[u][b]Khailey Lannister[/b][/u]

Khailey was a bit stunned by the way that Lord Jakob had reacted. She brushed a loose lock of hair out of her face as she watched him leave. She then turned and made her way to her room, shutting the door behind her and slipping out of her dress before putting on a nightgown and sitting on her bed. She thought about his words. She wasn't scared of the Targaryens. Her father had already told her that he meant to someday make certain that she was queen and that her son would sit upon the Iron Throne. Then she wouldn't have to worry about anything, especially not listening to the gossiping of lesser women.

[u][b]Ser Vernan Lannister[/b][/u]

He hated feasts like these, especially when he had so many other things on his mind. Sitting at a small table in the corner of the room, which the servants had brought out to him because his bad leg made it hard for him to stand for too long, his eyes scanned the crowd like a lion would scan a herd of antelope, looking for the weakest one to pick off. He didn't trust this rabble. How could he? Many of them were still loyal to the Targaryens or too scared to admit that they weren't.

Sitting at the table with him was his most trusted friend and ally, Ser Lothor Clegane. The man was an imposing bull of a man with a short, well-trimmed beard, dark eyes, and not a single hair on his head. He sipped his wine slowly and stared at the cup when he wasn't. This wasn't a man who enjoyed simple comforts. He was a warrior, and knew next to nothing else.

Ser Vernan leaned back in his chair and sighed, hoping that this farce would be over soon so that he may leave. He felt that they should just get it over with and confirm everyone's suspicions that the Stark boy would be the new hand. Why waste all of their times? While watching the crowd, he noticed the Lord of the Crossing speaking with the Dornish Princess. He had seen the man speaking to his daughter earlier and wondered where she had gone off to. She better not have gone back to her room.