"Hahahaha!" King Robert roared with laughter, thoroughly enjoying the feast and entirely unbothered by the monstrous social atrocity he had just committed.
Meanwhile, the bride and groom sat stiffly, their faces tight as they forced themselves to smile.
Mace Tyrell, Renly Baratheon, and Edmure Tully laughed and joked freely, happily gorging themselves on the lavish spread.
Stannis and Selyse were the only ones truly suffering.
Truthfully, there wasn't much affection between the newlyweds to begin with. Selyse was remarkably plain-faced, and Stannis was a harsh, rigid man who showed little interest in her.
"Lord Stannis is not going to be happy about any of this," Ser Lucas Dayne murmured to Arthur.
Marriage alliances were fundamentally transactions of value.
Jon Arryn's design for this particular union was incredibly shrewd, clearly meant to keep Stannis in check.
House Florent was merely a secondary Great House in the Reach, despite their ancient bloodline, and they were notoriously at odds with their liege lords, House Tyrell. The Florents firmly believed their claim to Highgarden was vastly superior to the Tyrells', a grievance they voiced frequently, constantly undermining their overlords.
Furthermore, Stannis's bride was merely the daughter of Lord Alester Florent's deceased younger brother—a secondary branch of the family. Lord Alester himself already had Lord Leyton Hightower and Lord Randyll Tarly for sons-in-law; there was absolutely no reason for him to throw the full weight of his house behind Stannis.
And now, with this humiliating farce of a bedding, Stannis had lost even more face.
"What is there to say?" Arthur murmured back, glancing up at the high table.
The political chessboard of the Great Lords was already riddled with fractures.
A hopelessly drunken King, a simmering, furious groom, and an exhausted, helpless Hand of the King—it was a spectacular combination.
And that wasn't even factoring in the two bitter rivals sitting just down the table: the Duke of Highgarden and the Lord of Brightwater Keep.
As for Robert's absurd tryst with Delena, Lord Florent was likely thrilled by the development. Delena was also from a secondary branch of the family, meaning her standard marriage value was relatively low. If she managed to catch the King's eye... well, that was a completely different story.
"Enjoy the feast!" the herald bellowed over the blaring horns.
"Cheers!"
"Cheers!"
The first course of Stannis's wedding feast was a thick, savory mushroom stew served in gilded bowls, designed to line the stomach before the heavy drinking began.
"Not bad," Arthur noted after taking a spoonful. He was perfectly content to just eat his food. Robert might have turned the wedding into a humiliating circus, but Arthur wasn't going to let an expensive meal go to waste.
Once the goblets were refilled, the second course arrived: flaky pastries stuffed with minced pork, pine nuts, and eggs.
"In celebration of the union between Lord Stannis Baratheon and Lady Selyse Florent, let the music begin!" the heralds announced.
The musicians struck up a lively tune, instantly launching into the bawdiest, most vulgar tavern songs available. It was exactly the kind of music King Robert loved, which meant everyone else pretended to love it too.
"The Bear and the Maiden Fair!" "I Tasted a Dornishman's Wife!"
Songs like The Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone were played to appease the pious, while My Lady's Favor stoked the romantic fires of the younger guests.
Arthur happily devoured sweetcorn fritters, oatbread baked with diced dates, apples, and oranges, and massive chunks of buttered lobster.
The courses arrived faster and faster, accompanied by increasingly elaborate performances. As the wine flowed freely, the servants brought out lighter fare: clear beef broth, and massive platters of chicken stewed in honeyed wine and white almonds.
Arthur was undeniably the star of the feast. He was the young, striking heir to one of the wealthiest houses in the realm, and he had just shocked the entire castle with an utterly dominant tourney performance.
"Don't forget to visit the armory and claim your prize, little bat!" Robert called out between massive belches. "Have Ser Barristan take you!"
"I am deeply grateful for Your Grace's generosity," Arthur replied smoothly, bowing his head.
"You're a terrifyingly strong boy, Master Arthur. You will undoubtedly win much glory in the years to come," Lord Randyll Tarly said, his tone unusually warm.
"Thank you for the high praise, Lord Tarly," Arthur replied, clinking his goblet against the famously stern marcher lord's.
Randyll hadn't brought his Valyrian steel greatsword, Heartsbane, to the feast; it was likely secured in his quarters, as a massive two-handed sword tended to get in the way of heavy drinking.
There were four truly legendary greatswords in Westeros. Three were forged of Valyrian steel: Heartsbane, Ice, and the lost Brightroar. The fourth was the pale, meteor-forged Dawn, which was every bit their equal.
