I stood at the end of the table, rubbing my forehead where a headache was starting to form.
I'd just spent the last ten minutes explaining the entire mess. Visiting the White Sword Tower in the early morning, the misunderstanding about my sword, the brutal fist fight with Ser Gerold Hightower and his interrogation about my "intentions" toward his grand-niece. And, of course, the wedding planning that I'd had no part in initiating.
"So no," I said, letting my hand drop. "I am not in any way betrothed. It's truly just a big misunderstanding."
Silence hung in the room for a moment.
Then Oberyn leaned forward in his chair, his dark eyes bright with something like admiration. "You fought the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard?"
I couldn't help a small smirk. "Bare-knuckled."
"Remarkable, my friend," Oberyn said, laughing. "Truly remarkable."
Even Father gave me a subtle nod from where he stood beside Mother. Then I caught Mother elbowing him in the side, her expression pointed. "Indeed. It seems he must have forgotten to mention that small detail when he returned from King's Landing."
"Was that why you had a black eye when you arrived?" Alysanne asked, her blue eyes wide. "You said you'd been sparring!"
I nodded. "I wasn't lying. Just... not clarifying who I'd been sparring with."
Arianne was frowning at me, the way she always did when she thought I was hiding something. Which, to be fair, I usually was.
But it was Princess Elia's voice that cut through the room next. "The part I do not understand, Ser Galladon, is why the Lord Commander would even think you had something with this... Lady Malora."
I raised an eyebrow at her tone. There was something sharp beneath the polite words. Something that made the air feel slightly charged.
I tried to keep my composure. "I am not sure I understand that part either, Princess. Apparently, she mentioned me in her letters to him. And he must have misconstrued what that meant."
"Why would she even mention you at all?" Arianne asked, suspicious.
"Yes, Ser Galladon." Ashara Dayne's violet eyes were practically piercing me from across the table. "Why would she?"
Faced with hard looks on both sides, I did the only thing I could. "What can I say?" My smile was charm incarnate. "I met her only briefly, but it seems I have an effect on maidens."
At that, Oberyn bursts out in laughter. Father joined with a low chuckle, clearly amused despite himself. Even Mother smiled, shaking her head in that fond, exasperated way she had.
My sisters gave me the same look they always did when I joked with them, half annoyed, half amused, entirely unimpressed.
The Dornish ladies, on the other hand, were not so easily charmed.
Elia's dark eyes were shooting daggers at me. If looks could kill, I'd be bleeding out on the floor.
Ashara had her nose in the air, though I could have sworn I spotted some crimson creeping into her cheeks. "You certainly have a high enough opinion of yourself, ser."
"A jest, of course," I said, raising my hands in surrender. Time to backtrack before I dug myself deeper. "I met Lady Malora along with her brother, Ser Baelor, when I stopped at Oldtown after the tourney at Lannisport. I have exchanged letters with Ser Baelor a few times since. But that is all."
The fact that Malora had slipped me a priceless magical artifact in the strangest meeting of my life went unsaid, naturally.
Some things were better left unmentioned.
Ashara sniffed. "As you say."
But she didn't sound convinced. Not even a little.
She gave a certain look to Princess Elia—some kind of feminine communication that happened entirely without words. Whatever message passed between them, Elia rose from her seat.
Ashara joined her, standing with fluid grace.
"Excuse me, my lord, my lady," Elia said, her voice perfectly courteous. "The food was delicious. You have my thanks. But we must prepare ourselves for the day."
Mother was the picture of courtesy in return. "Of course. I will have my maids at the ready should you need anything at all. Do not hesitate to call on them."
Elia and Ashara smiled—polite, distant smiles that didn't quite reach their eyes—and swept out of the room.
The temperature seemed to drop about ten degrees with their departure.
Mother caught my eye, gave me a look that clearly said We will be discussing this later, then took my sisters by the hands. "Come, girls. We must ready ourselves as well."
Alysanne went willingly, already chattering about something. Arianne shot me one more skeptical look before following.
Father lingered just long enough to signal we should speak later, then he too was gone, leaving just Oberyn and me in the small dining room.
The silence stretched for a moment. Then Oberyn stood and came to my side, clapping a hand on my shoulder.
He gestured down the hallway where the ladies had just disappeared. "Don't worry about them. Ashara's just unused to competition."
"There's competition?" I blinked at him. "I'd love to know what the terms of the contest even are."
Oberyn gave me a look. "You expect clear rules from a lady? Oh, my friend. Come, I have much to teach you."
xxx
Instead of a brothel or some other house of disreput, as I would've expected, we headed to the practice yard instead.
The morning sun was climbing higher, warming the courtyard stones. A few guards trained at the far end, but they cleared out quickly when they saw us approaching with practice weapons.
I selected a sword and shield from the rack. The sword was blunted steel, heavier than a real blade to build strength. The shield was good oak, well-maintained. Oberyn took a practice spear, testing its weight with a few experimental spins. He moved with the same grace I'd seen the last time we fought.
"Ready?" he asked, settling into a warrior's stance.
In truth, I was tired. Two months of near-constant marching, living rough, sleeping on the ground. My muscles ached in ways I'd almost forgotten were possible. But at least we'd gotten a good night's sleep the night before instead of another of Jack's forced marches.
"Ready," I said.
We circled each other slowly. With the men-at-arms gone, the courtyard was quiet except for the distant sound of waves against rocks and the cry of seabirds overhead.
Oberyn moved like his namesake, a viper coiled and ready to strike. His spear held low, point tracking me as I moved.
