Gwayne Hightower ⠀ ⠀♱ ⠀

The Red Keep had never been so silent.

The nobles took their places while the septon waited before the altar.

You stood motionless, your gaze fixed forward.

On the other side was Gwayne Hightower.

The man you had argued with for years.

The man you were now about to marry.

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

"We still have time to escape."

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye.

"And let Otto hunt us across all of Westeros?"

He let out a soft laugh.

"You're right."

It would be worse.

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

The septon began to recite the vows.

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

You noticed that his fingers were trembling slightly.

You looked at him, surprised.

"Are you nervous?"

You whispered.

He smiled without taking his eyes off you.

"A little."

"I thought the knights of Oldtown knew no fear."

"We don't,"

He replied in a low voice.

"But marrying the only woman capable of contradicting me every single day... is quite daunting."

You had to stifle a laugh.

"Well, it's too late for regrets, Ser Gwayne."

"I didn't intend to, princess."

And, for the first time since that betrothal was announced, neither of you felt that this was an obligation.

Perhaps, after all, fate knew what it was doing.