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Candles glowed like fireflies, the flames seeming to dance around the open space as though instructing the wealthy occupants of what was expected of them. The flames also acted to accentuate the immense wealth that was on display in order to intimidate all those that attended the ball.
Paintings that Naenya, in all her years of running through the halls and rooms of Dragonstone, had never once seen before were hung up so comfortably that one would assume they had been there since before the Targaryens themselves. Ornamentations of pure gold swung from the roof, which was supported by newly decorated crimson-red columns. If a single Lord or Lady had questions of where their place was compared to a Targaryen, they had their answer in these walls. It was hard to imagine a man such a Viserys Targaryen would be able to create such a spectacle, perhaps Damon or Otto Hightower.
While everyone had known for some time that Princess Naenya's, the future heir to the Iron Throne, tour would end with such a ball, it was only a week ago that the King had officially announced it. It was during her last few days at Storms End that the proclamation of the King had arrived to the Lords and Ladies of Westeros. Viserys Targaryen proclaimed that his eldest daughter and heir was in search of a future King Consort. And whether a Great House had a good political match for the princess, whether their sons were too young or already married, they were expected to attend to show their respect regardless.
And attend they did. On the afternoon of the ball, Lords and Ladies from around the realm, both from the Great Houses and the lesser houses that held more power than other small houses, swarmed Dragonstone in a flutter of fine silks and newly acquired jewellery.
And once the sun fell from the sky, and the stars and candles were raised high into the sky they all flocked towards the Keep and amassed at the ballroom to dance. Quickly enough, after some speeches from the King and Naenya herself, ladies were thrown into the air by strong-armed men and twirled around the dance floor until their heads spun. Lords unfit for Naenya's partnership, whether they be too old, too young or from a lesser house, took the ball as an opportunity to find wives for themselves as ladies spent the night scoping out their potential future suitors.
Naenya enjoyed watching them. Like peacocks they seemed to spread out their feathers and strut about. Some preened themselves and others, fixing jewellery and dress fittings, while some shook their feathers at unimpressed lords and ladies. It was all rather amusing, though she struggled to find too much humour in the whole affair. After all, she would have plenty of extravagant courtship endeavours thrown her way once she took herself to the dance floor.
For now, she was content with her goblet of water and a show.
"Does it upset you?"
Rhaenys Velaryon was standing beside Naenya, holding a goblet of fresh dornish wine. The faintest hint of a wry smile was adorned on the Rhaeny's lips as she brought them to the cup.
