Chapter Text
Arianne Martell
She watched as the returning Prince was embraced by his family. The King was the first to hug his son, descending from the steps of the Iron Throne to do so. Next was Rhaenys who hugged her half-brother tightly. Arianne stared at her cousin, watching as Rhaenys pulled back to kiss her sibling’s cheek.
“She plays the role of a welcoming sister well. Too well,” Obara said through clenched teeth. Her cousin’s skin was milk pale and her hair was as thin as parchment. She looked half a corpse; remarkably different from the muscular woman that had arrived at King’s Landing. A stark reminder of what this Prince had cost them.
“Better for him to believe his big sister is happy that he is safe and well. The hidden knife always cuts the deepest,” Tyene muttered. Clad in a blue and white dress, embroidered with the stars of the Seven, Tyene was the picture of innocence. Save for her eyes. They were the eyes that only a daughter of the Red Viper could possess.
“And how do we know that she is not playing us for a fool, rather than him?” Obara questioned under her breath. Arianne and Tyene shared a look. Rhaenys had issued a rather strong warning when Arianne brought up the issue of how powerful her half-brother had become. Even Obara’s maiming by her half-brother’s wolf had done little to open Rhaenys’ eyes to the sheer danger he presented. The burning of Volantis however, seemed to have shaken her resolve. Nymeria had returned to Old Volantis to visit her mother’s family. This Prince Jaehaerys had set the ancient city to fire. Dorne was nearest to the Free Cities and information from Essos flowed a measure more freely to Sunspear than the rest of Westeros. Sailors reported a slaughter that the Old Blood had not seen since the Rhoynish Princes broke their armies and sacked their cities along the Rhoyne. Worse yet, Nymeria had yet to return to Dorne.
Arianne squeezed Obara’s remaining hand. “Rhaenys is a daughter of Dorne as much as us. She won’t lose sight of what’s important.” In a perfect world, Aegon would ascend to the throne with Rhaenys at his side. Her cousins would ensure Dorne would never again be used and humiliated as their Grandfather and Father had done. This world is far from perfect. She thought of Nym’s face, her cousin’s beautiful smile, burnt and deformed. The Princess of Dorne squeezed Obara’s hand tighter. “Dorne will have justice even if this King seeks to deny us.”
As if in response the dragon moved. Shifting its bulk and drawing a string of nervous chuckles and whispers lined with excitement. The sounds of its claws dragging against the marble floor sounded akin to steel against stone. It was a beautiful creature; silver-gold scales that gleamed like jewels, with great cerulean-blue wing membranes and spines. But the beauty came accompanied with immediately apparent danger. Black horns rose from its wide head like a permanent crown and its tail was dagger tipped, sharp enough to impale a man. One horn was cracked and the beast bore hundreds of scars from some great battles. What could wound such a creature? Arianne wondered.
A winged demon. Arianne decided. Powerful as well. The perfect weapon.
The dragon rested amongst the swords of the Iron Throne and its great bulk curled around the colossal throne of swords. Long, lean, and muscular. Only the whales she had spotted off the coast of Dorne, came close to rivaling the size of the beast. If the skull of Balerion was not present before her, Arianne would have doubted the dragon could grow any larger. This monster will only grow. She could not deny the fear that stirred in her belly.
Its eyes were transfixed upon the royal family. The crowd of lords watched with bated breath as Jaehaerys reached up to stroke the dragon’s massive snout. With his son’s encouragement, the King did the same.
“I thought he would be taller,” Obara muttered.
“He’s not short,” Arianne countered. An inch or two under six feet, she guessed. Jaehaerys was far taller than her though inches shorter than his father and brother.
“Not as tall as his brother.” Obara persisted. Her eyes were hard and her grip around Arianne’s hand tightened enough that Arianne winced.
“Obara.” Arianne reminded the woman of her strength with a pointed glare at their intertwined hands. Her cousin’s grip relaxed. She’s angry. Arianne realized. Livid. A whisper to calm herself was on Arianne’s lips, yet it was the strongest she had seen her cousin in weeks. Losing her arm has not robbed her of her spirit.
Tyene spared a smile at her sister. “Challenging him now would be foolish. Look at the King; he’s ready to excuse all of his son’s crimes.”
Obara nodded her head. “When has Dorne known justice in the dragon’s court? Even Aunt Elia was used and discarded as soon as she was of no further use to the King. I am but a bastard. There is no justice to be found for a bastard of Dorne.”
