Targaryens didn't exist, she would be the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms," which seemed to please her a little.
Although he wasn't completely honest. Lady Dayne's beauty was more seductive. Whereas the Targaryens were closer to a perfect appearance. They weren't the same, and he would have a hard time choosing between them.
"Daemon always stares at her. There are even rumors that he slept with her." Jaehaerys was surprised by this. "Would you sleep with her?" she asked. Her eyes were still sad. He could tell she felt insecure.
"I'm promised to you. I don't love you, but I won't dishonor you," he said. What he didn't admit was that before he knew about the engagement, his eyes had been on the Dornish girl. She would be the second of Eddard's daughters he slept with.
"What if I said it was okay for you to sleep with any woman? Would you sleep with her?" Those words sounded strange. Jaehaerys didn't understand her game.
"The idea seems to bother you, so no," he answered, but his answer did not appease her. But it didn't worsen her mood, either.
"We'll see," she said.
"See what?" Women were complicated beings.
"Make sure you win tomorrow," she said, squeezing his hand, words he never thought would come out of her mouth.
He shook his head as he walked her back to her room. People had begun to return to the castle for the banquet.
'You lose before the fight, Daemon?'