"Really?"
Helena's eyes shimmered with disbelief.
"You are my fiancée," Galladon said steadily. "Why would I lie to you?"
The last light of sunset faded over the Gods Eye.
Helena suddenly stepped forward and buried herself in his arms.
Galladon instinctively wrapped his arms around her back. Her hair brushed against his fingers. She was warm and trembling.
He adjusted his hold, lifting her gently onto his lap in the small boat.
For a moment, the world seemed to still.
Helena hid her flushed face against his chest, heart pounding wildly. The warmth between them made her dizzy.
"Helena…"
He lifted her chin softly.
Their lips met beneath the darkening sky.
The lake grew quiet. Stars emerged overhead.
When they finally parted, Galladon whispered, "Do you have a wish?"
"A wish?"
"Yes. I have a special way of making one."
He produced two small paper lanterns from beneath the deck.
Helena watched in curiosity as he handed her a quill.
"Write your wish for me. I'll write mine for you."
They sealed their slips of paper inside the lanterns.
With Helena holding a small flame, Galladon lit them.
The lanterns swayed, then slowly rose into the sky.
Helena gasped softly as the glowing shapes drifted upward, climbing toward the stars.
She clutched his arm, speechless.
When they returned to shore, Stoin and the others had prepared a bonfire feast.
Roasted lamb, beef, chickens, fruit, and soup filled the night air with a rich fragrance.
They dined together in laughter.
Later, Galladon escorted Helena back to the Hightower camp.
Alerie and the others greeted them with teasing smiles.
Helena, red-faced, hurried inside her tent.
Galladon exchanged a few words with Lord Leyton and Baelor before returning to his own camp.
He trained beneath the stars before washing in the cool lake water.
Tomorrow was the opening of the tournament.
The Opening Day
The next morning, the sea of tents buzzed with excitement.
Crowds streamed toward Harrenhal.
But before Lord Whent appeared to begin the event, thunderous hoofbeats echoed from the south.
Hundreds of horses.
Dust rose along the Kingsroad.
Speculation spread among the nobles.
Then, through the smoke, a black banner bearing a blood-red three-headed dragon emerged.
Silence fell.
House Targaryen.
But Prince Rhaegar had arrived days ago.
There was only one explanation left.
The king.
White cloaks appeared in formation.
"The King has arrived!"
Prince Rhaegar's expression shifted.
Robert, Mace Tyrell, Rickard Stark, Jon Arryn, Hoster Tully—many great lords stiffened.
They had not expected him.
Mad King Aerys had come without warning.
Any plans of private discussion during the opening feast were now impossible.
As the royal procession halted, Lord Whent rushed forward and knelt.
"Your Majesty, House Whent welcomes you!"
The carriage door opened.
A figure stepped out.
He looked down at Whent coldly.
"Rise."
When the crowd saw him clearly, murmurs rippled outward.
His nails were long and yellowed.
His beard tangled.
His hair unkempt and matted.
Though dressed in rich garments, he appeared haggard and unstable.
This was their king?
Some commoners cheered out of loyalty or fear.
Others stood frozen.
Galladon watched from within the crowd.
A faint smile curved at his lips.
The game had truly begun.
(End of Chapter 31)
A/N:
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