HEIR OF THE DRAGON

CHAPTER 7

"This is intolerable. Where is our escort?"

Roseanne might have blamed Ser Cha Eunwoo's impatience on the heat, clad as he was in the heavy white armor of a Kingsguard knight, but Lalisa's sworn protector had been in a sour mood the whole way from Dragonstone. Still, the weather was an issue. Though it was only late spring, the sun in Dorn already felt as intense as King's Landing at the height of summer. During their voyage south, the sea breeze had helped but now Roseanne could feel sweat gathering on her forehead, her pale skin flushing uncomfortably.

In that regard, she envied her wife. Though the blood of the dragon could still burn, it was said they didn't feel heat the same way as ordinary men and Lalisa proved the truth of that claim. Her dress was the deep black of her house, yet she seemed singularly untroubled by the sun beating down on her.

Instead, she was turning to and fro, a smile on her face as she took in the sights of Sunspear's docks. Though not as busy as those in King's Landing, there were still travelers from all across Westeros and beyond here, embarking, disembarking, and hawking their wares. The flamboyant clothes favored in Bravos, the dyed, forked beards of the Tyroshi, and a dozen other sights were on display, providing a diversion while they waited.

"Relax," Lalisa told Ser Eunwoo. "I'm sure they'll be here soon."

"You should heed the princess," Maester Tylin agreed. The balding older man had been sent along by her father to provide council on their mission and given his penchant for supplying plodding answers to almost any question, Roseanne suspected he was meant to blunt Lalisa's impetuousness. "The Dornish do have a reputation for lethargy, but this is perhaps unfair. In such a climate, it's wise to avoid undue exertions whenever possible. Archmaester Herwaith postulated that..."

Eunwoo cut him off with an annoyed grumble. "This is the heir to the Iron Throne we're speaking of. To keep her waiting like some supplicant is a deliberate insult."

Just then, there was a commotion near the far edge of the dock and Roseanne looked over to see the small crowd of sailors and merchants part for a company of spear-carrying palace guards wearing the orange and red of House Martell. Behind them came their hosts, headed by the Prince of Dorne. Qoren Martell was a few years older than Roseanne, with dark hair and eyes, and though not especially tall, the beta carried himself with a confidence that made him stand out.

As did his clothes. Richly embroidered in the colors of his house, they were certainly expensive enough for a prince. However, they were also cut scandalously low, revealing a good deal of his well-muscled chest. Nor was he the only one so attired. Many of the noble lords and ladies accompanying him were dressed in equally revealing outfits, showing a good deal more skin than would be considered decent in King's Landing.

Beside her, Lalisa smiled appreciatively as she noticed the same thing. "We should have come here sooner. I can't wait to see you in this style."

Roseanne fought back a laugh. "Lalisa, this is hardly the time."

Her wife held up her hands defensively. "I know, I know."

The Prince of Dorne and his entourage stopped a few paces away and bowed, though Qoren himself did so only slightly. Roseanne had to remind herself that he was an independent ruler, not subject to the Iron Throne. "Princess Lalisa, welcome to Dorne. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine, Prince Qoren. My father and I are grateful for your invitation to visit Sunspear."

"How could I pass up the chance to meet the famous Realm's Delight? Even in Dorne, we've heard tales of your beauty but I see they did not do you justice." He smiled wolfishly. "It's only a shame you presented thusly."