Chapter 7: Prologue's End

113 AC

The ball was tastefully exquisite. This one was neither the largest nor the most lavish, but it did well at showcasing the royal splendor. The many nobles in attendance mingled in the Great Hall, eating, jesting, and laughing behind a silk fan, and there was plenty of dancing too.

King Viserys hosted events such as this often. If nothing else, all these balls meant my dancing skills were well practiced. I even learned many more unique styles of dancing.

I didn't really like the commotion of such events, but unfortunately, balls and feasts were simply the best opportunity to build connections. How many of my new beneficial acquaintances were met during a ball like this?

Though it would be a long time before I could attend another such event.

I took my time to enjoy what would likely be my final ball in a while. In less than one week, Ser Steffon would knight me. Five-and-ten was a bit earlier than I expected, but hardly uncommon, as he had chosen to knight both Harry and me at once.

After the knighting, there would be no obligation for me to stay in the city, as that marked the end of my fosterage under the royal family as it was. The next time I visited, King Viserys would welcome me as a Velaryon knight instead of his ward.

Time flies.

Seven years. I was sent here as a boy of eight, and after seven years, I would come home as an annointed knight of the realm. It still didn't feel real.

I excused myself from the ball, as the night was marching on. I still had to pack my belongings. My sword. A real sword, heavy and sharp made from castle-forged steel. My mace. Commisioned to the best master smith in the street of steel. My lute, which I finally learned to play after years of blood and pain. All my clothes and letters.

Came to think of it, I didn't have many belongings. Perhaps I could just postpone the packing for another day or two.

I was passing through godswood when I heard the cries of a woman. I thought to dismiss it at first, but the chivalrous part of me overcame the rational part. I sighed as I made my way to the sound. Damn my honour. If it turned out to be a ghost, then I'd just run away screaming.

I was expecting a lost little lady at most, but I certainly didn't expect to find the princess of the realm crying alone under an oaken tree.

"Corwyn? What are you—?

She was startled. When I thought about it; I had never seen her cry before. "I was only passing through. I thought I heard a woman's cries and thought to investigate." I opened my palms. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you, your grace. I'll make my leave."

She shook her head. "No, stay. You're already here." Her eyes were red and puffy, and she was still sobbing slightly. She gestured for me to sit beside her as she composed herself.

"What are you doing in the godswood at so late in the night?" She asked me, as proper as she could make herself to be.

I shrugged. "I pass through here often if I need to make my way from the Great Hall to the White Tower."

That, and I did try to commune with the Old Gods more than once. Unfortunately, I didn't know anything about their religion, and the few people who knew about it south of the neck had no reason to speak of it fairly.

I did know their religion requires a white tree called Weirwood for worship, something that Red Keep's godswood lacked. Perhaps my effort was pointless before I could start.

Rhaenyra was silent after that. Looking down on the leaves under her feet, deep in thought.

"How long do we know each other, Corwyn?"

The question caught me off guard, and I thought over it as quickly as possible. "Ten years, if you count our first meeting. What is this about?"

She smiled. "No. It's just strange to think we've known each other for so long. We shared so many duties and lessons together and even flew together. I don't think I share such closeness with anyone else in this keep, and to think even you will leave soon, it makes a lady sad."

I stared at her in the eyes and decided t take a wild stab. "While I'm touched that you think so highly of me, princess, we both know that's not the reason why you're crying alone here."

She stilled. "Do you know of it?"

I sat on the grass nearby. "No. I only know you left early from the ball tonight. What you do afterward, well, if you just need someone to speak, then I suppose I can do that."

Rhaenyra recoiled. "No, I can't tell. Not you. Not anyone. I..., I didn't know. What's right or proper. I don't know what I should do. Oh, Corwyn, I think I made a mistake, and I don't know."

I know how it feels to commit such a mistake that will haunt you for years in the future. Anyone who claims to have no regret in their life is a liar.

"Sounds difficult." I leaned my head back toward the tree. "I will not force you to share what you don't want to share, Rhae."

"I—" she seemed hesitant. "Just tonight. Let me lend your shoulder, please."

I turned my head and smiled. "Of course, princess. The stars are beautiful tonight."

So there we sat together, the princess and the squire, under the canopy of the night sky.

Ser Steffon unsheathed his sword and rested the blade on my right shoulder.

