[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/j57TT80/Frozen-Royal-Shipwreck.jpg[/img][/center]

[center][b][h3][color=PaleTurquoise] A Crown wreathed in Ice - Frigid Eastern Coast of Skagos[/color][/h3][/b][/center]

"I warned him..." The youth spoke aloud to the frozen knight, his teeth chattering from the cold wind blowing off the ocean. Deep violet eyes peered out from sunken sockets, their gaze cruel and vicious as they rifled through the dead man's affects. "Ahhh... tsk tsk Ser, keeping such tithes from the Royal Blood is tantamount to treason. Yet, I suppose I can forgive you..." He kicked at the shield, breaking a thin layer of ice from the front, revealing a duly colored sigil of pily grey and black. The youth took two long swigs from the skin, relishing the sweet flavors of the Arbor. "Your taxes are duly appreciated... but alas, you are a drab and cold companion for conversation. I must be off, places to be, women to bed, a kingdom to rule..." The youth's boot kicked at the knight's face, a dull thud and crack resonating out, before being replaced by the crashing of waves again.

"I warned him... and the daft fool didn't heed me..." The youth muttered again, as he stalked off further inland.
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[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/CnMmL9k/Royal-Invatation.jpg[/img][/center]

[center][b][h3][color=DarkRed] A Royal Invitation - To all the Houses of Westeros, Great and Small[/color][/h3][/b][/center]

As the sun sets, the Master of Ravens within the Red Keep unleashes a massive murder of Ravens, each black bird carrying a royal invitation to a most joyous and celebratory occasion. Roughly two fortnights from the date of sending, or rather, coinciding with the end of summer, House Targaryen would be hosting the wedding of Maegelle Targaryen to Pickard Arryn, and the celebration of the year's Summer Fair. To mark this occasion, the King had decreed a massive feast, tournament of arms, and of course, the wedding celebration itself. The festivities would be taking place across from King's Landing, in a newly constructed pavilion by the Blackwater Rush and the Kingswood. Soon, word would be out all across the Seven Kingdoms, and with that, a massive influx of people all coming to drink, eat, fight, wench, and celebrate. Far below, in the Small Council chamber, Lord Royce Coldwater looked over a pile of documents, shaking his head.

"Easy enough to command me to keep the peace, when he's not bloody here," The man hissed aloud, as he took stock of the Gold Cloaks strength and roster. "I need more men to keep the peace, more money to pay the men, and more thrice cursed hay to feed all the horses for mounted patrols." Lord Coldwater leaned back in his chair, relishing a long sip of Dornish Red, before taking another bite of the summer sausage on his plate. He looked down at an open letter from the King, having been sent fifteen days ago now from Braavos, telling the Small Council that he expected to be home soon, and that things had gone better than even the Seven could have ordained. Trouble was, they should have had word by now from the King, who would have made port at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. Perhaps a storm had slowed him, or the damned bird had died. Not much use in worrying over things he could not control. All that could be done was draft up a funding request to the Master of Coin, and implore the westerman Lord Gawen Payne of the need for all that he was putting down to paper. "I swear by the Gods, if he bloody refuses to grant the funding for more men, he can use his own personal guard to help us keep the peace." He took another swig of wine, before continuing to write. Beside him, the aged Grand Maester slept quietly, have drifted off a little while ago. "At least one of us can sleep..."

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In the royal apartments, the twin babes Daemon and Daenora slept peacefully, snuggled next to their mother, Princess Brella. She smiled at them both, planting a tender kiss upon their heads, as she sunk deeper into the bed with them. "My little ones, you are destined for greatness, your father, he is a great man, blood of Valyria and the Iron Isles. You two... I love you both so dearly. I can't wait for your father to come home and see you both again, and how much you've grown." Brella spoke aloud, ever so softly, as to not wake the sleeping babes. Her sea green eyes looked down at her babes, before they closed, and she too drifted off to sleep. A gray cat slunk into the bed, before curling up between Brella's legs, and she too, falling asleep, purring aloud.