"I look like a... a sycophant." Beregard muttered as he waddled through the streets of King's Landing in his noble attire. The young lord hadn't worn such an attire since his brother's eighteenth nameday celebration. All of the cloth, the padding, the [i]layers[/i]... Beregard was entirely out of his element. He had ridden from Storm's End in his normal clothing, but he was required to change before even setting sights on the Red Keep. 

Behind him, a sharp laugh echoed through the streets. "You look like a high-price whore," Belinda heckled, "on his way to fuck the king." The bastard of Baratheon had a spring in her step today; probably from seeing her brother paraded about like he was. Belinda herself was not dressed like a noblewoman; she wore pants, a tight wool tunic, and a leather coat. Over her shoulder was a dark bow, white engravings dancing up the sides. Belinda was the only one accompanying Bear; those loyal to the Baratheons in the city insisted he have a long list of servants and guards, but Bear assured them he needed only his sister.

"At least I won't be housed in the kennels," Bear retorted. "We don't need to announce our arrival because they've [i]smelled[/i] you already." Anyone who observed the siblings walking in the streets would have a relatively complete understanding of their relationship; the two remained incredibly close, but their way of showing affection was... unique, at best. There was no malice behind their words, just playful banter.

"I just don't get it," Bear confessed after a few more blocks of silent waddling. "My mother has me trained from near birth by her secret lover - the father of her bastard - and then sends me out of [i]the continent[/i] for most of my young life. And, what? This is the endgame? Being a hostage of a King whose name I really have trouble remembering? Am I supposed to teach King Daemon how to stop being so foppish?"

"Our mother sees things different than most," Belinda said quietly. "As did my father. Everything they do, they do for a reason. And I told you never to question that while we're here." Bear just pouted, and the rest of the walk was silent.

When Bear finally reached the gates of the Red Keep, he sighed in exasperated relief. "Thank God! You there!" He hollered to the nearest guard. "I am Beregard Baratheon, son of Osyra Baratheon, Lady Paramount of the Stormlands. I have this sigil, here," Bear pointed to an empty spot on his chest.

"It's pinned on your cloak," Belinda offered.

"Here then," Bear spun around and showed the guards the silver stag, the official seal of House Baratheon. "I think that does it? If so, please take us to King Daenor."

The guards exchanged a curious glance before stopping Beregard from proceeding. "Who's the woman?" One asked. "We can't let someone like that into the keep."

"I am Lady Fuck You, personal guard to Beregard Baratheon. Now, we're on order of the king. Let us pass or I will deliver your disloyal heads at his feet when I meet him."

Beregard nodded. "Yeah, she's with me." 

The gate swung open, and the Baratheons entered the Red Keep.