Glancing at his reflection in the mirror, Orys Baratheon cringes at the sight of himself. He looks terrible.

His rags have been replaced with garishly colourful clothes adorned with bells that jingle with each movement, as if he craves attention. Laughter followed him everywhere he goes in Storm's End, and he hates it. He hates being a clown.

But that's who he is now, a jester. It's all Aegon's fault.

King Argilac is fond of Orys, summoning him to his side for the last few days and urging him to tell more stories about Dragonstone and Aegon's antics. The Storm King is convinced that Orys is joking and refuses to believe otherwise… unless one of the Targaryens appears in front of him.

Which Orys supposes will eventually happen when they realize he hasn't returned. But that'll bring a new set of problems, namely Aegon's offer to the Storm King… Gosh, he'll take all of our heads when he knows the truth!

The more Orys thinks about it, the more terrified he becomes. His days are numbered, yet here he is, still wearing ridiculous dresses with tinkling bells, preparing to entertain someone.

…Well, not just someone, but Princess Argella.

Yesterday, when King Argilac summoned him to court, he told Orys, "My daughter has been feeling down lately. I want you to cheer her up!" Then he spent half an hour talking about Princess Argella, from her eating habits to her first pet when she was three. By the end of it, Orys's smile was forced. Still, he gained some insight into the woman he was about to meet, which only made him more nervous.

Argella is the woman whom Aegon wants him to marry. The plan will never come to fruition, of course, but meeting his potential betrothed while dressed as a fool is not a good first impression.

But perhaps the kind, cake-loving princess will take a liking to him. Maybe? Orys's heart races as he is finally granted an audience with her in her chambers.

Orys bows deeply and says, "Princess, I—"

She interrupts him with a bored, lazy voice, "You're the jester my father sent to me. Come closer so I can see you better."

Orys rises, his eyes wide as Argella looks him over, her frown deepening with each passing moment. He doesn't dare to breathe. Finally, she sinks back into her chair, crossing her legs and scratching her long, messy black hair. "Just a boy," she snorts, "The old man must be truly senile to find you interesting."

Orys blinks in surprise. The sweet, kind princess...

Argella notices his gaze and says with contempt, "Hey, what are you looking at, Fool? Go back to the old senile man. I have no use for your service." She exudes arrogance and disdain.

She's no sweet princess at all!

Orys's face flushes red, he blurts out, "You shouldn't speak about your father this way. He's a kind man and the King—"

Argella interrupts him, lifting her chin proudly and says, "I'm your princess, and I will inherit this kingdom, not you. Who do you think you are to lecture me?" Orys flinches at her words. Argella laughs, pleased with herself. "Remember your place, jester. Being an entertainer doesn't give you the right to speak out of turn."

Her laughter is cold and heartless. Orys's fists clench, but he knows he can't challenge her. If it comes down to Argella's words against his, the Storm King will always trust his daughter, even if his perception of her is far from reality.

Orys looks away, but he can still see Argella out of the corner of his eye. She is holding a parchment and biting the tip of a quill, her feet on the table as she sinks deeper into her chair, her shoes scattered on the ground. She looks nothing like a princess. When she notices him looking, she wiggles her toes at him in a dismissive gesture, annoyance growing on her face. There's no point in staying here any longer. As Orys turns to leave—

"Orys! ORYS!"

Orys's head snaps around at the sound of his name.

Aegon is there, hovering outside Argella's window.

As soon as Orys sees Aegon, he rushes to the window, ignoring Argella's "What?" behind him. He knows he's in trouble, and Argella will kill both of them. Even Balerion won't be able to save them. The whole Stormlands will be hunting them down.

But Aegon doesn't seem to care that Orys is sweating. In fact, he looks pleased with himself as he jumps into Orys's outstretched hands. "I always arrive at the right moment!" he says proudly, patting his chest. "How are you doing, brother? I see you're getting acquainted with Princess Argella here— wait, what are you wearing?"

No matter how much Orys makes faces and shakes his head, he can't stop Aegon from catching Argella's attention. She is already standing behind Orys, her chin touching his shoulders. "What...who are you?" Noticing how close she is, Orys screams, his trembling nearly causing him to drop Aegon.

But Aegon is undeterred. He jumps into Argella's welcoming hands and even bows with flourish as he introduces himself. "I'm Aegon Targaryen, Lord of Dragonstone and the last of the Dragonlords, Orys's brother. Has my brother mentioned me and the proposal I have for you?"

"What proposal?" she asks, sounding intrigued.

"Orys will marry you and take your name, and I will defeat the Ironborn and conquer the seven kingdoms with the might of the Stormlands and my three dragons," Aegon answers easily. Orys feels like he blacks out for a second. This is bad. Can he still run? If he can distract Argella, maybe Aegon can jump onto Balerion's back and fly away…

Orys moves his foot slowly, carefully glancing at Argella.

He widens his eyes.

Argella isn't angry. She looks back and forth between Aegon and Orys, curiosity filling her eyes. "You two are… brothers?"

"I was raised by Lord Aerion, Aegon's father," Orys mumbles.

