Ser Harrold draws his blade when Uncle comes near, pointing the tip into his breastplate. The other Kingsguard knights draw theirs, too. Uncle Daemon stops, staring down at where the steel meets his own body. He gazes up to Papa behind you.
Holding out the hammer, he says, "Add it to the chair." 
It makes a loud clattering sound when it falls heavy upon the stone floor. You want to hold your hands to your ears, but it'd do naught but earn you a scolding from Septa later. As he steps back, you notice that 'Nyra has moved further up in the crowd. She is fighting not to smile as she stares at him.
Ser Harrold sheathes his sword and picks up the hammer, moving back to where he was previously.
"You wear a crown." Papa looks very grand in his robes, his own crown making Uncle Daemon's look silly indeed. "Do you also call yourself 'king'?"
"Once we smashed the Triarchy, they named me 'King of the Narrow Sea'." Uncle's smile is what Septa would call arrogant as his words set off gasps in the crowd. You do not think she likes him very much. "But I know there is only one true king, Your Grace."
He kneels. The other Kingsguards' blades follow him down. "My crown and the Stepstones," he says, taking off his crown, "are yours."
Papa looks to the door. "Where is Lord Corlys?"
"He sailed home to Driftmark."
"Who holds the Stepstones?"
"The tides... the crabs, and two thousand dead Triarchy corsairs, staked to the sand to warn those who might follow."
You shiver. How awful. What a frightfully monstrous thing to do to another person, and he did it to two whole thousand of them. Septa says that noble knights treat their enemies with respect—you are not sure if Uncle Daemon would count as a noble knight, then.
Papa walks down the stairs to the Iron Throne, using Blackfyre as a sort of cane. It clacks against the ground as it hits each step.  He stills right before Uncle, accepting the crown and passing it to a nearby member of the Kingsguard. 
"Rise," he says.
For a moment, you are not sure what he means to do. He'd looked unhappy. Perhaps he is going to hit Uncle. Maybe he'll have him thrown in the cells.
But, after Uncle stands, Papa's hand comes to rest on his arm, and then up further to his shoulder. Uncle moves forward, his head falling onto Papa's shoulder in a hug. The lords and ladies in the room applaud. 
You follow along, though you are sure the sound of your own claps are very quiet compared to all the others. Truthfully, you don't know if you are as happy as everyone else seems to be.



Septa Marlow does not let you stay back to speak to 'Nyra. Instead, you are made to go back to your chambers and find an appropriate dress for the feast Papa has announced is to happen in an hour's time in the godswood. All the while you are being dressed by your maids, you can hear her muttering about how unseemly it is that a party is to be held in such a godsless place. You tell her in your mind that the godswood is not godsless, but rather is for gods that she doesn't believe in. Saying such a thing aloud will only earn you a strike to the palm with her willow switch, though. You've only ever been struck once for asking Alicent why she named your youngest brother Aemond when it is almost the same as Daemon, and so she ought to have named him that instead. It is not a lesson you want to repeat.
By the time Septa allows you to go down to the godswood—thankfully, you get to go without her, because she refuses to 'step foot in that blasphemous space'—the nobles are wandering around, laughing and drinking as they celebrate the return of the king's brother. You spy platters of lemon cakes, pastries, cheeses and breads undercover and to the right. Papa, Alicent and Uncle Daemon stand closer to the heart tree, appearing merry in their conversation.