Shaena ran straight into his arms, hiding her face in his chest, weeping softly. Rhaegar reckoned she had been given quite the scolding to have her in such a state. He held her, rubbing her back soothingly. Her moods had turned strange. Rhaegar had hoped that time would help, but Shaena was as lost as ever, barely able to string two words together and quite unlike herself.

Pycelle had warned that she might never come back to herself. Rhaegar was starting to believe the man. Yet, for all that, it was an impossibility that he should give up on his sister. "There, there," he said, "you got into quite the scrape." She trembled. "Are you well?" Shaena looked up at that, lilac eyes shining.

The Queen entered, followed by one of the twp Septas forever in her company. "And how say you that she introduced herself?" his mother was asking, no doubt wishing to know everything about her daughter's safe arrival.

"Lyanna Stark, Your Grace, and with her was a Howland Reed." His sister pulled away from him at the mention of those names. Rhaegar watched as she walked to their mother, taking her by the hand, tugging gently.

"Lyanna Stark," the Queen repeated. Shaena tugged her hand once more. "What is it, child?" the mother addressed the daughter. "Do you wish for something?"

But Shaena rarely spoke, no matter her mother's coaxing and if she did it was mere broken words that held no meaning. Yet her desire was understandable enough. She wanted to see Lyanna Stark. Rhaegar wanted to see Lyanna Stark as well. He wanted to know what sort of woman would be so kind to his sister, when most of the others had made a fine art of avoiding Shaena. Someone had put it about that her illness was not gone, and that whoever approached her would suffer the same fate. It was ludicrous, but the power of rumour worked very well.

Likely as not, their mother had understood as well. The Queen gave him a short nod. "The feast shall start soon. I do not wish to burden you, my son, but knowing your sister, her recent escapade should only be repeated if I left her in some other's care."

"I do not mind, mother." Shaena was fairly jumping up and down. Out of all the things to have retained, her joy in the prospect of attending a feast was one of the stranger qualities that was both comforting and out of place.

His sister came back to his side, wrapping her arms around one of his. She leaned against him. "Not yet, Shaena," he laughed. "There is some time before the feast starts." She pouted but sat down.

"Shall you play for us this evening?" his mother questioned, sitting down on his other side. "Shaena would like it." Shaena always liked it when he played, ever since he learned. "And I daresay all the maidens in the hall shall be weeping once you are done."

"Far be it from me to desire such," he chuckled.

The hours passed spent in the comfortable company of his mother and sister. Shaena put her head on his shoulder and listened to the quiet conversation between him and their mother. He wished, from the depths of his heart, that she had been well. He wished they could be talking to the lords together. It was difficult to plan every little detail on his own, when Shaena had been indispensable to him. The gods knew he could not ask Daeron to help. He was just a child.

Shaena, on the other hand, had always been more than interested in political matters. Ever since they were children. She would be the one crawling on their father's lap and pretending to fall asleep there only so she could listen to the conversations around her. He had been the dreamer. Despite the responsibility placed on his shoulders, it was only later that he became interested in the fate of the realm. And it was Shaena to whom he spoke of it. In fact, it had been his sister that planted in his mind what he was about to embark upon.

They had spoken of it often and oftener as their father's madness grew. Once upon a time, the king had been tolerable. Duskendale had changed that. Aerys Targaryen had, since infancy, if rumours merited any credit, a fiery temper, given to tantrums and always displeased with something or another. And he had been raised to think he was entitled to anything he wished for. It was no wonder then that he practiced so little restraint. And if in the beginning his charm had won his many an admirer, the enthusiasm soon waned. Aerys had not been made to be king anymore than Rhaegar himself. The crown had more or less fallen in his lap by some dark, humourless twist of fate, because the better men were all gone and he was the only choice left.

What a choice that had been. Rhaegar wished someone else, anyone else, had survived the tragedy that claimed most of his family. At least then life might have been a bit easier. Alas it was not to be so. He had been given an existence by the gods and it was his duty to see it through to the best of his abilities, whether he was thrilled by it or not.

"What are you thinking about with such a look upon your face?" Rhaella questioned, touching a hand to his cheek. "Can you not allow things to just be, my son, without contemplating every little thing?"

"Of course, mother." He attempted a reassuring smile. His mother seemed pleased with it. Shaena stirred against him. He hadn't even realised she had fallen asleep. "I believe it is time to go."

"So it is," the woman agreed, leaning over to coax her daughter into the waking world. "Come, Shaena, open your eyes. It is time we went down to the feast."

That caught his sister's attention.

Lyanna did not know whether she should weep or laugh. Robert's grasp on her hand tightened and she was tempted to scowl. How to extricate herself from the situation without causing too much trouble? That was the question. And unfortunately her mind held no answer. If she pulled swiftly away she would attract attention. If she remained, Robert would grow even more assured in his impression that she cared for him even a little bit.

"I pray you, my lady, tell me of your father's decision," Robert pressed on, despite her earlier reluctance. "There should be no secrets between us." Well, he certainly made no secret of his transgressions. Lyanna, on the other hand, would happily keep her secrets to herself.

"I have told you, I know not what my father's decision is. He shall write to your lord father and then you shall know." Oh, how surprised he would be at the refusal. Lyanna could barely hold back a smile of amusement. Well, at least she hoped it would turn out so anyway.

"You are cruel," the gallant offered in reply, trying to pull her hand to his chest.

"I daresay my aunt is signalling me over," Lyanna interrupted him. Her aunt had looked at her, but Branda had looked with a question upon her face rather than a summon. A question was good enough for Lyanna. "I must away, my lord."

And she somehow managed to pry her hand out of his grip. Robert would have fain followed her, she perceived, but Lyanna quickened her pace and was in the presence of her aunt before Robert might decide what to do. She dearly wished he might understand that she had no desire for his presence anymore than she desired the plague. That would be the day, she chuckled to herself.

Once near enough to her aunt, the woman caught her by the arm and whispered to her, "Have you by any chance met Her Grace the Princess, niece?"

"Aye, I saw her at the stables, and, sure she had been lost, took her back to the keep." Her eyes involuntarily searched the hall for Howland Reed. She found him at a table with her brothers. They did not notice her attention.

"Then you should know that you are being looked for," her aunt informed her. "You were sleeping the first time the Queen sent for you and I hadn't the heart to wake you." What a loss, Lyanna thought with a small amount of alarm. "Fear not, child. She was not angered. Instead she requested that you might go to her during the feast."

Why hadn't anyone told her anything? Lyanna looked down at herself and grimaced. "You should have woken me."

"I was assured that there would be no need." The reply did not do much to put her at ease. Lyanna accepted it however with a small nod. "Mayhap you would like to go to her now."

"I do not know." Lyanna looked at the high table. The Queen was speaking to her eldest son. Dare she appear before them? She might have aided the Princess, but that did not guarantee very much save for an initial hearing.