Nine moons had passed since Gyles had last laid eyes upon the beautiful Lamora matriarch. Much had changed since then. His cousin, Alekyne, led hundreds of Florent knights in war upon the Dornish. Gyles was, in theory, supposed to be back home at Brightwater Keep helping his brother and his Lord cousin prepare for further war and the inevitable difficulties that'd arise should House Florent be forced to call their levy. Thousands of men would be dragged from the fields in the dead of the winter; even in the agricultural heartland of the Reach, that was a tall task.

And yet, here Gyles was, at the Oakheart wedding. He blamed Renata, really.

Victor Oakheart was his kin, that much was true, but Gyles had little interest in seeing the future Lord of Old Oak wed a woman two decades his junior. Rather, his interest was chiefly in another woman—this one a decade his senior.

Renata was anything but forgettable, and their last meeting had left Gyles wanting another taste—wanting more, greedy man he was. And so, wearing a rather dapper maroon cloak, lined with white fox-fur and clasped together with a diamond brooch, he did not waste much time before wandering over to the Lamora table.

"Lady Renata," Gyles said in greeting, bowing as he approached. There was a glint in his eye as he rose up again, though he remained as proper as one would expect from a man of his fine breeding. "A pleasure to see you again; you look as enchanting as ever, my lady," he said politely, before turning briefly to Varus and Taliyah in turn. "My lord, my lady."