"Your Grace," Ormund entered the council chamber for the meeting. Nora had invited him, she had decided to try and assess his intentions herself.
"Cousin," Nora smiled. "Please, sit."
"Where is the King?" Ormund pressed, noting the Queen's attire. It was hardly modest, it lacked a feminie softness. Regal, yet...not demure like a woman ought to be.
"The King is being seen by the maester," Nora said smoothly. "Having his old injury checked."
Ormund didn't buy it for a moment.
Later that day, Ormund paid a visit to his dear cousin, Alicent.
"Ormund." Alicent looked up, surprised to see him.
"Cousin." Ormund gave a disarming smile.
"I sat in the small council meeting today," Ormund sat and recalled. "Your daughter chairs many of these meetings, I gather."
"Daenora is capable," Alicent said. "She learnt much, from my father."
"And yet I've not seen the King since I've arrived to the capital." Ormund replied.
He saw how Alicent tensed but kept a smile on her face.
"And I've been to the Sept every day since, and I see that the late Queen- may she rest in peace- has been made...a saint? The King has finally sought out the Faith- a rare thing for a Targaryen, and when he does it is to have the High Septon make her a Saint, for her suffering."
"She did suffer," Alicent said quietly. "And her death deeply wounded the King. He did what he had to, so that he could find some comfort."
"Wounded indeed." Ormund replied. "Wound of the body...or the mind?"
Alicent and he could be such a team, they are both so cunty I can't deal