"Corwyn of House Velaryon," he said in an uncharacteristic solemness, "in the name of the Warrior I charge you to be brave." He moved the sword from my right shoulder to my left and said, "in the name of the Father I charge you to be just." Back to the right. "In the name of the Mother I charge you to defend the young and innocent." The left. "In the name of the Maid I charge you to protect all women." The right. "In the name of the Smith, I charge you to be diligent in your duties." Left. "In the name of the Crone I charge you to be wise in thought and deed." Right. "In the name of the Stranger, I charge you to keep true to your vows, from this day until your last."

"I will keep to my vows." I answered.

Ser Steffon nodded. "Then rise a knight, Ser Corwyn Velaryon."

I rose from my knees and looked to the man whom I had served for more than four years.

The ceremony was a solemn affair. The sept was nearly empty at dawn. A septon and two septas were the only witnesses to two squires recently knighted by their ser in a hall illuminated by morning light."

All done, Ser Steffon took a turn to look at each of us. "I never doubted both of you would make fine knights someday. Perhaps greater than me, if you manage to rein in your insolences."

"I don't know what you're talking about, ser." I said.

Ser Steffon looked vexed. "At least now that both of you are knights, you will no longer be my trouble. Until next time, Ser Harrold, Ser Corwyn."

We watched as Ser Steffon left us, no doubt to start his duties for the day.

"That may be one of the few genuine praises I've heard from the man, and he still slipped an insult in the end. Truly an incorrigible nag." I said.

Harry looked oddly distracted. I snapped a finger in front of his face.

"Ser Harry of house Darke, are you well?"

Harry swatted my hand. "No, it's just—" he cut himself off and sighed. "What will you do now that you are a knight?"

A good question. I stiffled a yawn. "For now? A sleep. Standing vigil for an entire night sounds chivalrous, but it was tiring. I'm not sure what I'll do after the sleep. I will need to show my face at home soon, but afterwards? Who knows?"

"What of you?" I asked back.

Harry looked lost at the question. "I haven't decided completely either. I was planning to join the king's household eventually. With Ser Steffon's commendation, it should be possible. Even if I can't get a position in the king's household, mayhaps I can still serve Lord Darklyn."

"To be a royal household knight is a great honour." I said. "However, I believe a certain amount of competence and merit were expected."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "You have a plan."

"Not a plan as such, no. But what do you say about a bit of an adventure?"

"Adventure." Harry's voice was flat. "That's your plan?"

I shrugged. "We're young. What else are we young knights supposed to do, if not adventure? Going on a knightly quest, save maidens in peril."

Harry gave me a pained look, but nodded. "Why not? A few notches on my belt will improve my chances. What sort of adventure are you planning? I don't know of any maidens in peril nearby."

"Well, perhaps not quite a peril, but I do know a woman who may need help soon," I said. "Remember when you told me how Lord Darklyn would hold a tourney celebrating his daughter's nameday within a sennight? That's only six days of travel on horseback from here. Perhaps you and I can help protect the honour of your lady cousin in the tourney held in her name."

Harry looked flabbergasted. "That's your plan? To join in a tourney?"

"Also to escort you home and protect your lady cousin's honour."

It didn't take long for Harry to make his mind.

"Well, I suppose I need to return home too." Harry relented with a shrug.

"Corlys and Corwyn." Harry said as we rode out of Spicetown. The city watch offered me some guards, but I refused. "Your house has a taste for alliterations."

I chuckled. "You're not the first one to notice. I have half a mind to name a future son of mine Corleon."

Harry wrinkled his nose. "Is that even a real name?"

"It should be."

Above us, a dragon flew from the east.

"Corwyn!" I heard the shout from above. I waved to the dragon in response.

The steel-grey dragon landed a short distance away from me, sending dirt everywhere. The two men who rode the dragon dismounted gracefully and approached us.

Seasmoke had grown much larger than I remembered. When I left, it could barely lift two boys in flight. Now, it likely could bring five men without problem.

"The dragon grew faster than the rider." I said, recognizing one of the riders as my brother. The other, I didn't know.

"You might've grown a lot taller, brother, but I'm still bigger than you, and I will not suffer such mockery." Laenor said with a wide smile. He was tall, a shade under six feet mayhaps. His hair was kept long and braided, and his smile charming. "Your letter said you would return on the third moon. This is already in the middle of the fourth. Mother is cross with you."

