A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

tell you. First you must wash, and eat.”
    She must look a wretched creature. Arianne crawled from the bed, weak as a kitten. “Have Morra and Mellei prepare a bath,” she told him, “and tell Timoth to bring me up some food. Nothing heavy. Some cold broth and a bit of bread and fruit.”
    â€œAye,” said Hotah. Never had she heard a sweeter sound.
    The captain waited without whilst the princess bathed and brushed her hair and ate sparingly of the cheese and fruit they’d brought her. She drank a little wine to settle her stomach.
I am frightened,
she realized,
for the first time in my life, I am frightened of my father.
That made her laugh until the wine came out her nose. When it was time to dress, she chose a simple gown of ivory linen, with vines and purple grapes embroidered around the sleeves and bodice. She wore no jewels.
I must be chaste and humble and contrite. I must throw myself at his feet and beg forgiveness, or I may never hear another human voice again.
    By the time she was ready, dusk had fallen. Arianne had thought that Hotah would escort her to the Tower of the Sun to hear her father’s judgment. Instead he delivered her to the prince’s solar, where they found Doran Martell seated behind a
cyvasse
table, his gouty legs supported by a cushioned footstool. He was toying with an onyx elephant, turning it in his reddened, swollen hands. The prince looked worse than she had ever seen him. His face was pale and puffy, his joints so inflamed that it hurt her just to look at them. Seeing him this way made Arianne’s heart go out to him . . . yet somehow she could not bring herself to kneel and beg, as she had planned. “Father,” she said instead.
    When he raised his head to look at her, his dark eyes were clouded with pain.
Is that the gout?
Arianne wondered.
Or is it me?
“A strange and subtle folk, the Volantenes,” he muttered, as he put the elephant aside. “I saw Volantis once, on my way to Norvos, where I first met Mellario. The bells were ringing, and the bears danced down the steps. Areo will recall the day.”
    â€œI remember,” echoed Areo Hotah in his deep voice. “The bears danced and the bells rang, and the prince wore red and gold and orange. My lady asked me who it was who shone so bright.”
    Prince Doran smiled wanly. “Leave us, captain.”
    Hotah stamped the butt of his longaxe on the floor, turned on his heel, and took his leave.
    â€œI told them to place a
cyvasse
table in your chambers,” her father said when the two of them were alone.
    â€œWho was I supposed to play with?”
Why is he talking about a game? Has the gout robbed him of his wits?
    â€œYourself. Sometimes it is best to study a game before you attempt to play it. How well do you know the game, Arianne?”
    â€œWell enough to play.”
    â€œBut not to win. My brother loved the fight for its own sake, but I only play such games as I can win.
Cyvasse
is not for me.” He studied her face for a long moment before he said, “Why? Tell me that, Arianne. Tell me why.”
    â€œFor the honor of our House.” Her father’s voice made her angry. He sounded so sad, so exhausted, so
weak. You are a prince!
she wanted to shout.
You should be raging!
“Your meekness shames all Dorne, Father. Your brother went to King’s Landing in your place, and
they killed him
!”
    â€œDo you think I do not know that? Oberyn is with me every time I close my eyes.”
    â€œTelling you to open them, no doubt.” She seated herself across the
cyvasse
table from her father.
    â€œI did not give you leave to sit.”
    â€œThen call Hotah back and whip me for my insolence. You are the Prince of Dorne. You can do that.” She touched one of the
cyvasse
pieces, the heavy horse. “Have you caught Ser Gerold?”
    He shook his head. “Would that we had. You were a fool to make him part of this. Darkstar is the most dangerous man in Dorne. You and he have done us all great harm.”
    Arianne was almost afraid to ask. “Myrcella. Is she . . . ?”
    â€œ. . . dead? No, though Darkstar did his best. All eyes were on your white knight so no one seems quite certain just what happened, but it would appear that her horse shied away from his at the last instant, else he would have taken off the top of the girl’s skull. As it is, the slash opened her cheek down to the bone and sliced off her