Chapter 593

With both Daenerys and Aegor arriving outside King’s Landing and meeting separately with Young Aegon and Margaery, the long-standing three-way stalemate across the Blackwater was finally broken and reshaped.

The day after the Night’s Watch had angered the "Little Rose" into storming back to the Reach’s camp in a fury, Aegon Targaryen publicly declared himself king. The Reach immediately recognized his claim, offering their full support and announcing a marriage pact between the two factions.

The two camps, previously separated by several miles, were dismantled and moved closer together—whether by coincidence or as a deliberate show of force was debatable. In the end, they merged into a single vast encampment directly across the river from the Night’s Watch stronghold. Over forty thousand men now stood united, their banners forming a sea of color so vast and vibrant that its presence was palpable even across the Blackwater.

Further south, the Dornish camp remained in its original position. Negotiations had yet to conclude, and House Martell had not committed to either side.

Both "Targaryen" factions knew the score—House Martell would support whoever made the better offer.
----


In the biting wind, Aegor stood at the southern gate of Blackwall Keep, adjusting his cuffs and collar with Myrcella’s assistance as he prepared to greet his old friends at the encampment entrance.

He could easily defeat the forty-thousand-strong force across the river, but with Stannis lurking nearby, he lacked the opportunity to annihilate them completely. Nor could he prevent them from regrouping after a defeat, harassing his forces from the outskirts. He could not afford to leave an enemy force unchecked behind him while besieging King’s Landing.

The Dornish spearmen, numbering ten thousand, were an unknown quantity in terms of battlefield effectiveness, but their support was a necessity.

And Aegor was confident he could win them over.

Young Aegon would certainly attempt to secure Dorne’s allegiance as well, but since his greatest ally—and the family he was marrying into—was the Reach, his offer could never be more generous than Aegor’s.

“Commander! They’ve arrived! The Dornish envoy’s ship just crossed the river and docked!” A scout came running in, breathless from exertion. “But it’s not Prince Oberyn! It’s a woman! One of her attendants called her ‘Princess’!”

“Oberyn isn’t coming?”

Aegor was caught off guard. He had done his research and confirmed that the commander of the Dornish host was the "Red Viper" himself. His entire negotiation plan had been built around that expectation. Yet now, instead of Oberyn, they had sent a princess?

What did that mean?

“There is only one princess in Dorne—Arianne Martell, Prince Doran’s eldest daughter,” Myrcella supplied, seeing his hesitation. “Under Dornish law, she will inherit her father’s rule upon his death. She is the Martells’ third most powerful figure, after Doran and Oberyn. Her presence carries weight, my lord—you need not worry.”

That made sense.

Aegor nodded, reassured, but still mildly irritated.

The third most important Martell was still significant, but she was not the second. More importantly, he was old friends with Oberyn—he knew how to negotiate with him. Arianne, on the other hand, was a complete unknown.

But beyond the simple disappointment of expecting an old friend and getting a stranger, there was another nagging thought: if Oberyn was supposed to lead the army but had not come, could it mean he had gone to negotiate with the Reach instead, while Arianne was sent here?

“Fine. Since she’s here, we’ll treat her as we would Prince Oberyn.” Aegor set aside his unease and strode toward the gate. “Tell me what you know about her as we walk.”

“Understood.” Myrcella fell into step beside him, her striking green eyes glinting as she searched her memory. “By Dornish law, Arianne is the rightful heir. However, for reasons unknown, Prince Doran sent her younger brother, Quentyn, to foster with Lord Anders Yronwood when he was still a child. Lord Yronwood is the most powerful Dornish noble under the Martells—Warden of the Stone Way and of royal blood himself.

"When I was a child at the Red Keep, I heard many whispers that Doran intended to break with Dornish tradition and name his son heir instead of his daughter.”

She paused briefly, catching her breath, then continued, “Although Prince Quentyn perished in Meereen, his death did not erase the lingering uncertainty about the Martell succession. With another younger brother still living, Arianne might still feel insecure about her position. And that insecurity, my lord, is something you can use to your advantage.”

She took a deep breath before adding, “If Queen Daenerys emerges victorious, she will become the first woman in Westerosi history to rule as monarch. If the Seven Kingdoms can accept a female king, then having a ruling princess in Dorne will no longer be controversial. If Daenerys believes her own claim to the Iron Throne takes precedence over Aegon’s, then she must also recognize Arianne’s claim over her brother’s. That alone gives Arianne a natural inclination to support us.”

Aegor slowed his pace slightly, realizing that Myrcella had been struggling to keep up while speaking at length.

“And secondly,” she continued, “the Queen remains unmarried. If she so much as hints that she would consider a Dornish husband, the threat Arianne’s brother poses to her inheritance would be greatly reduced. After all, a ruling monarch cannot also govern Dorne. You don’t need to lie, my lord—just phrase things carefully so that she draws that conclusion herself.”

“Understood.” Aegor nodded. It was useful insight. “Anything else? What about her personality?”

“I don’t know her personally, so I won’t make assumptions. However...” Myrcella hesitated, then pressed on. “This is just a rumor, mind you! But Dornish women are said to be... passionate. And Arianne Martell is rumored to be particularly... free-spirited. She is known to do whatever it takes to achieve her goals, without concern for convention. It is possible—just possible—that she may attempt to seduce you, using you as both a lover and a political asset to strengthen her position against her brother.”

She had initially planned to warn him outright to be cautious, but then she reconsidered.

This was a matter of mutual consent. Who was she to say whether Aegor would mind being "seduced"?

So instead, she concluded with: “My lord, I trust you will weigh the risks and make the choice most beneficial to yourself.”

Aegor smirked.

So it was her.

Now that he thought about it, he did recall hearing about Arianne Martell. While secondhand information was never as reliable as firsthand experience, some preparation was always better than none.

He suddenly felt glad that he had allowed Myrcella to accompany him. Intelligence and strategy could be handled by any clever mind, but noble backgrounds, personal histories, and the unspoken rules of aristocracy—these were things that no amount of brilliance could compensate for. That kind of knowledge had to be ingrained, something a common-born scholar like Qyburn or his other advisors could never provide so fluently.

“How old is she? Still unmarried?”
----


By the time Myrcella finished answering, they had already reached the gates leading toward the docks.

Under the golden spear-and-sun banners of House Martell, a group of Dornish warriors stood armed with spears and round shields. At their head was a woman, clad in elaborate, finely adorned silks. She had dark eyes, black hair, and a figure that was full but not heavy. Her skin was a rich olive hue, smooth and sun-kissed—a strikingly exotic beauty. Something about her reminded Aegor of the Princess Jasmine from Aladdin in his past life.

“They say ‘Dornish warriors are as numerous as grains of sand,’” Aegor greeted her with a broad smile. “But I think they missed something—Dornish beauties are even more plentiful. Today, I have the honor of meeting one.”

Arianne smiled coyly. “I have heard much of you, Lord Commander. You live up to your reputation.” Then, with a dramatic shiver, she added, “But gods, it is freezing here. Can we talk inside?”