Rhaegar stood alone in the empty dining room, his ears ringing from the words that the woman if she was even worthy of the title, he had thought loved him as he loved her spewed out moments ago.

A part of him urged his body to move, to follow after her and beg for forgiveness. Telling him to explain himself and to explain that he had in fact not seen the ring for a little over two years when he and Cersei stopped their late-might meetings. Another part of him however only saw red. How dare she question my integrity and honesty? Rhaegar thought to himself, running his hands through his hair. She was to be betrothed to a Prince and questioning his every move was not in her best interest.

He decided that it was best he moved from the conversation because he knew that if he was to follow her only words of anger would be spoken. So instead, with the ring tightly in his hand, he made his way to what he remembered was Cersei's room when she last visited. Knocking on the oak door loudly and in an impatient manner, Rhaegar huffed as the door swung open to reveal an unsurprised Cersei smiling up at him.

"Well, good morning to you too," she said, moving aside to let him in.

...

Jaime followed behind Arianne as she circled the orange garden for the fourth time. It was not that he was tired, more so that as the sun rose so did the warmth in the air and therefore the warmth in his golden armour.

"My lady," Jaime started, "can we go inside. Please?" He would have not dared ask another person that very same question but knew she wouldn't care for his informality and disregard for his new rank.

Arianne turned to him and for the first time he saw her eyes, which were puffy and bloodshot and he felt bad for asking the question. "No," her voice wavered, "the girls will be waiting for me there and I cannot bear to see them like this. I have a strong feeling they'll be greatly disappointed in me."

Jaime scoffed, he had also forgotten how much she cared what people thought of her. "It was a small argument about nothing, calm down."

"It wasn't nothing to me. If Rhaegar speaks to me like that before we're married how on earth will he speak to me once we are? I will always be beneath him. A pretty burden he carries around." She sat down on one of the vacated chairs in a huff. "I feel the stupidest woman in Westeros."

Jaime pursed his lips and sat down next to her. "To be fair, my sister has a knack for getting in the way of Rhaegar and his relationships."

Arianne turned to him, baffled he would say such a thing about his own blood and that he would address Rhaegar as ... Rhaegar. "But he said they have had no contact."

"They don't need to. I know she gave you that ring and I know she probably had a servant steal it for her from him, come now do you think he would go against his father the king?" Jaime pointed out, sitting down next to her, glancing up at those who passed every once in a while.

Arianne sniffed, "well ... I've been thinking-," she threw the current situation out of the window, "why would the king want me, a bastard, to marry the prince?"

Jaime shrugged his shoulders, "the same reason why he burns people in front of an audience. He's...mad," by the look on her face Jaime realised he must have offended her greatly. "Well, you know what I mean. You aren't exactly within rank."

Arianne bit her cheek, "yes thanks for that reminder."

There was a short silence and Jaime pursed his lip. "At least we've figured out Rhaegar wasn't messing around with my sister."

"How pleasant."

"Arianne, it's high time you started appreciating your position here and stopped moping around over the smallest inconveniences," Jaime snapped, standing from his seat abruptly.

She looked to see what had made him cut his words short and take position behind her. The king had decided to take a stroll, rather slowly, but nevertheless, it had startled Jaime enough. Arianne stood from her seat as he walked past, and curtsied to him.

The king sent a nod her way, before stopping dead in his tracks and whispering something to a man who stood beside him. She did not know the man but she assumed he was someone close to the king because he scurried away whispering something to himself.

"Er...," the king began shuffling towards her. "There will be a feast tonight where I will formally..." he stopped to look at Jaime and dropped his voice into a whisper Arianne could barely make out "formally announce your betrothal among other things such as," his next words were too quiet for her to make out, "so very exciting news and so on and so on, dress accordingly."

"Of course your grace," she smiled, and with that said he was leaving as slow as he had come.

Only to turn around once more and bellow, "and do your job boy, I don't ever want to see you sitting with the princess again!"

"Princess?" Arianne heard Jaime whisper, turning to look at his furrowed brow.

Her spirits were suddenly lifted and she mentioned Jaime to follow her and smiled at those who passed in a manner that frightened them. Arianne also let out the occasional "good morning," and if she knew the person walking past her, "how are you?" Which baffled many as she was commonly known as the quiet mistress to the Prince.

Jaime held his tongue, keeping himself from blurting a quick 'where are you going?' remembering that where he went was no longer in his control any longer. Something he had to remind himself of many times a day since he had been appointed the cursed role.

It seemed that she was leading them back to her old chambers, where a good chunk of her clothing was still stored. Knocking on the door twice to make sure none of her lady's in waiting occupied it. When there was no response she pushed the door open to reveal the room she had grown so accustomed to.

Jaime hovered at the door, unsure of whether or not he was to enter. "Sorry Ser Jaime, I'm going to be trying on a few dresses," and with that, the door was closed in his face abruptly.

"No worries," Jaime huffed, turning around to stand guard.

After what seemed like endless and mindless waiting, the door swung back open. "The King has said he will announce the betrothal, does this dress show that?"

Jaime rolled his eyes, turning around to judge the so-called dress. So much so for being one of the heroes of the Seven Kingdoms. Looking the dress up and down he couldn't help but notice it was starkly similar to the one she had worn when he had first seen her at the Tourney. "It's...lovely?"

"Why did you question it?" She frowned, looking down at the garment.

"I didn't, I'm just a man I don't care about dresses."

"Well fine then."

He shrugged his shoulders, "fine then."

Arianne huffed at him and slammed the door shut, only to emerge a few moments later in the same exact dress. "What about this one?"

"It's the same dress," Jaime responded, annoyed he was being included in this tedious conversation.

"No, it's not, this one is open back, the other one wasn't," she rebutted turning around to show him the design of it.

He let out a groan, "they look the same to me."

"You're useless."

"Well fine then."

"Fine then."

"Fine."

"Great."

"Splendid."

"Magnificent!"

Before she could utter another word, Jaime lost control of his senses. He could excuse what he did as a way to shut her up, but really and truly he just liked the way her lips moved and he had been wanting to kiss her since he had first seen her. Perhaps he wasn't as infatuated as he was when he had first seen her, but that didn't change the fact that he still wanted to kiss her. So he did just that, kiss her. Jaime was kissing Arianne. A Kingsguard was kissing the bastard who was to be betrothed to the King. The Kingsguard was unknowingly kissing the daughter of the King.

And as fate would have it, Rhaegar rounded the corridor as Jaime planted the kiss on her lips.

...