the mention of his father caused a tightening in his chest, too long having passed since they had been in each other's company. while some of his siblings might have spent years away from home as heir ned had never drifted. he had been his father's shadow the same way that his own daughter now traced his steps. with frequent ravens no substitute for his company he felt the loss of his constant companion almost daily. never more so than at such gatherings, unable to know if he truly was doing his father and his house proud. emotion rose briefly to the back of his throat, suddenly feeling like a child in need of his father's approval once more. "thank you, I did my best but the king was a worthy winner." the uncertain boy in him longs to ask about his father but it is ignored in favour of pleasantries. "do you intend to compete elsewhere?"

𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐎𝐋𝐃    for these games. that's something his brother has yet to learn, though glen's lived long enough to know that he's probably better off humoring matthos than continuing to refuse him. three events, he'd promised the king, no more, no less. a sizeable amount, in glendon's opinion, over a fortnight of celebration. but even as he promised his participation, glen could not promise effort. drystan had taken him by surprise this day—he will not deprive his nephew of that—but perhaps that was but another sign that his time as a peak athlete was long past. so many of the king's children were competing, especially in the upcoming races. while his inner competitor chafes at the notion fo throwing a bout, glen as an uncle doesn't mind pampering his (    fully grown    ) relatives. he supposes, if his company was so inclined (    although he doubted it; ned is rickard's son through and through    ), glen could find it in himself to extend this generosity.  ❝    i will be participating, aye,    ❞    confirms glen.    ❝    in the horse race and the joust. we'll see how well these brittle bones hold up.    ❞

perhaps he should have found himself more concerned with his own safety after an attempt had come so close to robbing the kingdoms of their queen. but the prince considered himself far too beloved to be at risk of such a thing. it was why he had found himself at a tavern with just a guard, confident that not only would no one be of any kind of threat to him, that even if someone did surprise him he would be able to handle them. but any thought of such a risk had long since left his mind, attention drawn by jests and the raucous laughter of those around him. he was midway through pouring himself another glass of wine when the sight of the lord commander of the kingsguard briefly made him pause. "uncle!" table was leaned over to ensure he got the elder baratheon's attention, hand moving to shoo one of his companions from their chair to make space for him. "come, join me. you look like you could use a drink. take a break from all your worrying."

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄,    glen's brother and nephew. but the adage like father, like son exists for a reason, he supposes. he'd never felt comfortable in places like this. even when matthos dragged him out to taverns and dimly lit streets to drag glen full-bodied out of his shell, all it had done was make him retreat further in. it was too loud, too smelly, the floors too sticky . glen held the hem of his white cloak as he waded through the throng. a towering hulk of a man with or without armor, the sea parted easily for kingsguard to meet prince. glen eyed the offered seat warily and remained standing. he should be back with the king and queen, ensuring that he made up for his and his cohort's earlier lapse. he understood that there was no love lost between step-mother and tstep-children, and yet even so, the boy (   man, glen must remind himself, sebastion already four-and-thirty    )  ought to take more care. the crown and its kin were often seen as one and the same by those who didn't mind a little blood.  ❝    it seems to me, your highness,    ❞    chastises glen,     ❝    that you are not worrying enough.    ❞    a critical eye, disappointed and accusatory, found its way to the prince's guard as well.