GAWKING OUT OF THE WINDOW, Tremonda's mahogany eyes had never seen so much peeling skin. Ever. It seemed that culprit was the sun, lowborn people milling around with ripe skin like she'd never seen. The Dornish people were outside for most of their lives, yet she'd never seen anyone return inside in such a shade. She cowered behind the lace curtains as they passed through a market. Root vegetables were traded between grubby hands that delved into burlap sacks for small amounts of coin. The smallfolk peered into the carriage with large, curious eyes.
"They are not used to such sun," her father explained when she'd asked, "A small dose of summer's lethal love, and their skin cracks like unwatered earth. They are not like us Dornish," he reminded her, "Their skin is not as accustomed to the sun as we are. It peels and they shed it, like a snake."
"It smells awful," Merry complained, leaning to the side and resting her head against the plush inside of the wheelhouse. She was sat beside her father, opposite her mother and two sisters. "I just want to go home."
"And I just want you to shut up," Tremonda countered resentfully, wielding the wit of both her mother and her aunt Elia. She turned her nose up at her sister. "For once."
"What have I told you about manners, Tremonda?" her mother chided. "You have to be kind to your sisters."
"But I hate them!" Tremonda hissed back.
"No, you do not," Gwendys corrected her, "Someday, you'll find, that family is all you have."
"What about friends?" Elly interrupted.
"Friends come and go," Gwendys responded, looking directly at Oberyn as she spoke. He shifted and avoided her powerful gaze uncomfortably. "Sisters are for forever."
Gwen did her best, she really did, and she constantly told her daughter that constantly being rude and addressing people in a harsh manner wasn't going to get her anywhere, but she just didn't seem to listen, and there was only so many times Gwen could try. She suspected that made her a bad parent, or something. People often made snide comments about how much of a handful they seemed to be, especially about the rude comments that Tremonda tended to make.
But she loved her daughters, and would never dare allow anybody else to take her place if they offered. Those girls were the sole reason that she woke up for in the morning.
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( FLEA BOTTOM, KING'S LANDING ) EARLY 300 AC
PRINCE OBERYN WAS THE ONE WHO HALTED THE CARRIAGE PROCESSION IN FLEA BOTTOM. He'd mentioned to Gwendys that he wanted to stop for some air, and to stretch his legs. For a moment, she'd thought he was humouring her, as the musty town was the last place one would go for fresh air. However, he leaped out of the carriage without another word, leaving herself and her daughters alone.
