Having eaten his fill earlier, Ser Jahar stood at attention at his post, off to one side of the high table, armored in his ceremonial white breastplate—the practicality of which in battle was debatable. He'd chosen to wear a short sword and a dagger to the event, the dagger hidden in a sheath at the back of his waist, obscured by his flowing, stainless white cloak. It was a good vantage point, as he commanded a view of the entire room, and he was afforded very quick access to his King.
He smiled as Lord William and Princess Elia—soon to be Queen—were introduced graciously. Applauding politely, he considered the gathering here. It was conservative and quiet, which boded well for the King's prowess in the political sphere—it would not do to have a lavish festival when the rest of the Crownlands were suffering as they were, especially with the plague afoot and the unrest that still existed out on the streets.
His eyes darted around the room, trying to pick out where the other Kingsguard knights had stationed themselves.