His father had said that it would only be a few hours, then they'd all go home. Patronizing though it may have been, Aegon nodded at the promise. If Rhaenys wanted him to stay longer, he'd acquiesce, but Rhaegar would only have his 'few hours'. After that, Aegon was leaving, with or without a ride home.
The ballroom is grander than his family or any of their guests could ever warrant. Aegon walks in with his head held high, but his eyes rove anxiously over the crowd. He is here to support his father. Let him be elected to parliament, he thinks. It would take him out of his and Rhaenys' lives. As he smiles and shakes hands, Aegon makes certain not to let his feelings suffuse his gestures.
"I'm going to find a drink," he whispers to Rhaenys. He isn't much of a drinker, but they both understand that's code for, 'I need to get away from dad.' All that charm and poise they don't see at home can be hard to take when offered to perfect strangers.
Aegon thinks of the books he's stashed away in the lobby. What good is he doing anyone here? Slicking back his hair, he approaches the bar and scowls at a woman cackling beside him. "Soda," he murmurs, then adds, "And scotch."
A few hours, his father had said. They'll be here all night. Scotch will make the party-goers tolerable, and, failing that, it will make his political science text a hell of a lot more interesting.
