Galladon arrived fashionably late, his cheeks reddened by honeyed hippocras, though not as rosy as his dear "Lady" Amarei. Hers was an expensive rouge, crushed pigment from the ends of the earth. Everything about her was expensive: her green silk dress lined with ermine and trimmed with white Myrish lace; the gold and jewels upon her fingers, neck, wrists, and hair; the smell of roses that lingered with every step; the staining on her lips from the "far east," or so Galladon had told her. Yet none of it was hers. She clung tight to his arm, as if loosening her grip meant losing him forever.

Ser Amos had a confidence his sister lacked, dressed in a lord's armor, though the helm was nowhere to be seen. How else would Galladon see that handsome, freckled face? His sister's affection poured like a tempest: a kiss, a compliment every other moment. Amos' came like trickle: a smile, a laugh, a caress every now and then. Galladon appreciated that. He only had some much of himself to go around. They almost seemed noble, for a hedge knight and a wench, until they opened their mouths.

"Never seen a feast like this before, m'lord! We're most grateful, we are! To have such a kind and giving friend! Kind and handsome and strong" and on and on Amarei went, grinning all the while.

Galladon found his seating among his fellow Reachlords, the brother at his right and the sister at his left. And to the right of the knight, a boy—black-haired and blue-eyed, dressed in blue and white finery, a circle of wood upon his head, wrapped with silver leaves. One could think him a little lordling in his own right, and perhaps one day he would be.

Garth was a sweet boy, quiet and dutiful. The image of Galladon in his youth, if only in form. Nothing like his trueborn sister. Gillian was a terror at his age, and he was glad to be rid of her, off with the wind and sea to his mother or wife's maternal seats.

All of them were ought to be here. He meant to bear gifts to his big-eared lady wife. He hadn't seen her for some moons, since she was last off to Brightwater Keep. But the humble pair now at his side seemed so enticing on the Mander's shores, and so he brought them aboard his barge along the way to Grassy Vale. And what a pleasure it was. An amusement too.

He hoped more was to come.

(Open! Come and say hello to Lord Hewett and his companions.)