“If there is no justice to be found then we must forge our own.” Tyene supplied. As they spoke, Jaehaerys lifted one of Prince Viserys’ daughters into his arms. He whispered into the little girl’s ear, calming her nerves, before introducing her to the curious dragon. Sounds of amusem*nt came from the crowd as the little girl stroked the dragon’s snout. Not to be outdone by her sister, her twin was quick to tug on Jaehaerys’ pants leg, escaping her father’s grasp to do so.
The dragon tilted its large head down to stare at the small child. Such a centered gaze would have stilled the heart of many men but rather than fear the little girl planted her feet and smacked the dragon in the middle of its nose while shouting “No!” as it drew too close.
Jaehaerys laughed as his dragon snapped its head back in surprise. He scooped his niece in his other arm, holding both girls in either arm and winning the hearts of nearly every woman, maiden or otherwise, in the room.
“Aerea the Bold,” Jaehaerys exclaimed drawing a round of laughter from the throne room. He kissed the cheeks of both nieces. One twin blushed shyly while the bold one tugged on her uncle’s hair for another.
He is handsome. Arianne had to admit. Though that was hardly surprising. The innate beauty of the Blood of Old Valyria was distinctly apparent in the Prince despite his northern coloring. Not as visually stunning as his father nor as handsome as Aegon though it may have been the darker hair color for the brothers bore more than a passing resemblance. Lean, and dark, and handsome. His dragon was more than a danger. It would be best if she constantly reminded herself of the danger this man was to her family. Of the harm he had already caused. She was not a young girl to be distracted by a curious attraction.
“We must be careful,” Arianne reminded her cousins. “The King is no fool and he knows your father’s reputation. That scrutiny would certainly extend to you two. Our pursuit of justice must be subtle so as to not bring any undo wrath upon Dorne.”
Obara’s jaw shifted. Clearly displeased. Arianne knew then that she would need to be the voice of caution. Her cousins were formidable and not to be underestimated but they were now in the dragon’s den. A single misstep could lead to a fate ending in fire and blood.
I sound like my father. Arianne realized with a start. As a younger girl, she might have balked at such a realization. Most looked at Prince Doran and found him lacking. Pudgy, shapeless, and crippled with gout that swelled his joints into grotesqueries, her father was not the type of man to inspire confidence. At least not at first glance. In comparison to his illustrious and dangerous brother most found him lacking. Yet Arianne knew that the Red Viper could not operate without Prince Doran. He was the tall grass in which the viper remained hidden until ready to strike.
How well can my two vipers strike? With one missing a set of fangs. Obara’s spear had been her greatest skill. Arianne would not call the other woman useless, but she was certainly much less effective. On the other hand, Tyene’s skill with poisons was unmatched this far north of the Red Mountains but it was no simple matter to dose a member of the royal family. There would be guards, food tasters, the Kingsguard, an army of retainers and servants, his family and perhaps even this dragon. Tyene was as dangerous with poisons as the man who taught her but even she could not operate alone.
Arianne stared at the Dragonlord. If it were not for his dark locks, he would be a living picture of a Dragonlord of Old Valyria. He made a formidable figure; armored in dark scale that shimmered crimson and gold with every stray ray of sunlight along with a dragonbone hilted sword at his waist. She knew Aegon was already a talented warrior, how did his little brother measure in comparison?
“We have to play this smart,” Arianne reminded. Her lips were hidden by an ornate handheld fan, the sail bearing the colors of her house. The eyes of the court were fixated on Jaehaerys and his dragon but caution when discussing treason was always of the utmost importance.
Annoyance flashed in Tyene’s blue eyes. “He has a dragon under his command. The need for caution is obvious.” A dark smile then touched her lips. “Besides he will be far too distracted by the handsome Dornish bastard f*cking his childhood love.” Obara chuckled.
Arianne gave her cousin a sharp look. Tyene merely smiled demurely. She flicked her fan. Beads of sweat gathered at their brows, a glance around the throne room confirmed the rest shared their discomfort. Even this far north of the Red Mountains, the heat of summer was considerable. The temperature in the throne room had risen considerably with the dragon’s presence.
“I should have never told you,” Arianne whispered harshly. Daemon’s appointment to Princess Daenerys’ personal guard needed to be seen as an entirely professional decision. It was certainly a partial truth. Daemon had been trained by and squired for Oberyn Martell himself. He was knighted for bravery by her father and was widely regarded as one of Dorne’s finest swordsman. There were few men better suited to guard a princess and Daemon’s devotion to Princess Daenerys would ensure that he would do all that was necessary to protect her. However, if the full nature of their relationship ever became known to the King, Arianne feared Daemon’s fate.
