"You always have been combative." What might be a scathing rebuke of anybody else, coming from Alayne, sounds only like affection now. Perhaps it is hypocritical of her, to allow her sister grace where she would not anyone else, but it is her right, for she watched Lysara grow up, as opposed to growing up with her. Not as a mother, for whom she had to discipline and prepare, but as a guardian, a role model, a sister, a friend. Who else in the world is there for Alayne to indulge if not her? "Gods forbid I be labelled rude." Brows arch dramatically, dark chuckle escaping her at the mere suggestion. (She has been called far worse during council meetings, in truth.) Little attention is paid to the wandering gazes and whispers exchanged as they progress toward the doors, aware as she is of the infamy still afforded to her dismissal, all those moons ago. "And I you. It is the only benefit of this celebration, if you ask me: that we are reunited once again." Even if their sister remains imprisoned, goes the bitter addendum. So close, yet so far.