The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard had been wrong, Oberyn Martell was not the only other guest present at the royal table. Lord Varys the Master of Whisperers was also in attendance, speaking in a low tone to the king as Stannis and Lyanna arrived at the royal pavilion. Stannis sensed the Lord Commander stiffening beside him when he noticed Varys.
"Lord Stannis Baratheon and his lady wife Lady Lyanna of House Stark, Your Grace," Ser Gerold Hightower announced.
The king waved off the Lord Commander with a dismissive flick of his hand, his attention solely focused on his Master of Whisperers and whatever it was the man was whispering in his ears. Stannis and Lyanna remained standing, waiting for the king to acknowledge their presence.
"Father," Rhaegar Targaryen opened his mouth. "Cousin Stannis is here."
Lyanna was startled, it did not escape Stannis' notice. Startled to hear Rhaegar's voice again? Or startled that Rhaegar had called him 'Cousin'? Perhaps both, Stannis thought.
"Yes, yes, I know," the king replied to his son in a querulous tone. "I still have eyes. And ears. I am not deaf or blind yet, even if that's the way you prefer me to be."
The king's greeting to Stannis, however, was warmer, to Stannis' great surprise. He stood up from his seat and clasped Stannis on both shoulders. "Here, come sit next to me," the king said, pointing to the empty seat on his right. The queen's seat. Stannis hesitated. "Your Grace -"
Varys interrupted. "It is so sad that Her Grace the queen cannot be with us for the feast tonight. Alas, the day's festivities has quite worn her out."
It was the first time Stannis had heard the Spider's voice from close quarters, and he despised and distrusted it from that first listen. The young Prince Viserys was also not at the table. His seat, now empty, had been between Varys and Oberyn Martell.
"Well, sit! What are you waiting for?" The king's tone suddenly turned cross and impatient, as quick as lightning. Stannis glanced at his wife, and the king noticed. "Your wife can sit next to Varys. He will look after her. He is very entertaining, she will not be bored. She will not be bored at all, I can assure you," the king said, laughing a thin, reedy laugh.
For some reason, that felt more like a threat than a reassurance to Stannis. Lyanna gave his hand a quick squeeze, nodded, and started walking to take her seat. Stannis did the same.
He was acutely conscious of Rhaegar Targaryen sitting on the other side of him. Princess Elia was sitting next to her husband, her attention completely focused on the food on her plate. The prince smiled gravely, and was about to say something to Stannis when the king snapped. "I want Stannis sitting next to me so that I can speak with him, not so you can monopolize him like you try to monopolize everything and everyone else."
Rhaegar's expression was unchanged, but his voice betrayed some of the turmoil inside. "Father, I was only about to express my condolences to Cousin Stannis for his brother's death."
"His brother has been dead for months. His brother, who is also your cousin. Your Cousin Robert. You obviously care so much you waited this long to express your condolences," the king smirked.
What was causing this undercurrent of hostility between the king and his son? His heir. It troubled Stannis deeply, and yet he did not know why. It was none of his concern.
"You are right, Father. It was very amiss of me," the prince replied, his tone gentle and conciliatory. That, however, only seemed to increase the king's wrath.
"Do not try to humor me! I am not an addled-brain creature you need to appease with soft words to shut me up, all the while you're laughing at me behind my back."
"No one is laughing at you, Father," Princess Elia spoke for the first time.
"Your husband and his friends are," the king scoffed. "His friends all the high and mighty lords, and his friends in the Kingsguard. Perhaps I should rename it the Princesguard. They would die for their precious, precious prince before they would die for me." He stared at Princess Elia and grinned, a deeply satisfied grin, as if he was reveling in some dark secret only he knew. "He's laughing at you too, you know. Your husband. Mark my word. We're both laughingstocks to him and his friends."
"Your Grace, perhaps you would like to tell Lord Stannis about the painting you found of his father Lord Steffon as a babe?" Varys suddenly interrupted. He had been observing and listening to the king's tirade, his face betraying nothing. Stannis wondered why Varys had chosen that particular moment to intervene.
"Ah, yes. It is of Cousin Steffon soon after his birth," the king said to Stannis. He was smiling now, his wrath seemingly already forgotten.
"Was my father brought to King's Landing soon after his birth?" Stannis asked. "I did not know that." His father had been born at Storm's End, Stannis knew, Maester Cressen, then a young maester fresh from the Citadel the one delivering him. But perhaps he had been taken as a babe to King's Landing, to be presented to his grandfather the late King Aegon.