King Rhaegar for all his faults was neither blind nor a fool. He would not take too kindly to a bastard having his way with his sister. Daenerys committing adultery made Daemon complicit in treason if the King sought to force the issue. A crime punishable by death or castration or if there was a degree of leniency then exile to the Wall was the best fate Daemon could hope for. Daemon is far too good of a man for either of those fates. She hoped his love for Daenerys would not poison his fate.
“Daemon is better suited to handle the bastard Prince than Quentyn,” Obara muttered. None of the Sand Snakes, save for perhaps Sarella held Quentyn in high regard. Obara especially.
Arianne scrunched her nose in protest. “Daemon may wield a sword and spear better than Quentyn, but he is still a bastard.” A noble bastard but a bastard all the same. The Targaryens could execute or exile a bastard with little repercussion. A Prince of Dorne had a great deal more protection against such injustices. More concerning was Daemon’s attitude. He was not the type of man to shy away from a challenge. Especially a challenge for Princess Daenerys’ hand, no matter the danger. Her brother at least would have the sense not to antagonize the Dragonlord.
“I doubt that one could match Daemon’s skill. Having a dragon does not make you a better warrior.” Obara’s eyes did not leave Jaehaerys. If only Obara’s pointed gaze was a weapon itself. Jaehaerys and his dragon would be of no match. Arianne followed her cousin’s gaze. The Prince had formed a line to introduce his family to his dragon. After the twins came their father and younger sister.
She felt a twist in her chest. The memory of Viserys’ refusal came fresh to her mind. Long had she prayed that his ship would sink on his journey to Volantis. Now the man had a beautiful family.
After Viserys came the Dowager Queen and then the Dragonlord’s mother. Finally, Princess Daenerys approached to greet the dragon. Jaehaerys tugged on her wrist, pulling her back flush against his chest. The Princess noticeably stiffened yet he did not release her. Instead, he lifted her wrist, so she could stroke the inquisitive dragon’s snout. After a time, a small smile touched her lips. It grew wider when he whispered in her ear.
Arianne chanced at glance at Ser Daemon. He stood adjacent to the royal family amongst the Red Guard. His expression remained composed, but his eyes were fixated on the pair. The Princess of Dorne could remember when she was responsible for Daemon’s jealousy. In Dorne, the other boys and even men feared him more than they desired her. For the short time they were together, she was only his. Now… A Dragonlord will not be quelled with just a look.
Jaehaerys did not release his aunt when she was finished greeting the dragon. Instead, he hooked her arm in his, holding her close. His sister came to his other side, hooking his other arm and standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. The smile on her face was bright. Flanked by the silver-haired princesses, the Dragonlord led his dragon from the room. The ground shook with every step of the dragon’s massive feet. The drop in heat as the dragon exited the throne room was considerable.
A score of the elite guards followed him along with the massive Kingsguard, The White Giant. The rest of the royal family remained to host the excited court.
Rhaenys sauntered over to them as the nobles were set to mingle. More entered the throne room from adjacent entrances. The dragon’s departure cleared considerable space.
A striking figure made in black and gold, her cousin looked as if she was born to be the Lady of Storm’s End. Certainly, with the handsome Renly Baratheon on her arm.
She has perfected her smile. Arianne noted. In contrast, Aegon had done nothing to hide his displeasure in marrying Margaery Tyrell rather than his sister. The Crown Prince had chosen not to wait for his brother’s return and left for Summerhall the morning following the joint wedding. Arianne wondered just how much of Rhaenys’ cheer was genuine and how much of it was an act in an effort to convince herself.
“Tyene,” Rhaenys greeted, pulling the smaller girl into a hug. She greeted Arianne next but a cold look from Obara still Rhaenys. The two had never been exceptionally close but now they were nearly at odds. Renly, perhaps oblivious to the tension between his wife and cousin, greeted them warmly. The Lord of Storm’s End displayed excellent decorum by refraining from staring or commenting on Obara’s stump.
While her husband entertained their cousins Rhaenys pulled Arianne aside. Behind a pillar, they were free to whisper without concealing their lips.
“I need you to keep them calm, Ari,” Rhaenys began. The statuesque beauty towered over Arianne. Rhaenys laid a hand on Arianne’s shoulder and her voice was soft.
“You needn’t worry about our family, Rhae.”
