It was the last day of the tourney marking the Crown Prince's nameday. Benjen had been defeated on the first day, having the misfortune to be matched with Jaime Lannister in the first round. Brandon had made it as far as the last four, only to be defeated by Jon Connington. Jaime Lannister, the boy Kingsguard who had made defeating his other opponents looked so easy, turned out to be not much of a threat to Oberyn Martell, who managed to unhorse him only a few minutes into their battle.
The final joust between Jon Connington and Oberyn Martell, however, was a different affair altogether. Lyanna thought it would never end. The two men traded blows after blows, broke lances after lances, from midday until the sun was almost setting.
"It's almost dark. Surely the king will call a halt to this," Brandon said at one point.
"His Grace is enjoying the spectacle," Lyanna's father had replied, his tone harsh. "No doubt he would enjoy it more if fire is somehow involved. Perhaps they could introduce flaming lances for future tourneys."
"Father." Brandon shot a warning glance to his father. Lyanna could not decipher the looks passing between her father and her eldest brother. She caught Ned and Catelyn staring at Brandon and her father too, their expressions as mystified as her own. Only Benjen seemed oblivious to the tension, his attention focused on Jon Connington and Oberyn Martell, still battling it out on the field.
Lyanna's husband was oblivious too. Stannis had tired of the battle ages ago, Lyanna knew, his eyes fixed on the field where the two men were fighting, but his thoughts wandering far, far away. She touched his arm lightly. He turned to look at her. Brought his head closer to hers, and whispered, "Do you want to leave?"
Leave? Surely they could not leave before the match was over, Lyanna thought. Jon Connington was one of Stannis' own bannermen, House Connington one of the houses sworn to House Baratheon. It would be taken as a grave insult if the Lord of Storm's End and his lady wife left the tourney ground before the battle ended. Her husband must be well-aware of this. She studied his expression. He was studiously avoiding her eyes. She shook her head and said, "No, I'm sure it will be over soon."
It was not, in fact, over, until more than an hour later, when Jon Connington, his reflexes slower after a long, hard-fought battle, was finally too slow to take the reins to control his horse. He fell down to the ground, and Oberyn Martell pounced immediately.
"Too bad," Brandon said. "If Jon Connington had won, he could have named Prince Rhaegar as his queen of love and beauty." A few knights and squires sitting in the tent with them snickered and laughed along with Brandon. Lyanna stared at her brother uncomprehendingly. She did not understand what the men had found so funny.
Oberyn Martell was riding his horse straight to the royal pavilion. He did not stop until he reached Princess Elia. He was naming his own sister as queen of love and beauty. His eyes were not looking at his sister as he was presenting the bouquet of flowers to her, however. His eyes were defiantly staring at his sister's husband. At Rhaegar Targaryen. Staring at him with a fierce, piercing look.
You shamed my sister at Harrenhal, Lyanna imagined that look saying. She was so transfixed watching what was unfolding at the royal pavilion, she did not realize that she herself was being watched and stared by other pairs of eyes. That's her, Lyanna knew each and every one of them was thinking. That's the woman the prince shamed his wife for.
Stannis asking her earlier if she wanted to leave made sense now. He must have known something like this could happen. She cursed herself for her lack of foresight. She turned to look at him, and finally realized that the eyes of the crowd were not only staring at her, they were staring at her husband too. That made her angrier, for reasons she could not explain even to herself. Leave him be, she wanted to shout to them. He had nothing to do with it. His only sin was being a dutiful brother, marrying the woman his dead brother was betrothed to.
The crowd was cheering for Elia and Oberyn Martell. Princess Elia accepted the bouquet of flowers from her brother, and kissed him gently on one cheek. Lyanna breathed a sigh of relief, it was finally over. Benjen was asking Brandon who he would have named as queen of love and beauty. Brandon took Catelyn's hand and kissed it. "My wife, of course. Who else?" He was about to kiss her full on the lips, when Catelyn shied away. Brandon laughed, "Oh, there's no need to be bashful, Cat. We're among friends and family here."
"What about you, Ned?" Benjen turned to his other brother.
"I was not in the tourney," Ned replied.
"Yes, but if you had been?" Ned looked lost in thoughts. Was he thinking of some girl? Lyanna wondered. Ned had danced with Ashara Dayne at Harrenhal, but had not spoken of her at all after that. At least not to Lyanna.
After a while, Benjen got tired of waiting for Ned's answer, and answered his own question. "I would name the queen."
"The queen? You mean Queen Rhaella?" Brandon asked.
"Yes, Queen Rhaella," Benjen replied.
"Why, Ben?" Lyanna asked her brother.
"Because she looks so sad. And -"
Lyanna's father interrupted before Benjen could finish. "Yes, do that, and have the king throw you in the dungeon. Or even take your head. Foolish boy," he hissed angrily. "Foolish, foolish boy. Who do you think you are, to name the king's wife as your queen of love and beauty?"
Benjen looked contrite, but he did not answer his father's question. He turned to Ned to escape his father's wrathful look. "Well, have you made up your mind yet, Ned?"
Ned was ready with his reply this time. "I would name Lyanna. People should only name their own family. Sisters, or wives. It makes things too ... complicated otherwise." Ned's words were greeted with an awkward silence. Rhaegar Targaryen had named another woman, a woman not his wife.
Catelyn tried to defuse the tension. "Well, some men are not blessed with sisters. Or wives."
Brandon laughed. "Some men are not as lucky as I am." He turned to Stannis. "What about you, Stannis? Who would you name?"
Lyanna knew her husband had seldom been on tourney lists. Stannis was looking at Brandon with a curious expression on his face. Lyanna was worried he was about to go on a rant about the frivolity of tourneys. She did not want her family making fun of him behind his back later. She could not bear the thought of Brandon and Benjen, and perhaps even her father, laughing at him, mocking his self-seriousness. She quickly took her husband's hand. "He'll name me, of course. His wife. Won't you, Stannis?"
Stannis was still staring at Brandon, ignoring her question. Lyanna pressed her fingers harder on his palm. He did not flinch, but his gaze finally found her. "Yes," he replied, with just the one word.
"Lord Baratheon," a voice interrupted.
"Lord Commander," Stannis returned the greeting. Ser Gerold Hightower, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard was standing in front of their tent.
"Lord Stark," Ser Gerold nodded to Lyanna's father.
"Ser Gerold, how may we be of service?" Her father's voice sounded irritated. Lyanna wondered if her father had resented the Lord Commander greeting Stannis first.
"His Grace the king has invited Lord Stannis Baratheon and his wife Lady Lyanna to attend the feast at the royal pavilion."
No, Lyanna was screaming inside. I have been presented to the king. What does he want now?
Rhaegar would be on that table. And Princess Elia.
"Such an great honor, for my daughter and her husband. Tell me, Ser Gerold, who else has the king bestowed this honor to tonight?"
"Only Prince Oberyn, Lord Stark. His Grace said he only wants family at the royal table tonight," Ser Gerold replied. "And of course Prince Oberyn is family by marriage."
"And Lord Baratheon is the son of His Grace's dear cousin," Lyanna's father nodded his head a few times. He turned to Stannis and Lyanna. "Well, you must not keep the king waiting."