Festival of Roses

Despite his satisfaction with the steeplechase, the joust was tomorrow, and Lorent decided to take his steed out for a lazy ride. He wasn't sure if he needed more than the horse did, but the night was pleasant, not too chill, and he felt calmer for it. The great white horse was splashing through the shallows at the edge of the river, picking its hooves up high as it went.

The steeplechase always had the effect on Alicent of making her want to ride, but she hadn't gotten the chance earlier. Now she found herself sliding off Moonshadow and guiding her down to let her drink from the river after a vigorous run. She spotted the white horse from a little way off, and he undoubtedly spotted her hair from the same distance, her dress similarly pale, but a soft gold rather than her hair's silver this evening. "Ser Lorent," she greeted with a warm smile.

For a moment, Lorent was struck speechless. He dismounted, using the moment to recompose himself, bowing, "Lady Alicent, you are a vision. I could speak to the way the moonlight compliments you, or how the ripples that sparkle on the water envy you, but I fear that anything I could say would be pale and trite in your loveliness."

She couldn't help but flush a little at the compliments. She'd regarded her appearance as something of a curse on her, but... "Even if it might sound pale and trite to your ears, it almost makes me able to imagine something like that." She pulls gently, self-consciously on a wavy lock of silver hair. "You have a way with words."

"My grandmother was Dornish, a beautiful and passionate woman until the very end. I should like to think that I learnt well from her." He seemed entirely unabashed about it.

"Did you get her sense of passion, as well as the way with words?" She asked. The girl had seduced someone only a few nights previous, and they'd established a flirtatious tone to their relationship right away... Alicent had not particular reason not to go that route again now.

Chuckling softly, "I'd like to think that I needed no help with that, but she did teach me some things a proper lady has no right knowing." Lorent winked playfully.

Her eyebrows rose slightly. "Hmm... Now, I could have accepted no business knowing it, and perhaps that might be true... but no right? Telling a curious person that is a dangerous activity, don't you think?"

Exhaling sharply, "forgive my over-eager tongue, it does run away with me on occasion. I should more rightly say that I have learnt things that no grandmother should be teaching to her grandchildren, not outside of Dorne, anyway."

She smiled. "I'm sorry." She approached and put a pale hand on his arm. She's close enough that the evening breeze can carry the scent of cinnamon from her to his nose. "I think I understand. You do have that look about you... like you've spent a good deal of time that far south."