The Feast!

Margaery is sat at the high table, wearing an extremely skimpy dress, most likely for your benefit. The rest of the Tyrells sit on that table to, but the space on the right of Lord Mace is empty.

“Your Grace! Would you be so kind as to sit next to me?” Mace calls, noticing you enter

“Of course” You smile and walk over

“I had a few questions about your Small Council, Your Grace” Mace says nervously

“Ask away. And please, call me Jaehaerys.”

“Would there perhaps be any available spaces for your father in law?” He asks quietly

“Quite possibly, yes. What are your talents? I had considered replacing most of the council.”

“Master of Laws might suit my skill sets, Jaehaerys.”

“Then that is what you shall be. I plan to make Randyll Tarly the Master of War, and Paxter Redwyne the Master of Ships. What do you think of that?”

“I like it, Jaehaerys! Randyll especially is one of the greatest soldiers in the Seven Kingdoms, and Paxter’s fleet rivals the Ironborn’s.

“Then it is settled.”

“I need some sleep” Ser Loras stands up suddenly “May I be excused?”

“Of course, Loras” Mace turns back to you “I am certainly happy with you as our King, Jaehaerys.”

You continue to eat, drink and speak for a few hours, then decide that it’s time for some sleep. You’re not drunk, but you are a little dizzy, and wander into the wrong room.