"Ah. My apology. I was planning to return to Driftmark posthaste, but we happened to hear of the Lord Darklyn's tourney. My friend Harry thought it fit to defend his kin in the tourney, and what sort of friend would I be if I didn't aid him?" I gestured to Harry, who was doing his best to act properly. "Speaking of friends, this is my friend, Ser Harrold Darke. He was my fellow squire to Ser Steffon, as I wrote to you, and he was knighted alongside me."

I looked at my brother's companion and said, "I believe I haven't had the honour?"

The handsome man gave a respectful nod. He was taller than Laenor, and his dark brown hair was cropped short. "The honour is all mine, Ser Corwyn. My name is Ser Joffrey Lothston, merely a simple knight who found his way wandering into your father's service. Lord Laenor has spoken a lot of you."

"A Stormlander?" I asked in mild confusion. "I never heard of our house gaining the service of a knight from such a house as the Lothston. How come I never heard of this?"

My brother waved his hand. "You couldn't have heard about him yet. Father brought many of our household knights with him to the Stepstones, and there was a need to replenish the rank. Thus, Ser Joffrey joined our household two years ago." Laenor caught Ser Joffrey's eyes and his smile brightened. "As for how he came into our attention, well, there's a funny story in that. I'll tell you over dinner."

When my brother spoke of him, there was an undercurrent of fondness that, in my opinion, was too deep for someone who was simply a friend of two years. There was also the way they looked at each other that made me suspect.

I disregarded that suspicion. Now was neither the time nor the place.

"I must admit to missing the taste of home. No one in King's Landing can cook a crab half as well as our cooks."

Laenor laughed. "Then crabs you shall have. Come, brother. Let's walk together to the castle."

As Laenor led me to High Tide, he told me tales about the rest of the family.

"Laena is hale and hearty. She still spends a lot more time flying with Vhagar now and had visited Bravos and Pentos even. Mother is well too, and had taken to gardening of all things. Father hadn't returned home for quite a long time, busy with his war as he was."

I nodded. "He spoke of his war at times in his letters. And what of Laena's betrothed? The last letters I received only say he's still living here."

I was curious to meet the man who was almost to be my goodbrother.

"He still lives here. He spent most of the day in Spicetown. You might have passed him without knowing." Laenor leaned in closer and spoke in a lower tone. "Mother and Father are still looking to break the betrothal."

Laenor straightened himself and clapped. "Let's move to a happier topic. Didn't you say you went to Duskendale for a tourney? Did you do well there?"

"I participated in both the Melee and the Joust. I won the melee with a lot of effort and some luck. As for the joust, Harry and I were among the five champions, so I suppose you can count that as a victory."

As it turned out, Lord Darklyn already had all positions filled, forcing me and Harry to take a champion's spot each by ourselves. Both of us managed to keep the spot until the end of the tourney and protected Lady Lorra Darklyn's honour as the queen of love and beauty, to her delight.

Granted, Harry probably cared more about the reward and the proceedings of all his ransoms than his distant cousin's beauty. Enough coins to live comfortably for at least three years for anyone who was moderately frugal was not a small thing.

Laenor smiled proudly at me and gave me a thump in the back. "I always knew you had it in you to be a great warrior. You should tell that to Father and Mother as well. For all Mother loves to disparage jousts, her smile as she heard you win your first tourney was uncanny."

Just inside the walls, I saw Laena and Mother waiting. Laena had grown to be a great beauty in the seven years when I was largely absent. Mother beside her looked largely the same as ever, tall and stately, with a face schooled and lips stiff.

At least I didn't need to crane my neck just to look her in the eyes anymore.

I lifted a hand in greeting. "I'm home, Mother, Sister."

"That you do." Mother said. Tone as cold as Northern winter.

Laena, however, had no such scruple and gave me a hearty hug.

"By the gods, you grew tall. Last we met I still have half a head over you. Now I truly have become the shortest in the family."

"You're hardly short for a woman, sweet sister." I said. Then I nodded to mother. "I believe we should have—?

Mother nodded. "The servants have already prepared a room for you and your friend. We have time to talk with each other if you're not so tired from the journey."

Then Mother turned around as her children followed behind her.

Once we were away from prying eyes, Mother hugged me tightly.

"Oh, Corwyn, I told you to visit us more often. Being a squire is no reason not to visit at least once a year."

