A Crown of Winter Roses

Chapter 3

Rosaerys had spent the better part of the morning caught up in her room, her hands drifting through her various cases; she could have sworn she had put it in this one. Her brows deepened, as her hand stretched further to the bottom.

"Aha!" Daario called, the door swinging open as Rosaerys was caught red handed. "I knew you weren't ready! Prince Oberyn and Prince Doran have been expecting you, now please let's go." There was barely a moment to breath as Daario gripped her upper arm and pulled gently.

"No, Daario I'm not ready to go down there yet, please, just give me a little longer." Her eyes grew to the size of saucers as he watched her. The internal battle raging on in his eyes.

"No, it can't be that important that we are keeping the hosts, now let's go." Rosaerys let out a defeated sigh before trudging alongside Daario, towards their fate over whether or not their alliance would go through.

She had dressed down today, choosing a simple red cotton tunic and dark breeches, the colour of the Targaryen sigil; her hair left to roll in waves down her back.

As they neared the hall, the guards standing either side pushed on the door. The rich scent of spices and mulled wine hit her nose before she could even see the table, as they drew close it was piled high with foods. Oberyn sat on one side of the table, and the man she assumed was Doran sat on the other.

He was far older than Oberyn, grey now pulled through his hair more than the black but she could still see the distinctive Martell feature, he had a kind smile on his withered face.

"Prince Doran, thank you. I am honored truly to be a guest of yours. I am sorry I'm late." She smiled, her eyebrow threatening to quirk as he was pulled on his chair, and drawn close. She had barely noticed the orange blanket that covered his hands and feet but as he drew one out she noticed the gout. He was far older than she originally thought.

She placed a small kiss on his hand, before standing straight.

"The pleasure truly is all mine, Queen Rosaerys; please, do not fret over time, we do have the rest of the day, along with the remainder of your time here, I sure won't." Doran seemed a humble man, tense around the edges yet humble.

"I am surprised however, of how much you look like your father; almost the splitting image." He had moved back to his original space, motioning her to sit on one side and Daario on the other. "The eyes almost spot on, I remember him sitting exactly where you are, so many years ago. Elia sitting just opposite, and my mother perched close by, gripping her hand." A dry chuckle left his lips as he dropped his hand, almost as though it became heavy. Rosaerys could do nothing, it was almost as though the name Rhaegar or Elia left a dull taste in his mouth; a taste he could not remove.

"Even your facial expressions are the same; the quirk of your lip, the smile, even the glimmer of hope for something better in your eyes." It was Oberyn who was quick to join in, staring with the same intense eyes. Rosaerys could feel the tension mount in the air, the way it snaked up her back, leaving nothing but a cold chill.

"We Dornishmen remember the way your father treated our princess, his wife. The way he left her and stole another." She turned her head towards Doran; this wasn't a meeting of an alliance, this was to know what happened. Rosaerys pushed away her chair, letting it clamber to the floor but it was too late. A Dornish guard, far bigger than what she was, gripped onto her waist, meanwhile his other hand held a longaxe to her neck. Her feet left the ground and she was left dangling mid-air; her eyes searched the elder man's face.