Gwayne Hightower ⠀ ⠀♱ ⠀

The Red Fortress had never been so quiet.

The nobles took their places while the septon waited in front of the altar.

You remained motionless, your gaze fixed straight ahead.

On the other side was Gwayne Hightower.

The man you had argued with for years.

The man you were about to marry.

When he reached your side, he spoke in such a low voice that no one else could hear him.

—We still have time to escape.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye.

—And let Otto chase us all over Westeros?

He let out a soft laugh.

-You're right.

It would be worse.

For the first time since the ceremony began, they both smiled.

The septon began reciting the vows.

When the time came to join hands, Gwayne held yours firmly.

You noticed that her fingers were barely trembling.

You looked at him, surprised.

—Are you nervous?

You whispered.

He smiled without taking his eyes off you.

-A bit.

—I thought the knights of Antigua knew no fear.

—We don't know him.

He answered in a low voice.

—But marrying the only woman capable of contradicting me every day… is quite daunting.

You had to stifle a laugh.

—Well, it's too late to repent, Ser Gwayne.

—I wasn't planning to, princess.

And, for the first time since that engagement was announced, neither of them felt that it was an obligation.

Perhaps, after all, fate had known what it was doing.