Then he darted in.
Fast. So fast the spear was a blur. A lightning thrust aimed at my chest.
I brought my shield up, angling it to deflect rather than absorb. The spear point scraped off the rim with a metallic screech. He pulled back immediately, reset, thrust again. This time at my legs.
I sidestepped, let the point pass harmlessly by, and slapped at the haft with my sword. Wood cracked against wood.
Oberyn danced back out of range, grinning. "Not bad. You've kept your practice."
I only grunted, and we circled again. I kept my shield up, my sword ready.
Another thrust, feint high, real attack low. I caught it on my shield and pushed forward, trying to close the distance. But Oberyn was already gone, dancing back on light feet.
"So," he said conversationally, as if we weren't trying to hit each other. "Don't tell me you think they came all the way here for Tarth's natural beauty?"
I couldn't help but smile. "I much prefer the term handsome. But thank you for noticing."
Oberyn snorted and attacked again.
This time it was a combination. Thrust, withdraw, thrust from a different angle. I batted the first away with my sword, caught the second on my shield, and saw my opening.
I dashed in, trying to hammer him with my shield. Use my weight and strength to overwhelm his speed. But Oberyn stepped back again, using the haft of his spear to check my momentum. The wood caught against my shield edge, redirecting my charge harmlessly to the side.
"She's not the only one with competition, you know," Oberyn said, resetting his stance. "Ashara has plenty of admirers in my brother's court. Her father shall not wait long before he betroths her to one of them."
He continued his assault, controlling the rhythm of the fight with his longer reach. Thrust, withdraw, circle, thrust again. Keeping me at the end of his spear, not letting me get close.
I blocked and dodged, feeling out his patterns. Waiting for an opening.
Then Oberyn got cocky.
He over-extended slightly on a thrust, confident in his speed. And threw out the challenge with that insufferable smirk of his.
"Or perhaps it is that you do not have the stones to court her?"
I blocked two quick spear thrusts with my shield, raising an eyebrow. "Stones, huh? I'll show you some stones."
Oberyn's smirk widened. "Oh, I wouldn't mind that at all."
I could only shake my head at the man. Of course he wouldn't. He started to harry me again, probing with the spear point. But this time, I stopped holding back.
I was stronger than Oberyn, had always been stronger. But now I was faster too, more experienced. And I'd pushed myself like never before since my stop at Morne.
Exploding forward, I closed the distance before he could reset, getting inside his spear's reach where the length became a liability. Oberyn's eyes widened slightly. He tried to backpedal to create space like he usually did. I didn't let him.
My sword came in high. He brought the spear haft up to block. I used the moment of contact to slam my shield into the middle of the haft, using my weight and strength to drive it down and to the side.
He tried to disengage, to spin away. But I was already there.
I hooked his ankle with my foot as he moved. Not hard enough to trip him completely, but enough to throw off his balance for a crucial half-second.
My sword came back around. He blocked with the spear again, but he was off-balance, couldn't put his full strength into it. I pushed forward with my shield. Not to hit him, just to occupy his attention, to keep him defensive, while my sword snaked around the spear haft. I caught it, twisted, and yanked.
The spear flew from his hands.
Oberyn stumbled back, reaching for the dagger at his belt, the instinct of a fighter who always has a backup plan.
But then I was already lunging, slapping at his wrist with the flat of my sword and ramming the shield into his gut. The Prince folded around it like a neat, human-like envelope, gasping in pain, and I finished it off by being a good host and kicking him while he was down.
He fell on the ground with a groan, only to find the blunted point of my practice sword pressed against his chest, right over his heart. Oberyn only laid there looking almost shell-shocked for a moment.
I smiled, pulling the sword away. "See," I said. "Stones."
Wincing, he coughed and rubbed his stomach. "Huh," he said, voice a little wheezy. "Didn't expect that. You've gotten fast."
"I've been practicing," I said. Offering a hand, he took it, and I pulled him up. "A lot has happened since we last sparred."
Too much. Plus the fact I'd grown half a foot since then and picked up almost a stone in weight, most of it muscle. I wasn't the gangly teenager he'd first met in Sunspear. I was bigger, stronger, faster.
I certainly wasn't the same fighter as before.
Oberyn dusted himself off. "Yes, so it has." He moved to retrieve his spear. When he turned to look at me, his eyes had gained a rare, saddened cast."Losing your mother... I am glad your own story turned out for the better. It is not a pain I'd wish on anyone, much less a friend." He met my eyes. "Had I known it was happening, I would have sailed there myself."
I gave him a solemn nod. "Thank you, Oberyn. That means more than you know."
"And your latest adventure too." He leaned on his spear. "Even down in Sunspear we heard what you did with the burning lord. An honorable thing, yes, but dangerous. Have you considered not getting into so much trouble all the time?" His smile was fully back now.
I chuckled. "Aye, I should do that. What happened in the throne room…" I let out a sigh. "It was ill-thought out. Very much so. Even if I cannot say I regret it."
"You shouldn't. It made for a great story. Ashara spent the entire day raving about it," Oberyn said knowing look. "Calling you all types of fool."
"In her defense, I've been known to act like one."
"Perhaps. But a woman only does that when she cares about someone." Stepping closer, Oberyn laid a hand on my shoulder. "Dornish women are the best in the world, my friend. Trust me, I've tried them everywhere, so I'd know. Just think about it, eh?"
I nodded, and we left the courtyard after that, though not without Oberyn extracting a promise that we'd spar again soon. He wanted to even the score.
xxx
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