The Princess shook her head. “But I do. I know them, and I know you. Obara is focused and relentless. Tyene, devious and disarming. You can be the voice of calm. You and I damn well know that Obara will not be satisfied until she has Ghost’s pelt around her shoulders and even then… The honest truth is that will never happen. You have heard my father; no blame has been placed on Ghost. Nor will there be. His littermates are with him now as well. Anyone who tries hunting the wolf will need to watch for two more direwolves. Worse yet, answer to my brother. That is not a situation you want to find yourself in Ari.”
Arianne kept her voice even. She met her cousin’s eyes. “And what do you expect us to do, sweet cousin?”
Those indigo eyes narrowed. Rhaenys’ Valyrian eye color made her all the more exotic, but also even more fearsome when her ire was roused. “Do not play coy with me, Arianne. Obara wants blood but if she keeps on this course all she will spill is her own. I am trying to protect the three of you.”
Arianne knew this moment of conversation was critical. It was plain to see that at her core Rhaenys did not wish for conflict between her two sides of her family. Perhaps she would do all she could to advert it but her unwillingness to condemn them or fully excuse her brother’s actions revealed her doubt. The Princess of Dorne chose her words carefully. “I can promise you this, so as long as you can promise that your brother will do nothing to further harm Dorne then I can promise we will take no action. “
Rhaenys’ jaw shifted. Arianne watched her closely. In her sweetest voice, she continued, “Are you sure your brother can control himself? After all, this is a man who burned a city, whose direwolf maimed Obara, who may have killed Nymeria. Anyone else would need to answer for those consequences yet your brother walks free and without a care in the world. Perhaps he’s accustomed to not facing any?” She arched a brow. “What do you say to that?”
Before Rhaenys could reply, applause sounded throughout the cavernous room. Jaehaerys Targaryen made his reappearance in the Throne Room sans his dragon and a Princess. At his side was his pretty little sister. Nearly unseen Daenerys slipped behind the column of marble pillars. Ser Daemon was quick to break rank with the Red Guards to follow her.
Intrigued, Arianne turned to Rhaenys. “You should introduce us to your brother. I think it is time I formed my own opinion about the Dragonlord at the very least.”
Rhaenys’ lips pursed but Arianne provided her most disarming smile. “Dornish decorum is unmatched. Your brother shall receive my best.” Their cousins were quick to join them, along with Lord Renly.
Had Arianne made the approach herself, she would have had to shoulder her way through a throng of curious and excited nobles. Lords and their wives, sons, and daughters lined up to meet the Prince. They parted for Rhaenys and Renly like water beneath a sharp bowed ship. Arianne took in the sight of Jaehaerys. He did not look enthused by the attention. Nor did his sister. She noted their held hands. Does he intend to f*ck this one too? With a family such as this, such a notion would hardly be surprising.
“Hello little ones,” Rhaenys said playfully. Her words drew a reactionary scowl from Jaehaerys and a wide smile from their little sister.
“Rhaenys,” Jaehaerys greeted plainly. He eyed the man next to her. Rather than cower under the Prince’s scrutiny, Renly stepped forward to clasp the Prince’s arm.
“We are brother’s now.” Renly’s smile was wide and friendly. His eyes were a deep blue, a pleasant contrast to his coal-black hair and bright green tunic trimmed with gold. “Anything I should know?”
Jaehaerys looked to Rhaenys for a long moment. “My sister is very dear to me. I expect her to be treated well.” The look he gave Renly carried an implicit threat.
The taller lord did not miss a beat. “Of course.”
Jaehaerys gave Rhaenys a small smile. “Though I am sure she will be a handful herself, so I am torn whether to threaten you or warn you of what is to come.”
Rhaenys hit his arm in mock outrage. “Someone has not changed.” She turned to Arianne, Tyene, and Obara. “These are my cousins.” One by one she pointed. “Princess Arianne Martell, Tyene Sand, and Obara Sand.”
Jaehaerys’ eyes flickered over Arianne’s figure while he greeted her. Subtle but unmistakable was his wandering gaze. The sultry look she gave him was almost instinctual. Rhaenys stared carefully at Tyene while she greeted the prince. She’s looking for poison. Arianne realized.
The Prince paused when he laid eyes on Obara. Dressed in dark trousers and a light tunic with the sleeve of her absent right arm folded and pinned, Obara’s identity was unmistakable. There was a collective pause as the two eyed each other. The Prince’s face was an undiscernible mask. His eyes two chips of dark ice.
“Your wolf did this to me,” Obara supplied.