I returned her hug. I must have skipped one visit too many if this is how she acts. "Apologize, Mother. There is always too much to do and too little time for everything."

"We will prepare a proper welcoming feast for you and your friend. Hopefully your favourite dishes haven't changed since you're a child." She continued.

"I can hardly wait." I said. "However, before speaking of feasts, I need to speak of Father's war. He didn't mention it explicitly, but his letters made it seem as if the war was beginning to turn against us."

Laena let out a heavy sigh. "Of course he had told you. I love Father, but sometimes I must question his ways."

"A feeling I share, but your father also has his own concern." Mother returned her attention to me. "First things first, let us sit. This may prove to be a long discussion."

I took a seat and waited with my hands folded above the lacquered ebony table as the rest of my family sat.

"What have you heard about Daemon?" My mother began.

"If it's just the things I heard, then the answer would be too many. I was there when he returned to King's Landing and presented his crown to King Viserys. I managed to talk with him on a few occasions, but he didn't share anything important. Besides, he left court again barely six months after he returned." I said. To this day, I still have no idea what Daemon did to earn himself another exile so soon after the previous one ended. Not even Rhaenyra was willing to share.

"I believe you've heard of how the Triarchy had sent a larger fleet to fight in the Stepstones, and even Dorne had intensified their support. However, they alone aren't the only problems." Mother said.

"What do you mean?"

"Their number is larger than ours, but with Caraxes, the best they can hope for is to force a stalemate. However, the problem is Daemon himself. With him handing over his crown to Viserys, many whisper that he had given up the idea of kingship entirely."

"So it's the problem of morale?" I asked.

"In a way, yes. During the six months he spent in King's Landing, many among our army of sellswords and adventurers were wavering. Most of them are men with few prospects looking for a chance to make a living of their own, and they're trusting Daemon to grant them that. With Daemon gone, many of them thought the risk wasn't worth it. All the while, the determination of our enemies is heightened as they no longer need to contend with a dragon."

"But he returned to the Stepstones shortly. Surely that mitigated the issue." I protested. Whatever Daemon's failing was, cowardly was not one.

"He did return, but the damage is done. Years of progress are undone by a few months of inaction. Not to mention how the men begin doubting how long Daemon will keep to the campaign before he leaves again." Mother sighed wearily. "That's why I was hesitant to support his bid for conquest."

"I'm not the most knowledgeable about warfare, but Prince Daemon seemed to me to be successful enough in his wars." Laena added softly.

Mother looked weary as she responded. "There's more to a conquest than just the wars. Daemon thought being a king meant he only needed to ride a dragon with a crown atop his head, and everyone would immediately obey him. He doesn't have the patience necessary to nurture a new kingdom. There is no interest in establishing bureaucracy, law, and trade. For all he dreams of being a king, he doesn't seem to know what it entails and he's unwilling to put in the effort." Mother shook her head in disappointment. "Daemon is a warrior, but not a king."

No doubt the remark will anger the rogue prince if he's here to hear it.

"He kept at it for six years. At least we now know how long Prince Daemon could remain in one place." Laenor added.

I drummed my fingers on the table as I pondered the situation at hand as the family discussed it further.

The situation wasn't unsalvageable. We had all the ingredients we needed for a victory. I imagined our position in the Stepstones based on everything I knew, and I thought I figured out a few methods we might try to turn the situation around.

Where did that come from? I didn't know. I was green as grass when it came to strategy and leadership, and yet my mind seemingly had no problem filling in the blanks. It happened sometimes.

I glanced at Laenor. If my instincts were accurate, then he might be the key to solve this.

But that was assuming we should salvage the situation. There were times when prudence was the better part of valour. Perhaps we should just cut our losses entirely? This venture sounded more and more like an endless money sink.

I need to see more before deciding what I'll do next.

"Mind if I depart with the next supply ship set for the Stepstones?" I asked.

Laena looked aghast at the idea, though mother was mostly placid. Laenor looked to be more interested. "What do you have in mind?" Mother asked.

I shrugged. "I just want to see Father. As for what I will do after I see him, that will depend on what I see there."

"The war is no small matter, Brother. You've grown to be an impressive warrior, but you're young. This is not like your tourneys." Laenor said with a hint of concern.

"I will always be cautious, brother. I'm not so proud to think my presence alone will turn the tide."