Arthur spent the rest of the feast bonding with his newly acquired "tourney brothers": Donnel Swann, Jasper Redfort, Justin Massey, Richard Horpe, and Imry Florent. Justin and Richard proved to possess terrifying hollow legs when it came to drinking, successfully drinking Donnel and Jasper under the table.
The young men laughed, boasted, and drank, bonding like brothers forged in the same fire.
"Congratulations! Congratulations!" the lords cheered, raising their cups to Stannis.
The groom returned the toasts with a stiff, utterly joyless nod.
Stannis lacked the striking good looks of Robert or Renly, and he possessed absolutely none of their innate, magnetic charisma. He was cold, rigid, and abrasive. Whether dealing with high lords or common peasants, he seemed entirely incapable of inspiring genuine affection.
"Bring out the pie!"
It was time for the crowning moment of the feast. A colossal wedding pie, carried by six sweating, beaming cooks, was slowly marched into the Great Hall.
The guests leapt to their feet, cheering wildly and clashing their goblets together. The pie was massive, its golden-brown crust thick and flaky. From within, the muffled sounds of frantic chirping and fluttering wings could be heard.
Stannis and his wife stood, gripping a massive ceremonial knife together. They drove the blade through the crust, and instantly, seventy-seven snow-white doves burst from the pie, taking flight.
The birds scattered in every direction, frantically flapping their wings before perching on the rafters and high windowsills, filling the air with a flurry of drifting white feathers.
The hall erupted in thunderous applause, the fiddles and pipes launching into a frenzied, joyous melody.
Stannis picked his bride up and spun her around, forcing a stiff, agonizingly fake look of joy onto his face.
Once the great pie was carved and served, and the bawdy songs had run their course, the musicians switched to a driving, rhythmic beat, chanting, "The Queen takes off her shoe, the King casts off his crown!"
"To bed! To bed! The bedding!"
The guests swarmed the high table, the most heavily intoxicated lords leading the charge.
Men, both young and old, surrounded Lady Selyse, hoisting her into the air with raucous laughter. The women and girls swarmed Stannis, giggling as they began to tear at his fine clothes.
It was time to escort the newlyweds to the bedchamber.
The most vulgar bedding ceremonies often involved the guests completely stripping the bride and groom naked while shouting graphic, lewd jokes. However, given that both Stannis and Selyse were notoriously severe, joyless people, the crowd showed a rare moment of restraint and kept things relatively tame.
As for the wedding bed itself... hopefully, the servants had managed to scrub out the scent of Robert and Delena, and lay out fresh sheets.
The bride and groom were carried out of the Great Hall on the shoulders of the cheering crowd, a massive throng of nobles pouring out after them. The feast had officially come to an end.
Arthur stood and made his exit. The farcical spectacle was over, but the political and emotional fractures it had created would last forever.
At least weddings are still just weddings, Arthur thought dryly. It hasn't devolved into the era of the Red Wedding yet.
For now, you could attend a feast without needing to wear chainmail under your silk.
---
The next day. Clear skies, calm seas.
With the wedding concluded, the heavily hungover lords of the Seven Kingdoms began their orderly departure from Dragonstone.
"Thank you all for coming," Stannis said icily, standing on the docks to see the guests off.
The only nobles remaining on the island were the newlyweds, the bride's second uncle, Ser Axell Florent, and her cousin, Delena. Ser Axell would remain on Dragonstone to serve as Stannis's castellan.
Since Stannis was famously devoid of warmth or charm, no one took offense at his frosty farewell. Dragonstone was a barren, miserable rock with terrible living conditions; no one wanted to stay any longer than necessary. Factor in the massive, deeply awkward scandal involving Robert and Delena, and everyone was eager to leave.
Arthur boarded the Lady Lyanna for the return trip to King's Landing.
When he had arrived on Dragonstone, he was a complete unknown.
As he left, he carried the towering, undeniable prestige of a tourney champion.
A twelve-year-old prodigy had taken the field and utterly dominated fighters years his senior. He had completely obliterated the Riverlands' reputation for martial incompetence. It was an impossibly perfect, legendary narrative.
With so many young nobles having witnessed the spectacle, and with the bards already composing their songs, it wouldn't be long before the legend of the "Bat Knight" spread to every corner of the Seven Kingdoms.
But first, Arthur Whent had an appointment in King's Landing. As the King's honored guest, he was going to claim his prize from the Royal Armory.