"And he has a bit of Valyrian in him as well. He's a brave and loyal man, he'll be a good husband to you, Princess," Aegon adds, "Oh, and may I request permission for Balerion to enter? He has travelled a long journey from Dragonstone to the Stormlands and needs to rest."

Balerion howls in agreement. Argella's gaze turns to the dragon and she doesn't take her eyes off it. "A dragon," she whispers, amazement in her voice.

"His name is Balerion," Aegon says.

"Come in!" Argella exclaims eagerly. The dragon flies into the room and lands beside Aegon, curling up into a ball and blinking lazily. As Aegon pats his dragon, Argella sits beside him, fussing over him, "Does he need something to drink or eat? Maybe some pillows?"

Orys is confused by the sudden change in Argella's demeanour. She is now a completely different person. After supplying pillows and food for Balerion, who is now sleeping in his new den with an empty bowl in front of him, Argella looks at the dragon adoringly and whispers, "I want...I want you to stay."

She's in love. That's clear.

—My daughter loves animals. When she was three, I got her a cat and she cried for three days when it died...

Perhaps not everything the King said about Argella was biased, after all.

Argella is talking to Balerion, but Aegon taps his head thoughtfully. "I shall stay with my brother until the negotiations are completed," he says, "And my sisters will want to attend Orys' wedding as well. They'll bring their dragons with them, of course…"

Oh, now Orys sees it. Argella's head perks up, focusing on Aegon's tiny face. He's baiting.

And she's falling for it.

"There are more dragons?" she asks, excitement in her voice.

"Of course!" Aegon answers happily, lying comfortably on his pillow, "My sisters, Visenya and Rhaenys, are both dragon riders. And we have a lot of dragon eggs, one day to be claimed and hatched by my descendants."

Argella's eyes narrow and her lips purse as she considers the proposition. Suddenly, she turns to Orys and he flinches, still afraid of her.

She briefly closes her eyes and bites her fingernail before a grin spreads across her face. "I'll marry you...Orys, is it? And convince my father of this alliance," she says, turning to Aegon. "But you will give me a dragon egg, and if it doesn't hatch, one of your dragons will stay with me for a week every three months."

"Deal!" Aegon says, extending a hand for Argella to shake.

"Wait, wait," Orys quickly interjects, "Do I not get a say in this?"

Aegon looks at him with a perplexed expression. "We agreed that you'll marry Princess Argella when you wrote the letter, remember?"

"Yes, but—" Frustrated, Orys glances at Argella, who is smirking. In his eyes, it's an evil smile. This woman knows that he's unwilling to marry her, but she won't say a thing? But then—

"You're fine with marrying me? You just met me today, and I'm a jester."

"A what?" Aegon interrupts, his face twists in confusion, one of his eyes half-closed. He looks adorable, and Orys has to resist the temptation to stroke his hair. Does he not know what a jester is?

Argella seems to have the same urge, as her eyes briefly shine when she looks at Aegon. "Orys is employed by my father because he thinks he has a talent for making people laugh," she explains quickly, turning to Orys.

"Why not? I see no reason to refuse this match. You can't be worse than anyone else my father offers to me," she says, shrugging.

"But—" There's a lot of things he can say. He's of a lower station, he knows nothing about being a prince, he can't wield a sword or use a lance… but under Aegon's gaze, he can only manage to squeeze out one protest.

"But... is that really the right thing to do?" Orys asks, uncertainty creeping into his voice.

Argella snorts dismissively. "There's no point in worrying about right or wrong. The only thing I need to think about is whether I can stand being married to you."

Her choice of words stings Orys. "By your own standards, I can't stand being married to you," he retorts without thinking. Aegon widens his eyes in shock as Orys speaks, his mouth falling open in surprise.

But Argella only laughs. "I figured as much. But I can tolerate you."

She steps closer to Orys and takes his hand in hers. "What are you..." he starts to ask, but before he can finish, Argella's other hand moves to his shoulder and her face is close to his ear. Orys freezes, suddenly aware of how close her lips are to his ear and the warmth of her breath tickling his skin.

As he trembles, the bells on his hat ring out.

"I like an honest man," Argella whispers into his ear. "Too many people are fakes, and won't show how much they hate me— even when I know they all do."

"Is... is that true? You like..." Orys feels his face burning with embarrassment. He doesn't dare to look at her, his thoughts in disarray, and suddenly the prospect of marrying Argella doesn't seem so bad anymore.

"Do you feel differently about me now?" Her voice is low and sultry. Orys glances to the side and sees Aegon hovering close to his face, wiggling his eyebrows, and Balerion nodding rapidly. Those two...

"Yes," Orys murmurs.

"Hooray!" Aegon exclaims as Balerion flies around the room in celebration. "We'll have a wedding in Storm's End!"

Argella leaves Orys and high-fives Aegon. The joyful atmosphere causes Orys to smile as well. They still have to convince King Argilac, but with how much he spoils Argella, this shouldn't be a problem. Orys will become a prince, married to this beautiful woman who apparently likes him...

Smiling, he asks Argella, "You're serious about what you said, right?"

She chuckles and leans forward, winking at him. "Of course... not. I said what I knew you wanted to hear, idiot."

Orys feels his smile slip from his face immediately.

This woman is evil.