In a specially built stadium... the main tourney was about to commence.
Thousands of lords and ladies, smallfolk and merchants, all packed tight in a roaring, sweating sea of noise.
The air was thick with the scent of sweat, spit, and dust.
Flags fluttered wildly in the breeze, banners snapping from the wind. While the space between was about to be trampled by the pounding of hooves, the clash of steel, and the shouts of men.
The stands were a riot of color... red and gold, blue and green... clothing and banners fluttering amid the din.
The crowd mostly chattered excitedly, their voices rising and falling as they waited for the main event.
Then the late Rhaenyra ascended a set of broad stairs… to a large balcony overlooking the chaos.
The space was a patchwork of high seats and carved stone… reserved for the royal court and the council nobles.
There, she found her place beside Alicent… whose face was set with a mixture of curiosity and concern.
While nearby… a select few nobles and courtiers milled about, their voices echoing off the stone walls.
King Viserys then stepped forward, a proud smile on his face as he addressed the gathering, his voice carrying over the tumult.
"Be welcome! I know many of you have traveled long leagues to be at these games. But I promise, you will not be disappointed."
Rhaenyra looked out over the crowd, her gaze flickering from the excited faces to the chaos of the battlefield below. Her heart thumped... this was more than just the playful sports from Runestone.
This was about power, spectacle, and a test of strength and honor.
Her father, standing tall amid the other nobles, raised his voice again.
"When I look at the fine knights in these lists, I see a group without equal in our histories. And this great day has been made more auspicious by the news that I am happy to share... Queen Aemma has begun her labors!"
The crowd erupted into cheers, voices shouting and banners waving.
The noise they made revealed the scale of the tournament... thousands of spectators packed into the stadium, a living, breathing beast of noise and color.
"May the luck of the Seven shine upon all combatants!" Viserys declared, his voice booming.
Alicent leaned in, her voice low. "Where have you been?"
Rhaenyra glanced back at her, a hint of a smile. "I checked up on Ser Ronan and his archery competition."
Archery was a side show and needed a heftier space, quite a distance and distraction from the main event.
Still, she watched as the famous young Bronze, took his shots and breeze through his competition.
"And how did Ser Royce do?" Alicent questioned. Curious and regretful that she couldn't make it.
"He won spectacularly." Rhaenyra recounted with awe. "Dead center for all his three shots in the same target. Splitting his own arrows to the shock of me and many."
"Gods, did he actually do that?" Alicent asked, eyes wide. "Can someone even do such a thing?"
Rhaenyra chuckled. "It would seem that the Young Bronze can and he did."
Behind them, Viserys overheard, his face betraying nothing. Hiding his own amazement and shock.
While Otto and those others who "overheard" the conversation can't help but also ponder. About how the famous boy knight was truly formidable in arms just as he is with his mind.
Meanwhile, two knights were already clashing in the center of the stadium... lances lowered, charges thunderous.
On the second run, one was dismounted, crashing to the dirt with a grunt.
Cheers erupted from the crowd. The victorious knight approached the balcony, bowing low.
"Is that a mystery knight?" Rhaenyra asked, curiosity piqued.
"No, a Cole, of the Stormlands," Alicent replied.
Rhaenyra frowned. "I've never heard of House Cole."
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Consequently, after some while… Boremund Baratheon rode up on his horse, approaching the balcony with a confident grin.
"Princess Rhaenys Targaryen! I would humbly ask for the favor of 'The Queen Who Never Was.'"
The nobles watched with varying expressions... amusement, suspicion, curiosity.
Rhaenys could only step forward, dropping a wreath onto Boremund's lance.
"Good fortune to you, cousin." She said softly.
Boremund smirked. "I would gladly take it if I thought I needed it."
Otto Hightower leaned over, whispering into Viserys's ear. "You could have Baratheon's tongue for that."
Viserys had no care for it. "Tongues will not change the succession. Let them wag."
Rhaenys then turned to her husband, Corlys Velaryon, exchanging a glance. The tension was thick enough to cut.
Taking this reprieve, Rhaenyra gossiped. "Lord Stokeworth's daughter is promised to that young Tarly squire."
"Lord Massey's son?" Alicent doubted.
"Mm-hm." The princess affirmed. "They're to be married as soon as he wins his knighthood."
A flicker of amusement crossed Alicent's face. "Best get on with it. I heard that Lady Elinor is hiding a swollen belly beneath her dress."
Meanwhile, Boremund and Criston Cole faced off in the joust. Boremund was dismounted, sprawled in the dirt.
Harrold Westerling knelt beside Rhaenyra's seat after she called for him.
"What do you know about this Ser Criston Cole, Ser Harrold?" She asked.
Harrold hesitated. "I'm told Ser Criston is common-born, son of Lord Dondarrion's steward. But other than that, and the fact that he's just unhorsed both of the Baratheon lads, I really couldn't say."
He rose and moved away as the field prepared for the next event.
Just then, a Targaryen banner fluttered as a group of knights rode out into the field. Flaunting and strutting around for all of the onlookers to see.
To which, the Master of Revels announced, his voice rough and commanding.
"Prince Daemon of House Targaryen!"
The crowd hushed, tension thickening. Daemon's arrival was a storm... his reputation for brutality cut like a blade through flesh.
Couple with the recent scandal of the Gold Cloaks... few even expected him to still partake.
Even Rhaenyra felt her stomach unknowingly tensed. For she knew of her uncle's history with the Royces she's gotten acquainted with.
And it would seem that none of them had faced off just yet... and she also remembered that they were all here, in this very stadium.
Meaning that tensions simmered just beneath the surface, ready to ignite.
While the guests of this arena of a stadium waited... the air around them made thick with anticipation and the unspoken curiosity of what was to come.