And if things develop as I imagine them, you will likely play your own part as well.

I turned to Mother. "Do I have your permission?"

Mother sighed. "Boys and battles, I swear." She said. "As long as you promise to be careful."

"But you've just returned! Why will you immediately sail away again, and to a war no less?" Laena asked.

I looked into my sister's pleading eyes. "Not immediately," I said. "I'm not in an immediate hurry to sail to the Stepstones. Surely one week or two among family can't hurt. I won't leave without at least treating all of you to my lute playing."

It felt good to be finally among family.

The Bloodstone camp was a hive of activity.

The rows and rows of tents were neatly divided into several blocks, protected by tall palisades and ditches three feet deep. High wooden watchtowers were raised in each corner of the camp, ensuring we always had a good view of our surroundings.

I and Harry sailed here with a supply cog. Harry was excited at the idea of joining the fight in the Stepstones, and thankfully his excitement was not dampened by his miserable first sailing experience.

I promised him an adventure, and Corwyn Velaryon fulfilled his promises.

It wasn't difficult for us to find the command tent. It was the largest tent by far and was positioned in the middle of the camp. Guards in Velaryon's livery were standing on alert before the tent, though they allowed me entry after I identified myself.

Only myself, though. They made Harry wait outside.

Inside was a sturdy oaken table, where a detailed map of the Stepstones were spread. Small wooden tokens and coinage were used as markers, and the man who was deep in thought studying the map was unmistakable.

"You keep your hair shorter than I remember, Father."

The look he gave me was a mix of surprise and weariness, followed by joy after he recognized me. "Seven years have passed since we last met, and that's how you greet your father?" He said as he rose from his chair.

I approached him and clasped his arm. "It's been too long, Father."

Father smiled. "Aye, it is. You grow much taller."

"I know. Everyone says the same thing."

Father called for a servant to fetch a cup of wine. He waited until we were alone before he spoke once more. "And mind if I ask what's your purpose here, Corwyn? War is no place for games."

"Mother told me all about what happened here, and as I was a dutiful son, it feels just right for me to help family wherever I'm needed the most."

"What did she tell you, exactly?"

I hummed. "Perhaps there was a lesson to be had about trusting a man known far and wide to be mercurial for something that requires a long commitment?"

Father barked out a laugh at that. "True. But we made our choices. Do you have something else you want to say, Son?"

"I will not lie; my first instinct is to cut our losses here. There's no point in taking the Steptones with no king to conquer them." Daemon already gave away his crown, after all.

Father's response was quick. "Daemon gave his crown to Viserys. That arguably gives him authority over the Stepstones."

"A distinction that's only important to future maesters. As it is, soldiers and ships decide whether we control the region, not crowns. Daemon barely controlled half even at the peak of his influence here."

"That's obvious. Do you have a suggestion for that?"

I leaned back in my chair. "Tell me more about this war. Your letters and Mother told a lot, but I'm sure you have more to share."

The more Father spoke of our army, numbers, positions, supplies, and morale, the more I felt something indescribable in my head. I felt much like I felt back in Driftmark, as if I knew what was wrong and how to fix it. Like I could reach out with my hand and make things right.

Calm yourself, I said to myself. I was no great general in my previous life. I played wargames and followed many historical wars with great enthusiasm, but that just made me a knowledgable layman instead of a great conqueror. I must temper myself, lest I drag my family with me.

Still, sharing my thoughts wouldn't harm anyone. Try small. If it worked, good. If not, then our cause wouldn't be greatly harmed.

"You said Daemon parcelled the land we took to some of his sellswords. What happened to them?"

Father's slight wince was barely visible. "Some of them left, and others fought between themselves over their lands. I've heard one of them even try to unite an island on his own."

"Good." I said.

"Good?" Father asked in confusion.

"Good." I repeated. "Daemon's way of parceling the lands was horrendous. We need to wipe the slate clean. Should we keep the way he distribute the lands, we won't be able to hold the islands for long even if we're victorious." I said. For those who survived, well, they'd either made themselves useful or we'd purge them.

"This will be my first war; I can't say anything with complete certainty yet, but I think I have some advice to give. Are you interested in hearing the suggestions of a green boy?"

"Speak, Corwyn. There's a reason why I kept sending you words of our movements, and you've spoken plenty already. I will decide for myself whether we should follow it or not."

