Jacaera had had too much wine, mayhaps. Her head was spinning, though she had only had one cup and then drank from her husband’s cup. It was not as if she was not used to dancing, plain featured or not, she was still a Princess. She would be asked by anyone who wanted to catch her Grandfather's eye or her Mother’s favour. 

But tonight, at the fourth event held to celebrate her marriage, she had danced every dance but one with her lord husband. Baelon scared off any lickspittles who might look her way and had outright refused her uncle Aegon again when he asked for a dance.  She hadn’t successfully avoided her uncle’s attention so much in years. Yet another reason to be pleased with this marriage though it was only four days in. 

Baelon noticed when she was unsteady on her feet and led her from the dance floor, all solicitation. Jacaera has sometimes thought she should be less enamoured of his attentions. She was more than fond of her oh-so-beautiful husband already but understand him she does not. She assumed once they were established at court his interest would wain.

Baelon found them a seat in a quiet corner of the ballroom - a chair pushed out of the way by someone else and at first, she thought he’d offer it to her because while Baelon’s manners have been found wanting by some he has always been well mannered with her. But instead, he sat in the seat and dragged her down into his lap. 

“You don’t mind sharing?” he asked, his violet eyes lit with amusement. It was not proper but he was not wrong. She didn’t mind and they were out of the way. There would probably be talk but for now, Jacaera would pretend this was as private as it felt. She perched on his lap, his arm around her waist, caught up entirely in him. 

“No,” she said. “I don’t mind.” He’d snagged another cup of wine along the way and when he proffered it to her she drank deeply despite her whirling thoughts. 

She could feel Baelon’s eyes on her the whole time and when she offered him the wine, he only smiled in a way that made her stomach flip. That recalled the way he looked at her in bed. He reached to touch her face, and his thumb brushed her lip. The cut from the wedding mostly healed now - it didn’t hurt anymore and it tingled when he touched her, or when he kissed her. He hadn’t kissed her now though he’d not held back in ballrooms at the other events to celebrate their marriage. Instead, he watched her, his gaze expectant. He was waiting for her. Jacaera felt her cheeks heat at the thought even though of course, she wanted to kiss him. She leaned in and brushed her lips over the smooth skin of his cheek. The warmth of his skin made her head swim more. His hand slid up her back. 

“I think it’s time to retire, sweetling,” he said and encouraged her to her feet. Jacaera could not agree more. 

It had been quiet when Jace got back to his chambers that night, Rhaena had been sitting by the fireplace, a piece of embroidery in her lap though she was not stitching - he assumed Baela had retired early. It had been their habit so often before their marriage to sit together that it was easy to act like nothing had changed. But she seemed more settled he thought - her braids loose about her shoulders and her stockinged feet up by the fire. 

She stood when she saw him, set aside her work, folding it out of his sight and poured them both a cup of the cider that was mulling over the fire. 

“Thank you,” he breathed and then drank half the cup in a single swallow, biting back an exclamation as he burnt his mouth a little. He took the seat opposite slumping in the chair, glad to be with family.

“That bad?” she asked, her tone gentle. A late council meeting was never a good sign. 

“Fuss over nothing,” Jace said. More posturing from the Reach lords. They were testing him and he was heartily sick of it. They could provide the grain they had promised when he gave them terms or he’d tax them and use the money to buy it from Essos. He drained the rest of his cup and then noticed Rhaena had not touched hers - she preferred wine he knew, he liked cider and Baela currently hated both. “I’ll send for wine,” he said. 

“You will not,” she said taking a sip of cider.  “You will sit down and relax for a change. Or I’ll tell on you to Baela.” This made them both laugh. 

“A grave threat,” he said “I am not sure I deserve that.” Rhaena got out of her seat and wrestled his cup from him to refill it. She pressed him back into the chair, one-handed before she handed over the cider. She leaned in close and he could smell the cider on her breath, the softness of her braids brushing against his face as she leaned in. Her violet eyes were serious and wide as she looked him over. 

“I will be the judge of that,” she said. He could feel his pulse quicken under the press of her hand on his chest as he caught her gaze. She handed over his cup and then quickly before she straightened up, her lips were on his skin, the quickest press against his cheek which heated as she kissed it. “You work too hard. You will have to let at least one wife look after you.” 

Rhaena already had her work cut out with Baela - who resisted all aid from both of them as hovering. But he could not find the words to deny her when she had been so plain-spoken. 

“I will endeavour to not need much looking after,” he offered - he did not want to be a burden. But this promise did not seem to reassure Rhaena at all.

“Move!” Luke had not meant to be quite so aggressive but it was freezing and the only shelter was under Arrax's wing. Rhaena had not needed to take up the entire space. Arrax was a little dragon but neither of them were tall.

“Why would I move if I’m so comfy where I am?” Rhaena retorted. His first answer - that Arrax was his dragon, he swallowed before he could say it. If he said that Rhaena would sit in the rain until Baela or Jace came to get her before she got back on Arrax. Then she would catch a chill, which would be bad. And he would be blamed, which would be worse.

"We could both be comfy," he pointed out. "Unless you feel I am too ungentlemanly and cannot be trusted to come close." His hair was plastered to his face now with rain - they'd been soaked before Arrax landed the storm surprising them on what had seemed a clear summer day - he would have flown them home through lashing rain but lighting was another matter. But the flight had gone badly before the rain - Rhaena found it harder and harder that she could only fly on anothers dragon and she was inclined to snap. Jace ignored her and Baela snapped back but Luke had taken it to heart and said she didn't have to come if she didn't want to.

Rhaena shifted her skirts staring out into the rain and he settled beside her revelling in the warmth of Arrax at his back.

"I didn't mean it," Luke said. "I don't know what to say. I know it is not the same but you can always fly with me until the day you have your own dragon. And I know that you will."

Rhaena sniffed but slipped her hand in his. A peace offering. He held tightly and hoped he was right.