JON

He didn't know whether the wine had gotten to his head or not, however he knew that he couldn't remove his eyes from her. She was sat at the table with the various noble kids, far from him. She glanced around, searching for somebody, he assumed, when her eyes found his. She looked left just before standing and step by step advanced towards him. She appeared to be industrious on attempting to get him stuck in an unfortunate situation. Lady Stark would not be delighted in the smallest on the off chance that she investigated and discovered him chatting with the princess.

Something brushed against his leg and looked under the table to see his flawless white direwolf under the table, gazing apathetically at him. "Hungry again?" He gazed toward the table to find that a large portion of honeyed chicken. He was going to sever a leg, however had different considerations, and apprehended the entire winged creature, dropping it between his legs for his little companion to devour.

"I would have wagered you were feeding the do hounds that were about, yet I see I would have painfully lost." The entertain voice of none other than Miranna Baratheon called to him. She herself was wearing an obsidian hued dress with sleeves that adhered to her like a subsequent skin and a high lace neck-line. Looking out from under the dress were a couple of small heeled slippers, yet judging from the manner in which she awkwardly moved when walking, regardless they caused her torment. "May I sit?" It rose as uncertain and Jon urgently needed to state no, yet he ended up reluctantly nodding 'yes'. All the smoke in the room had made his eyes water, and his he raised his palms to rub them. With hazy eyes, he went after his cup of wine and took another drink.

A snarl emanated from under the table and Jon looked under to see that one of the bitches had gotten the aroma of the chicken and was yapping at Ghost. The dark mutt with long yellow eyes yapped at Ghost once more until Ghost stood and bared his teeth at her, causing the bitch to have apprehensions and walked off, leaving Ghost to keep devouring the remains in serenity.

"He's very charming. Unnerving. However delightful." Jon took a gander at Miranna like she had a bolt through her head before laughing discreetly. He'd heard others discussing how they were wild monsters, yet not one had said anything close as gullible as that. "Does he have a name?"

"Ghost." Came his short answer. He felt at fault for not saying more and she appeared to see his absence of talk too. "Appears to be fitting. Superior to anything I would have thought of. I would've named him cloth." At that Jon smiled. He delighted in this young lady tremendously more than her twin sibling, who Jon however thought was a privilege and royal prick. Miranna appeared to be the definite opposite of Joffrey. Other than the elegant characteristics of course.

Jon looked at his cup and afterward back at Miranna, to see she was gazing at the cup of wine too. "Would you like some?" She gazed wide peered toward, mouth hung open idiotically. "Goodness, well, yes, however it's yours." Jon drove the cup over to her and she began shaking her head until she saw him swipe the cup from the squire close to him. "Are you certain it's okay?" Jon just gestured and nearly burst into an attack of intoxicated snickers as she downed the cup of wine and poured another and brought down that on as well. "Try not to drink excessively, My Lady." He chastised, however it wasn't well thought out as he hiccupped and smiled immature. "You should quit calling me that."

"Calling you what." She rolled her eyes and stated, "My Lady. In addition to the fact that it is infuriating it's not by any means my correct title." Jon gazed dope like at her for a minute, not understanding what she implied. "A lady of honourable birth is known as a Lady."

"But on the off chance that they're a princess."

Jon took a swallow of air. Truth is stranger than fiction. She was Miranna Baratheon. Girl of Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister. How might he have missed something so trifling? "My apologies, princess." Miranna unmistakably scowled. "It's fine. But don't call me that either. My title has no significance."

"Then what do I call you?"

"By my name of course."

It wasn't long after that when Miranna pardoned herself, in all probability because of her unclear thinking, taking a full cup of wine with her. She was heavily swaying and her cheeks were stained red, yet Jon let her go. What was the purpose of pursuing a drunken princess if all he got has a glare from Lady Stark?


Miranna

Miranna felt like her head was going to part in two and douse the ground with her blood.

The only thing she recollected about the prior night was that she had swiped a flask of summerwine from a close by table and withdrew to her chambers. What occurred after that was a puzzle yet for reasons unknown she had woken up the following morning under the hides of her bed. She could have sworn she had nodded off on the floor, however of course, the cool stone could have been the cloudiness of the wine over her eyes.

On her right was Arya Stark and on the left was a gathering of snickering banshees. Their babble made Miranna need to pry her own head open. She was simply happy that Septa Mordane had taken to respecting Myrcella's needle work and not hers. The lines were warped and what should be little fowls wound up looking progressively like a knot with three stick legs.

"What do you think of Joff, sister? He's very gallant, don't you think?" Miranna got the finish of what Sansa was stating and agreed. Her brother was as charming as they come.

"Jon says he looks like a girl." Arya stated, and Miranna used each ounce of her will to not snicker, however futile as a little and un-polite grunt sounded, making Arya grin and the other peer at her, stunned.

It didn't take long for kind and beguiling Sansa to recuperate and murmur, answering with a fast, "Poor Jon. He gets jealous because he's a bastard"

"He's our brother." Miranna flinched at Arya's words, not because of the heaviness of them, but the volume that made her ears ache in protest. The hard essence of Septa Mordane gobbled up to scowl at them as though her face was cut to do as such. "What are you talking about, children?"

"Our half-brother," Sansa murmured softy, correcting Arya before answering with, "Arya and I were remarking on how pleased we are to have the princesses with us today."

Miranna was nearly at her limit when Septa had asked Arya to introduce her lines. Frenzy coursed through Miranna and she flipped around her lines, concealing the monstrosity from the Septa's vision. "Arya. Arya. Arya. This will not do. This will not do at all."

The shriek of Arya's seat was sufficient to make Miranna quit disentangling the back of her lines and turn upward. At the entryway with small tears sliding down her face with Septa shouting after her was Arya.

"By your leave, My Lady." Myrcella was uncertain yet Miranna nodded firmly. There was a scornful remark from Arya and a 'humph' from Septa. Miranna gazed at the entryway, looking after her before standing, not bothering to address Septa and pursued Arya, who she could her the strides of at the base of the stairs. Her head was at that point screaming but she went along anyway.