"Just don't expect a miracle from me." I said before leaning forward.

"Summon Laenor here."

Father raised his eyebrows. "Because we need another dragon?'

"Obviously yes. Seasmoke was large enough for the purpose."

"Dragons are not invincible. If something happened to Laenor—"

"If all goes well, Seasmoke may only need to take flight once."

Now father looked intrigued. "You told me not to expect a miracle, son. What you peddled to me sounds like a charlatan's miracle."

"What I suggested is merely to leverage our strength and prevent our enemies from using theirs, father." I shook my head. "Our enemy's strength is that their fleet is larger than ours and easier to resupply as the Stepstones are far closer to their cities. Our strength is in our dragons, who can fly faster than any ships can sail and whose fires outrange near any manmade weapon."

"The Triarchy's ships can't stay in a large fleet, which means they must be dispersed into many small flotillas spread in every direction. They have set up many good communication lines, enough for them to always tell where Caraxes is and avoid him. However, this will make them predictable and vulnerable. We can use dragons to corral them wherever we wish and have our larger fleet defeat their flotillas piece-by-piece."

It didn't matter how many more ships our enemies had. With dragons prowling the skies, they had no chance to leverage all those ships at once. There was nothing stopping us from defeating them piecemeal.

A defeat in detail was the formal term, I believe.

A spark of understanding appeared in Father's eyes. "You meant to use the dragons as bloodhounds, to pursue the Triarchy's smaller flotillas where our fleet would play as the hunter in waiting."

"Precisely."

Father pondered it for a moment, his amethyst eyes fixed on the map. "The plan was realistic enough, and not as foolish as I fear at first. However, there's something you must know."

Father looked at me in the eye. "We did something similar before. To send the fleet wherever Caraxes was not. We have had some limited success, but it didn't work for long. The Triarchy's ships simply learned to hide better. What will make it different now?"

I shrugged. "We will have two dragons. That's the difference."

Father looked skeptical. So I decided to elaborate further.

"Caraxes. Seasmoke. The fleet. With how far and wide their ships need to spread, it would be impossible to hide from all three. The Stepstones are simply not large enough. If they choose to hide, then we can simply continue taking the islands one by one. With each island we take, the fewer places where they can hide."

"Even if you know our foes will avoid dragons, predicting where they will hide precisely remains difficult." Father pointed out.

"True, but no precise prediction is necessary. Just a good guess will do. If we sent a dragon to the north, then at least some of the enemies would go to the south. If we send a dragon to the north and south each, then some of our foes will huddle in the center. Even if we just get two or three ships a day, that will still count as a worthy gain as long as the enemy loses more than us."

"And Laenor's part? You seem confident that we will be victorious with him only flying once."

"I'm not confident, Father. I merely stated the possibility. Remember that war is less about killing all your enemies and more about proving your strength is so far superior that they lose all will to fight. Strength is as much an illusion as it's real. Think about how King Jaehaerys used Vermithor. By the latter half of his reign, he barely rode on his back. Yet his enemies still shivered in fear at the mere mention of his dragon's name. We'll make sure to do the same with Seasmoke and Caraxes here and make the Triarchy tremble at the sheer possibility of the dragons' shadows flying over their heads."

All we need to do is to etch the fear of us so deep that none of them will dare raise arms against us ever again.

Author Notes:

Welp, it's here.

Also we finally reached the beginning of the falling out between Criston and Rhaenyra. It was kept intentionally ambiguous as the books are exceptionally unclear about the nature of the falling out. It can be Criston scorning Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra scorning Criston, or they scorning each other like in the show.

It's never mentioned why the Velaryon dragon riders didn't participate in the Stepstones' war, which is odd. I think it means Corlys is the only Velaryon interested in the Steptones.

To answer some of the questions:

1. The SI has no metaknowledge whatsoever.

2. The SI has no strong feeling about either green or black. He just follows whoever his family follow.

3. The SI has some modern morals, but he's also a strong believer in "when in Rome, do as the Romans do". And he's been going native for years without fully realizing it.

4. Yeah, the kids don't really speak like kids, but that's just me wanting to keep it simple and ASOIAF kids being oddly intelligent. Bran, Sansa, and Joffrey etc in the books are all eloquent for that age. I just assumed this is typical for noble kids.

As always, reviews are always welcome!