Rhaecerys had never felt so nervous in his life. He was the eldest son of the king. He was tall, a decent swordsman, and fairly regarded as pleasing to the eye. By all rights, he had nothing to worry about. All the same, he found himself acting like he had when scolded by his father as a foolish child. He sat very properly in the settee in the antechamber, entire body tensed, twisting his hands in his lap.
Perhaps he would not be so nervous if Silya Velaryon was not the woman she was, and if the man he was meeting with today, Lord Nikolaus Velaryon, did not have the reputation he did, but most of all if he was not here to ask for permission to marry the woman he loved. Lady Seraya Velaryon had met with him as soon as he’d arrived, and while she’d greeted him politely and assured him that her husband would be arriving soon, he felt as though they had been waiting there for hours.
The door opened, and Rhaecerys stood up immediately, eyes spinning. He looked at the man before him and all the blood drained from his face. It wasn’t that Lord Nikolaus Velaryon appeared to be trying to be intimidating, but he exuded a sort of casual pressure. It was, in fact, the kind of casual pressure his beloved Silya seemed to carry with her everywhere. In normal circumstances, that pressure would’ve caused him to take a careful step back, but in this circumstance, Rhaecerys felt like he might swoon.
“L-L-L-Lor-hhd.” His voice had never been as inadequate as it appeared to be today. Coughing, he stammered again, “Uhm. I-if you- I- M-my-” It was really no use. In a rush of breath, he attempted to say, “Lord Velaryon, if I may, I have come to ask for your daughter Lady Silya’s hand in marriage.” What actually came out was a long breath that was entirely unintelligible even to his ears.
Lord Velaryon’s heavy-set, steel grey eyebrows shot way up, dark violet eyes widening probably farther than they normally did. The older man did not seem to quite understand what he was supposed to do with that, and simply watched him. Rhaecerys swallowed, face a horrible vermillion to add to his embarrassment, and turned to Lady Velaryon, too horrified to realize that the woman was shaking with barely repressed laughter. “I will return another day.” He told her, and with a polite bow, he picked up his coat and fled.