A Feast for Dragons

Prince Oberyn, mounted on a sand steed
and armored all in red, smiling. “When I finish, it is yours, to help you
remember him.”
    “I am not like to forget your father.”
    “That is good to know. Many have wondered.”
    “Lord Tywin has promised us the Mountain’s head.”
    “He is so kind . . . but a headsman’s sword is no fit
end for brave Ser Gregor. We have prayed so long for his death, it is only fair
that he pray for it as well. I know the poison that my father used, and there
is none slower or more agonizing. Soon we may hear the Mountain screaming, even
here in Sunspear.”
    Prince Doran sighed. “Obara cries to me for war. Nym will be
content with murder. And you?”
    “War,” said Tyene, “though not my sister’s war. Dornishmen fight
best at home, so I say let us hone our spears and wait. When the Lannisters and
the Tyrells come down on us, we shall bleed them in the passes and bury them
beneath the blowing sands, as we have a hundred times before.”
    “ If they should come down on us.”
    “Oh, but they must, or see the realm riven once more, as it
was before we wed the dragons. Father told me so. He said we had the Imp to
thank, for sending us Princess Myrcella. She is so pretty, don’t you think? I wish
that I had curls like hers. She was made to be a queen, just like her mother.”
Dimples bloomed in Tyene’s cheeks. “I would be honored to arrange the wedding,
and to see to the making of the crowns as well. Trystane and Myrcella are so
innocent, I thought perhaps white gold . . . with emeralds, to match Myrcella’s
eyes. Oh, diamonds and pearls would serve as well, so long as the children are
wed and crowned. Then we need only hail Myrcella as the First of Her Name,
Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, and lawful heir to the
Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, and wait for the lions to come.”
    “The lawful heir?” The prince snorted.
    “She is older than her brother,” explained Tyene, as if he
were some fool. “By law the Iron Throne should pass to her.”
    “By Dornish law.”
    “When good King Daeron wed Princess Myriah and brought us
into his kingdom, it was agreed that Dornish law would always rule in Dorne.
And Myrcella is in Dorne, as it happens.”
    “So she is.” His tone was grudging. “Let me think on it.”
    Tyene grew cross. “You think too much, Uncle.”
    “Do I?”
    “Father said so.”
    “Oberyn thought too little.”
    “Some men think because they are afraid to do. ”
    “There is a difference between fear and caution.”
    “Oh, I must pray that I never see you frightened, Uncle. You might forget to breathe.” She raised a hand . . .
    The captain brought the butt of his longaxe down upon the
marble with a thump. “My lady, you presume. Step from the dais, if it please
you.”
    “I meant no harm, Captain. I love my uncle, as I know he
loved my father.” Tyene went to one knee before the prince. “I have said all I
came to say, Uncle. Forgive me if I gave offense; my heart is broken all to
pieces. Do I still have your love?”
    “Always.”
    “Give me your blessing, then, and I shall go.”
    Doran hesitated half a heartbeat before placing his hand on
his niece’s head. “Be brave, child.”
    “Oh, how not? I am his daughter.”
    No sooner had she taken her leave than Maester Caleotte
hurried to the dais. “My prince, she did not . . . here, let me see your hand.”
He examined the palm first, then gently turned it upside down to sniff at the
back of the prince’s fingers. “No, good. That is good. There are no scratches,
so . . .”
    The prince withdrew his hand. “Maester, could I trouble you
for some milk of the poppy? A thimble cup will suffice.”
    “The poppy. Yes, to be sure.”
    “Now, I think,” Doran Martell urged gently, and Caleotte
scurried to the stairs.
    Outside the sun had set. The light within the dome was the
blue of dusk, and all the diamonds on the floor were dying. The prince sat in
his high seat beneath the Martell spear, his face pale with pain. After a long
silence he turned to Areo Hotah. “Captain,” he said, “how loyal are my guards?”
    “Loyal.” The captain did not know what else to say.
    “All of them? Or some?”
    “They are good men. Good Dornishmen. They will do as
I command.” He thumped his longaxe on the floor. “I will bring the head of any
man who would betray you.”
    “I want no heads. I want obedience.”
    “You have it.” Serve. Obey. Protect. Simple vows for