[b][u]Gwayne Tyrell - Lord of Highgarden[/u][/b]

Before their conversation had a chance to go any further, a hush fell over the crowd. A little ways from where Gwayne stood, Daeron was escorted into the Great Hall by the Kingsguard, their polished, white armour casting quite a nasty glare. Still, Gwayne knew better than to just stand there, gawking, and he bid a quick farewell to Jakob and Khailey. In just a few moments after the coronation, the lords and ladies of Westeros would be required to bend the knee, swearing fealty to their new King - even if it [i]was[/i] just a needless formality.

So, it was with no small degree of relief that the coronation itself passed by quickly. The trip from Highgarden had taken quite a bit out of him, and Gwayne would prefer retiring to his quarters as quickly as possible before the feast. But alas, this swearing of loyalty to the King was something else entirely - its priority far outweighing any need for rest. And so, Gwayne stepped forwards when his name was called, approaching the Iron Throne and taking a knee. “House Tyrell’s loyalty to the Crown never wavers, your grace. We swear our fealty to the One True King.”

The rest of the ceremony passed by in a blur, and Gwayne nearly lost count of how many times the phrase [i]‘the One True King’[/i] had been repeated. Only a few others had really caught his attention, one of them being the young Lord Stark. It was clear for all to see that he and the King were close. Perhaps a little too close for comfort. If John were to become Hand of the King, well, that would prove quite the inconvenience for House Tyrell, wouldn’t it? Northerners always had such silly ideals - of honour, of courage - the last thing they needed was another war.