Welcoming Feast for the Targaryen Envoys

"That is unfortunate. I am sure my kin will remember to put aside their weapons in future. I know they meant no slight to your hospitality, Master Azantys. I for one would be very happy to see a test of skill. I am sure Ser Brandon or my daughter, the Princess Arenya, will be happy to oblige." She looked coolly at them both. "You will find that we are are martially minded family, I believe."

Laena gave the woman a cool smile. "Oh, hardly. A bastard is not allowed to damage one of royal blood, and the Lord Commander is sworn to protect his trueborn kin." She looked at the pair as if daring them to disagree with her. "I would rather see how your own people fight." She turned to Brandon. "Ser, will you not show these people how a knight of the Kingsguard fights?"

"I guess that was my cue to put my sword away and take a seat or..."Arenya looked from Brandon to her mother, whispering,"Our hosts want us to fight." She grinned,"Didn't we already have the dance, with you winning in the end?"

Obeying her mother, she unbelted her sword, still sheathed and carried in her hand to the table, nodding with respect to her mother and the Triach,"My apologies mother."

"They can ask the Lysene if they want to know how a Kingsguard fights," he muttered.

He strangles his stepmother, Brandon thought to himself.

"He is serving his Master, as all of such station should. Your Kingsguard are being sworn to celibacy, is it not being so? Is it not being the same for them, as it is being for our Unsullied?" the Triarch asked, looking at Brandon again with a small smile. She clapped her hands twice, and two Unsulled stepped into the center of the room, facing the center dais. "What is it you are wishing to see, Princess of Westeros?"

"That will not be necessary," Aegon replied, successfully resisting the urge to give his grandmother a disdainful glance in front of their hosts. "I see no reason to dirty your feasting hall with blood."

Aegon could identify about half of the dishes, though to their hosts' credit even the more exotic courses looked mouth-watering. Even so, Aegon had his man Ser Rolf taste everything that went on his plate, and only after a suitable period of time did the prince himself eat.

"It all looks delicious," Aegon replied courteously. "My compliments to your chefs."

The Triarch's mouth tightened at the sight of Aegon's food taster. "It is being very insulting to be mistrusting your hosts so, Prince of Dragonstone," she said in terse tones. "We are being civilized people here, and our honor is being greatly impugned if anything is happening to our guests under this roof."

She paused for a moment, eyeing Aegon, and she lowered her voice, moving closer to where he was seated. "Are you have so many enemies, Prince of Dragonstone, that you are being wary of them even in our kitchens?"

The Triarch shrugged lazily. "We are not caring, in this Daughter, what the rebellious children who are being our western neighbors are doing. Perhaps your King's servants are being to blame, for not being devoted enough in their service. My slaves are obeying my commands always, and in Volantis it is being a great shame for harm to be coming to one's guest. If the guest is being important enough, perhaps the shame is being great enough for the host to be taking his own life to attone for it."

"You are not having this, in Westeros? The rights of a guest are not being sacrosanct?" she asked, with genuine curiosity.

The Triarch smiled again, and clapped her hands as more slaves came forward to clear away the remnants of the first course. A second stream of them flowed out of the kitchens, bringing trays bear a dozen roasted herons, drizzled with a sweet plum sauce, and surrounded by an array of stuffed chestnuts and mushrooms. The spiced rum from the Summer Islands that had accompanied the first course was cleared away as well, replaced with a pale amber wine, as well as the pear brandy that the Westerosi recognized as an import from Tyrosh. There was another soup as well, a clear broth with peppery diced meat of some kind, and steamed vegetables, as well as several platters covered in blood oranges, pineapples, and fireplums, all carved intricately and arranged into beautiful decorative displays.

"Theives are being executed in Volantis," the Triarch replied. "We are finding that it is being a better deterrent. Some Triarchs are preferring to use tasters for their food, but I am not being so paranoid as they. Some, in Volantis, are still remembering our ancient customs," she added, laughing lightly. "I am not taking offense, however. Westeros is being a dark and dangerous place, and it is not being a surprise to me that its people are always fearing knives in the dark."

Triarch Vhassar shrugged again, turning her attention away from Brandon and toward the more important of her guests. "Is the meal being to your liking, Princess of Westeros?" she asked, though it was not quite clear if she was speaking to Rhaena or Laena.