Princess Visenya’s eyes narrowed. She spoke before her brother could. “Ghost was fleeing, you tried to stop him.”
Her accusation set Obara to anger. “After the wolf went on a rampage that killed children. It needed to be put down. As I am told, it nearly killed you.”
“Needed? Or were you chasing some sort of glory?” The Princess questioned sharply.
“Enough.” Jaehaerys cut through the argument with a single word. A gentle tug on his sister’s arm and she was flush against his side and quelled into silence.
“What happened to you was more than regrettable. It should have never happened.”
“But it did,” Obara interrupted. “Pretty words will not erase the bloodshed. They certainly will not bring my arm back.”
“No, they will not.” The Prince said evenly. “Perhaps it is a minor concession or nothing at all but the creatures responsible for your arm have been dealt with. They did not die pleasantly. That I can assure you.” Tallest of her sisters, Obara was at height with the Prince. She matched his unflinching gaze with one of her own.
“I know of only one beast responsible and he is alive and well somewhere in the Kingswood. I know of my sister in Volantis that was there when you set the city afire. I know not of justice. Or even recompense.” Obara gave him a bitter look paired with a nod and then turned sharply on her heel.
Arianne nodded for Tyene to follow. At least her blonde-haired cousin was more tactful in her retreat and bid the Prince a polite curtesy before departing.
She gave the Prince her best apologetic look. “Forgive my cousin. Her emotions are running high. She means no offense.”
The Prince shook his head. “I think she did, but none will be taken.” He looped an arm around his sister’s waist. The two shared a meaningful glance and then the Princess apologized.
“Forgive me, but Ghost is a member of our family. He was not in control of his actions and should not be punished for them.”
Arianne nodded evenly, hiding her displeasure. That wolf nearly f*cking ate you. She could distinctly remember the sight of the Princess covered in blood. Has she forgotten? “Family is the most important thing we have in this world. We are in agreement.”
The Princess eyed Arianne, disdain clear in her grey eyes. Jaehaerys noticed and squeezed his sister’s hip. She looked up at him with a sheepish smile on her face. The short exchange confirmed Arianne’s earlier thought. They are f*cking. Or soon will be.
“I apologized for missing your wedding,” Jaehaerys said to the newly married couple.
Renly clasped the Prince’s shoulder. “A dragon arriving might have overshadowed the brides. Especially with a man such as you on its back.” The Lord of Storm’s End grinned.
“Hardly,” Visenya replied. “I am sure you were exquisite, Rhaenys. I wish I could have seen your dress.”
Rhaenys smirked. “Oh, I was exquisite little-sister. Our brother is now in my debt for keeping you away.”
Jaehaerys co*cked a brow. “Oh? And just what is my debt?”
“I’ll settle for a ride or two on Syraxes for now, but I really want one of my own.” Rhaenys wiggled her brows playfully. When the Targaryens shared a laugh, those listening in to their conversation laughed as well. Three Targaryens, even two reserved one was a difficult sight to turn away from.
“Are you just giving away dragons now, cousin?” An auburn-haired man questioned on his approach. The grey direwolf on his blue doublet revealed to everyone that he was a Stark. “If so, I want one.”
The silver-haired beauty on his arm laughed. Not a Targaryen. Must be a Velaryon. “And what would you do with it, Stark? I’d be more likely to ride one than you.”
“You’re a distant cousin at best, Elaena.” Princess Visenya corrected. Her eyes were sharp. “The dragons are for immediate family only.”
Surprised by the sudden edge to the Princess’ sudden ire, Elaena Velaryon stuttered. “I-I meant no offense.”
“Senya did not either,” Rhaenys assured. The silver-haired Princess offered no apology herself.
“Senya does have a point. We have a finite number of eggs and even if they all hatch, it is no simple thing to claim a dragon. The dragon chooses you more so than you choosing the dragon. So Rhaenys I am in no position to guarantee you a dragon. You’ll have to claim one yourself.” Jaehaerys corrected.
Rhaenys shrugged. Her confidence was unaffected. “I’ll settle for the dragon ride then. Hatch the eggs and I will claim a dragon myself. That will be enough.”
While the press of the nobility eagerly awaited the attention of the Prince, the arrival of the rest of his extended family swept away further access to the Prince. Arianne remained in his bubble of influence by the courtesy of Rhaenys. Jaehaerys was greeted by Lord Stark and his two daughters. The close relationship he shared with his mother’s family was immediately apparent. Jaehaerys embraced his uncle and cousins.
