The grounds stirred with incoming guests as they made their way through to the inner courtyard of Storm’s End. A plethora of multi-colored lanterns adorned walls and the tables near the opened entrance, dispersing the darkness of the night. A rising laughter could be heard from various groups of ladies as they chattered near the feasting tables while pleasant music echoed through the courtyard. The night had been clear and the air just warm enough to make it a nearly perfect evening. With Stannis Baratheon being the new occupant of the castle, a soiree had to be hosted in his honor. Most who knew Stannis were certain that this had to be the work of one of his advisers, but no one complained when invites went out for the masked ball. Anyone of any kind of status in the Stormlands was invited to attend and by the looks of it it seemed that most had accepted. The lords and ladies of the Stormlands strolling through the courtyard, quipping pleasantries at one another while hiding behind their lavish masks and costumes.
It hadn’t been too long since he had arrived in the Stormlands and already Aegon had had just the right connections to get him places. Word of the ball had reached him in Griffin’s Roost and curiosity had gotten the best of him. Despite Lord Connington insisting on him to keep a low profile and ramining in Griffin’s Roost until they were ready to take Storm’s End, Aegon had been too intrigued by the opportunity of mingling with the lords and ladies whose lands he would soon take. After assuring Connington that he would be careful and even inviting him to come along as a guard, he had gotten his wish.
Masked with a red and black dragon mask and a vibrant velvet outfit to match, he had found himself entering the courtyard of Storm’s End with a slight feeling of exhilaration. It thrilled him to be surrounded by nobility that hadn’t the slightest idea who he was. Even if he told anyone that he was a Targaryen, it was unlikely that they would believe him. After all, the last Targaryen was Daenerys who was still far away in Essos to their knowledge.
“It’s rather exhilarating, isn’t it?” he said as he smiled at Lord Connington. The man grunted in a response, not seeming nearly as excited to be there. Aegon chuckled. “You’re more than welcome to stay by the feasting table, I’ll be alright on my own.” It seemed that Lord Connington didn’t need another invite as he wandered off, looking rather cross at having been dragged to a masked ball. A deep sigh escaped Aegon’s lips as he looked around the bustling courtyard.
Already several couples had begun dancing on the vast marble deck leading into the castle. He slowly began walking through the courtyard, curiously observing the lords, ladies and knights that chattered excitedly around him. More and more of the guests broke off into couples and joined the other dancers. He trailed behind towards the deck, seemingly unseen in the crowd. He soon found himself leaning against one of the stone walls near the wine table. Within moments a servant had brought him a goblet of summer wine and he gladly took it before returning to watching the dancers.
Lyanna didn’t know how she got herself into these things. Dancing and singing for the masked ball at Storm’s End was quite the step up from her usual tavern experiences. She’d even had to spend a pretty penny on her ballgown and mask. The gown was a deep shade of crimson that flowed around her like blood with every step that she took. Her mask that spiraled and glittered around her eyes was a rich looking gold. The color made her eyes shine like jewels.
Throughout the night she’d been running to and fro making sure that everyone looked to be enjoying themselves by either dancing, drinking, or conversation; as was her job. As the girl moved from person to person, she kept a pretty smile on her lips. They were all so blissfully unaware of the people working here to keep them happy. Men who would no sooner glance at a lady with no surname, much less talk to them, were now happily waltzing them around the dance floor, gazing at their masked perfection. She found it all quite sickening really, but she was here for a purpose. If she could finally work up enough money, then Westeros would no longer be her concern.
As Lyanna’s mind worked it way through her plan once more, her eyes caught sight of a man standing against the courtyard wall. He was sipping wine. Clad in a red and black dragon’s costume, the boy sure caught her eye. He was around her age, as many of the lords and ladies attending the ball tonight were, but unlike the rest, he was not making any attempt to socialize. That only is probably what drew Lyanna to him.
"Hello, milord." She dared a curtsey to the man in red. Her painted lips turned up in a small smile as her eyes took on a questioning gleam. "Why ever are you standing on the side, when a ball such as this was born for dancing?" Smoothly, the girl who hid her lineage so well lifted delicately a hand to offer him. Although is was her job to dance with the men on the sidelines, something about this one in particular had Lyanna wanting to dance with him. She desired to know so much more about him. "And I will not take two left feet as an excuse."