Chapter 167: The Angry Rhaenyra

"It's Syrax," Rhaegar announced as he rose, "Rhaenyra has arrived."

He immediately left the table to greet her, and the other nobles followed his lead, not daring to delay.

The castle gate swung open, revealing Syrax landing in the front yard. The dragon's scales glimmered, its crown of horns curving backward, and its head held high in regal splendor.

Rhaenyra, dressed in black dragon-riding attire with her hair braided behind her head, descended the soft ladder. Her demeanor mirrored the dragon's arrogance.

Behind her, a disheveled Jessamyn followed, her cheeks tense and her steps unsteady. It was clear she had endured a rough ride, much like Jeyne.

"Rhaenyra, did you have a safe trip?" Rhaegar asked as he stepped forward.

"Aside from being left behind by you, it was business as usual," Rhaenyra replied, smoothing her hair and greeting Lady Rhea and the other nobles with calm familiarity.

She knew these people well; they had all sworn allegiance to her before, making her more at ease than Rhaegar.

Once inside the castle, Jessamyn asked after Jeyne and was helped by the maids to find her friend. Rhaenyra leaned close to Rhaegar and laughed softly, "You flew so fast, Jeyne was afraid she'd fall apart."

"Don't blame me; she's the one who's afraid of heights and wanted the ordeal to be over quickly," Rhaegar responded, his expression innocent.

Rhaenyra smiled, sniffing his lapel. She detected Jeyne's minty scent and a hint of wine but nothing else suspicious. As she glanced around the hall, her eyes landed on the noble ladies who had recently been vying for Rhaegar's attention.

"Rhaegar, you are quite popular," she remarked, adjusting his collar with a knowing smile.

Rhaegar's good looks and noble status had made him the object of many ladies' affections. Rhaenyra, having once been the center of similar attention herself, could sympathize.

She recalled how, as a teenager, men of all ages had sought her hand, including the Lannister brothers Jason and Tyland, who nearly fought over her.

Chairs were brought in, and Rhaenyra took her customary seat beside Rhaegar. Her presence brought the party to a climax, with nobles toasting and boasting of their achievements.

Rhaegar, now relaxed, enjoyed the respite her presence afforded. The noble ladies, intimidated by Rhaenyra, kept their distance.

Even the timid Jonelle, who had been pouring wine, now stood quietly by Lord Grimm's side, avoiding Rhaenyra's gaze.

"Rhaenyra, you still command the room as usual," Rhaegar remarked amusedly, finishing in a low voice. "Have I said or done anything?"

Rhaenyra smiled sweetly, clutching her dinner knife in one hand and resting the other on Rhaegar's thigh.

"No," Rhaenyra assured him, holding her slender hand on his thigh with a sincere smile.

...

Two days later, the wedding was held at Runestone.

Nobles arrived daily, and the castle's stables were so crowded that some guests had to park their carriages nearby.

The ceremony was not held indoors, but in the back garden of Runestone, as the Royce House, with its long history, still adhered to the worship of the old gods.

In the back garden stood a sturdy weirwood tree, ancient and revered. Under its thick, rustling leaves, Rhea and Gerold, dressed in ceremonial robes, swore their vows of love and loyalty to each other.

Jeyne, as witness, placed a crown of flowers on Rhea's head to mark the end of the vows. The nobles applauded and offered their heartfelt blessings.

With a beaming smile, Rhea held Gerold's hand, and the couple invited everyone to return to the castle for a feast.

Another great feast began. After being persuaded to take a few sips of red wine, Rhaegar managed to escape the persistent toasts of the nobles. He slipped away to the second floor to find a moment of peace.

The second floor was filled with noble ladies, their laughter and chatter echoing through the corridors. On the balcony, through an open floor-to-ceiling window, Rhaenyra sat elegantly in a rocking chair, dressed in a striking red gown, one leg crossed over the other.

"Rhaenyra, why aren't you with Jeyne and the others?" Rhaegar asked, surprised to see her alone.

Rhaenyra gently swirled her glass of red wine and turned her face away from him without a word.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" Rhaegar leaned down, holding the back of the rocking chair to look at her closely.

"Get away!" Rhaenyra chortled, playfully pushing him away.

"Who upset you?" Rhaegar asked, concerned, as he squeezed her shoulders. Rhaenyra had been in good spirits the previous night, so something must have happened to upset her.

Rhaenyra remained silent, staring out the window. Following her gaze, Rhaegar saw the lush greenery of the Vale and the weirwood tree in the garden where a group of children played beneath its branches.

Rhaegar frowned slightly, seeing nothing amiss. Thinking it over, he slowly wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning in to whisper in her ear, "Did I make you unhappy?"

Rhaenyra usually took on a sisterly role, caring for him daily. Rarely did she get angry with him. Perhaps the warmth of his breath was too much; Rhaenyra headbutted him lightly, her mood sour. "What does my dress look like to you?"

Rhaegar was momentarily stunned, then seriously examined her strapless red gown. "It's beautiful," he said innocently.

"Doesn't it look like the red carpet you gave Jeyne?" Rhaenyra turned her head, their faces inches apart.

Rhaegar froze, black lines forming on his forehead. "Have you read the messages from the ravens from the Eyrie?" he asked. The previous evening, Erryk had led a caravan through the Bloody Gate to the Eyrie, bringing many exotic treasures, including the red carpet.

Rhaenyra's eyes were filled with anger. "That red carpet was my gift to you on your eleventh naming day!"

"Uh..." Rhaegar felt a chill run down his spine and took a step back.

"Get back here!" Rhaenyra demanded, pulling him by his collar. Their foreheads collided, and they stared at each other.

"I choose all my gifts from my private coffers; I had no knowledge of that red carpet," Rhaegar stammered, trying to find an excuse. He had secretly added the carpet to the gift list, not realizing Rhaenyra would notice.

"You think I'll believe that?" Rhaenyra's eyes were fierce. The red carpet had been costly, and she had gone to great lengths to acquire it.

"Alicent!" Rhaegar quickly invoked the queen's name to divert blame. "She saw the gift list; she must have added it by mistake."

(Word count: 1,088)