“From Old Valyria and back again.” Lord Stark clasped his nephew’s shoulder. His daughters greeted the Prince and Princess Visenya as siblings. The dark-haired one leapt to hug Jaehaerys while the taller auburn-haired daughter seemed awestruck by the two Princesses.
Jaehaerys seemed to unwind in the presence of his Northern family. He joked with his uncle and cousin, at ease until Arianne’s brother approached.
“Prince Jaehaerys, it is good to see you alive and well,” Quentyn began. He halted before the Prince, arm outstretched in greeting. He was dressed well. A golden tunic, silk pants stripped with red and bright clothed shoes. His hair was slicked back, and her brother stood straight and proud. Time spent with her uncle had done Quentyn well. The boy he was before might have cowed before the Prince’s shrewd gaze. Now, rather Quentyn met the grey eyes of the Prince without hesitation. “Many of us thought we might never hear of you again when you left for Essos.”
“Sorry to disappoint.” The Prince’s voice was cold. “I was disappointed as well. Rhaenys’ wedding was not the only wedding I missed while I was away. Your wedding with my aunt came a few months too soon.”
Quentyn’s face twitched. The Dragon Prince hardly hid his displeasure. “My father’s health has been poor for a long while. He wanted to see us wed in the event that he would pass too soon. Thankfully he is still with us.”
“Thankfully,” Jaehaerys said without enthusiasm. The Prince took a step closer to Quentyn, increasing the tension of the conversation.
Lord Stark watched the two warily. “Jon-”
Jon…Prince Jaehaerys waved his uncle away. “I am just regarding the man who married my aunt.” To her brother’s credit, he did not squirm under the Prince’s intense gaze. “While I was a thousand miles away in Essos,” The Prince added as an afterthought. He smiled but it was anything but humorous.
“Unfortunate timing,” Arianne said, drawing the Dragon Prince’s attention away from her brother. If only for a moment. Arianne stepped forward and hugged her brother’s shoulders. “I am sure you would have loved to see the joining of our families.”
“Loved is not a word I would use.” He turned his dark gaze back upon Quentyn. “Have you ever heard of the legend of Icaraes, Quentyn?”
“Prince Quentyn,” Arianne corrected with a smile.
Jaehaerys’ eyes narrowed momentarily but it was Visenya who spoke. “We cannot forget their all-important titles, brother. They stood against the might of dragons to keep them.”
“As well as for other things. For autonomy and freedom,” Arianne supplied. Her dislike of this little girl grew with every word she spoke.
“And look at you now.” For a moment Visenya shared her brother’s stern gaze. The effect was lessened coming from the slim girl. Arianne refused to be intimidated by a freshly flowered child.
“I have heard of Icaeres. The man who flew too close to the sun.”
Jaehaerys’ smile was almost sinister. “The Old Blood of Volantis have a different version of the myth. Icaeres was the son of a prodigious inventor. His father produced many wonders but none grander than a set of wings that allowed a man to soar. Each day, Icaraes would climb the tallest cliff and leap from its edge. He would do what no man before him had done, yet he wasn’t satisfied. As inventive as Icaraes’ father was, the wings could not compare to those of birds. Icaeres could fly no higher than cliff he leaped from. Envious of the birds who flew above, mocking him with their ability, Icaeres sought a solution. He did not merely want to fly amongst the birds, he wanted to soar above them. There is only one creature with such ability.”
“A dragon,” Arianne voiced.
Jaehaerys nodded. “Icaeres thought he could master such a beast. So, with a braided steel whip, he set out to bend a dragon under his will. The first dragon he came upon melted the flesh from his bones.”
“I think I prefer the first version of the tale,” Quentyn said politely.
“They are not so different. Both iterations of Icaeres were led to their doom blindly pursuing their aspirations. There is a lesson to be learned there.”
Quentyn’s eyes narrowed. “To measure one’s aspirations?”
“That is one lesson. The other, more important lesson is simpler. To master a dragon is akin to flying too close to the sun. The risk of burning is frighteningly high.”
Quentyn’s frustrations grew plain but Arianne squeezed his hand before he could do or say something foolish. Jaehaerys had already turned away to converse with his sisters. Archibald Yronwood and Gerris Drinkwater were quick to rescue her floundering brother before any further awkwardness.
Arianne paid little mind to Gerris’ attempts to engage her. Normally, she would find some sort of entertainment in flirting with the handsome knight but now she was not in the mood. The Prince was the focus of her thoughts. He all but threatened Quentyn with all the court watching. How could a man be so bold? And he will only grow bolder.
