Jaer walked behind Toria as they made their way through the castle, his thoughts trailing back to times long gone now... Chasing the echoes of Aeny and Elia's laughter... the look his father gave him when he found Jaehaerys had lent Aeny his silver cloak as a pool for her dolls to swim in... the way Jayk Darvell had offered every night to fetch the moon for Aeny if only she'd smile... the look on Brendan Rosby's face the night Elia kissed him... the ghosts strode past him as they walked, faces blurred and laughter bright. Only his father looked on solemnly.
By the time they reached Toria's rooms he was praying only that they would vanish. He barely heard her words to her maid before her arms came around him. He looked down at her for a moment before he returned the embrace, though his motions still were stiff.
"I thank you, my lady," he said, taking refuge in formal phrases as whatever was within him finished slashing at whatever strength he could hold on to. His voice was low but the tone of court was the only he could safely manage. "There is no need to concern yourself. Your kin too are in grave danger. I wonder your lord father has not yet sent you to Casterly along with your brothers."