The king shook his head. "No, no. Grandfather sent someone from court to Storm's End to paint him and aunt Rhaelle soon after the birth. He had the Baratheon look, of course, your father, not Targaryen, with that black hair of his. It was so thick and black, you could not miss it, even in a painting."
The ferocity of his desire to see this painting was disquieting to Stannis. This painting of his father and his grandmother. The grandmother he had never met. The father who had been dead for years. He could not recall the last time he had wanted something this intensely. But the king did not offer to show him the painting, and it was not his place to ask.
The king was huddled close to Varys again, the two of them speaking in low voices, ignoring everyone else. Stannis took advantage of the lull in the conversation to sneak a glance at his wife. She was deep in conversation with Oberyn Martell, a pleasant and enjoyable conversation, it would seem so, from both their expressions. What could they possibly be talking about? Stannis wondered. He struggled to think of a subject that would interest them both.
Horse-riding turned out to be the answer. They were talking about the first horse they had learned to ride. It struck Stannis suddenly that he had never asked Lyanna about her first horse. Or who had taught her to ride. Or if she had missed riding in the woods around Winterfell.
I will ask her all that, and more, he resolved.
Oberyn Martell mystified Stannis. Was it possible that Princess Elia's brother was ignorant of Lyanna's identity as the woman Rhaegar Targaryen had crowned as queen and love and beauty, bypassing his own wife? That seemed highly unlikely to Stannis, and yet Oberyn Martell's courtesy towards Lyanna seemed to indicate that. No, not just courtesy, he was obviously taking a great delight in her company, listening to her words with rapt attention, smiling, laughing and being completely charming.
It was only after Stannis realized that his eyes were not the only pair of eyes watching Oberyn and Lyanna that he finally understood what Oberyn Martell was doing. Rhaegar Targaryen was watching them too, watching them with his sad, mournful eyes, looking downcast.
How dare you make use of her, he wanted to shake both of them and shout. Rhaegar and Oberyn both. Leave her out of whatever games you are playing, whatever grudges you hold towards each other. But causing a scene would only humiliate Lyanna further, Stannis knew, so he held his tongue. For now.
And who was Rhaegar to look sad and mournful? Another thought struck Stannis. He was Lyanna's husband, not Rhaegar. He was the father of the child she was carrying.
He is the man she had once loved, Stannis' own voice replied in his head, mocking, and full of scorn. Do not pretend to forget.
He is also another woman's husband, still yearning for another man's wife, Stannis countered. Where is his respect for the vows we all took? Stannis turned away from watching Lyanna and Oberyn, and stared at the crown prince. Who could not meet Stannis' gaze and looked away, turning to his own wife, suddenly asking her a question about the tourney earlier that day. Princess Elia replied without much interest, possibly knowing that the question was only her husband's way of finding a distraction.
She is no fool, cousin. Your wife.
"Why, Oberyn, you have been monopolizing Lyanna the whole night. Stannis might have cause to be jealous," the king suddenly spoke, startling Stannis. "Or someone else might be," the king continued, his tone more malicious than playful this time.
Oberyn Martell laughed. "Forgive me, Lord Stannis, I was enjoying my conversation with your delightful wife very much." He paused, the laughter gone not only from his voice, but also from his eyes as he continued. "But Your Grace, who else besides Lady Lyanna's husband would be jealous?"
"Don't ask questions you already know the answers to," was the king's cryptic reply. A long silence greeted the king's remark.
"When will you depart for Storm's End, Lord Stannis?" Princess Elia finally broke the silence.
"After dawn tomorrow, Your Grace," Stannis replied.
"I hope you and Lady Lyanna have enjoyed your time in King's Landing," she continued.
Varys interrupted, saving Stannis from having to reply to the question. He most certainly had not enjoyed his time in King's Landing.
"I am sure we will see more of Lord Stannis in court, now that he is the Lord of Storm's End. And perhaps … Lady Lyanna too?" Varys asked, in a delicate tone.
"My place is at Storm's End if my husband is away, Lord Varys," Lyanna replied. Stannis marveled at her composure.
"Of course, of course," Varys replied, his tone obsequious.
The king stood up suddenly. "Well, go on with the feast. I'm going to show Stannis that painting of his father."
"Perhaps Lady Lyanna would like to see it too, Father?" Princess Elia said in a gentle voice.
"Nonsense!" The king snapped. "Why would she want to see a painting of a man she has never met?" He waved impatiently in Stannis' direction. "Come on, come on, I don't have all night."
Stannis stood up and followed the king, turning back at the last moment to glance at his wife. Her composure seemed to be deserting her, she had a haunted look on her face. But she smiled when she noticed him looking at her, and nodded slightly.