Arianne's expression changed as she said, "Back then Robert was still alive. If he had learned of our marriage alliance with the Targaryens, what fate would Dorne have faced?"
"In that case, why even mention the pact? If my sister hadn't been so cheap, poor Robert would probably still be alive today. He might have even lived another twenty years. Were you planning to marry old Prince Viserys when you're fifty? Even if he were alive, at that age he would hardly have the strength for it." Tyrion shrugged and said mockingly.
"Damn you!" Arianne snapped, slapping the dwarf. "Do you know how many suitors I've had over the years?
Renly, Loras, Edmure Tully—Robb's uncle. Even that old ghost Walder Frey shamelessly sent a marriage proposal to my father.
But my father always remembered that pact, keeping me bound to Prince Viserys!"
Tyrion's lips parted, the words on the tip of his tongue: Don't try to fool me. I am Westerosi too, and in King's Landing I'm known as the 'Seven Kingdoms' Know-It-All.' Your illustrious exploits, Princess Arianne, are hardly a secret in such circles.
Everyone said she was more like her uncle, Prince Oberyn—a true Dornishman who took both men and women to his bed, and was rumored to never spare even sheep.
From a young age her beauty was famed, her passions unrestrained, with countless lovers and a retinue of paramours.
She was especially drawn to handsome men, or those with the thrill of adventure and forbidden allure—such as himself, a dragonrider.
Or Renly.
Though he was gay, in appearance alone he was one of the most beautiful men in the Seven Kingdoms.
It wasn't he who pursued her, but she who tried again and again to seduce him.
And Ser Loras Tyrell, the "Knight of Flowers," was another strikingly handsome man.
She even ignored the thousand-year blood feud between Dorne and the Reach, planning to elope to Highgarden with him—though Loras himself never even knew she intended to seek him out.
Such tales in King's Landing were gossiped about with the same relish as "Littlefinger taking the Tully sisters' maidenhood," "Renly and Loras entangled," "Queen Cersei's secret liaisons," or "the dwarf spending the night at yet another brothel."
After all, the Imp was a duke's son, and Arianne was the daughter of a prince (equivalent to a duke). In modern terms, they were both standard members of the "inner circle."
"At the very least, your father should have informed Viserys," Tyrion finally said.
"You don't understand. My father had been observing the prince. As a boy he seemed fine, but as he grew he became irritable and hot-tempered, more and more like the Mad King.
If he had learned of a Dornish marriage pact, he would never have resisted coming here himself, perhaps even broadcasting it to the world.
For Dorne's safety, my father even kept me in the dark. How could he risk placing our fate in the hands of another Mad King?" Arianne said.
"Ah, that's the problem, isn't it? You Dornish don't want to take risks, yet you want great rewards. Is that even possible?" Tyrion said helplessly.
Arianne shook her head and sighed. "It's not that he avoided all risks, only that my father was cautious.
Three years ago, he even considered sending me across the Narrow Sea to serve as cupbearer to the Prince of Tyrosh, using that chance to meet Viserys and reveal the holy marriage pact.
But within months came the news of him dying at the hands of the Horse King."
Tyrion sneered. "So in the end, you all just scorned poor Prince Viserys.
When he had nothing, you never sought him out. Only when he became brother-in-law to the strongest khal in the Dothraki Sea, soon commanding tens of thousands of screaming warriors, did Prince Doran prepare to send you to him."
Arianne narrowed her eyes, studying the dwarf curiously. "You're a duke's son yourself. How can you speak so naïvely?
He had nothing, and a bad temper besides. Of course we ignored him.
With only Dorne's strength, we could never seize the Iron Throne.
But once he had the capital to claim a crown, our investment wouldn't be wasted. Even his flaws of character could be tolerated."
Tyrion was left stunned, at a loss for words.
"Now I've told you everything about the Dragon Queen's nature and methods. Can you tell me what Prince Doran truly thinks?" she asked, shifting the topic.
The Imp was never a fool. He knew their coupling was not just passion but that the Dornish also hoped to use him to learn about the Dragon Queen.
And though he recognized their intent, he still chose honesty, offering the clearest judgment he could—for he too had his own aims.
Arianne gazed deeply at the dwarf and said, "The Dragon Queen's refusal to wed Quentyn disappointed my father, but he was not angry.
For Dorne seeks only vengeance. We wish only to demand justice from the Lannisters for my aunt's death. Beyond marriage ties, we have no extravagant designs on the Iron Throne.
If the Queen truly challenges the throne one day, Dorne will support her as it did in Aerys's time. Quentyn might even become her Kingsguard knight.
But that is all. Dorne will not be her main force, nor will it commit its full strength to her cause."
"Very wise. The Queen will likely accept that," Tyrion said with a nod, his eyes glinting. "Only now there is another factor—Aegon."
"Aegon…" Arianne's beautiful face showed hesitation. After a long pause, she sighed. "Unless he meets my father personally and gains his recognition, Dorne will not give him any real support."
"Ah, blame Daenerys. Otherwise, things wouldn't be this troublesome."
"Blame her? What does she have to do with this?" Tyrion asked curiously.
"If Viserys were still alive, then Aegon's legitimacy would not matter. I would have married him according to the sacred pact, and his claim would far surpass Aegon's," Arianne said.
Without question, Viserys's claim stood higher than Aegon's.
First, Viserys was undeniably a Targaryen, known and acknowledged by all in the Seven Kingdoms. Aegon's origin, however, remained uncertain, his identity unproven.
Taking a step back, even if Rhaegar were alive and Aegon truly his son, would Rhaegar's claim to the throne be stronger than that of your second brother Viserys?
No!
Because Rhaegar broke his sacred marriage vows. Just like Prince Daemon Targaryen, the first man to renounce a betrothal, he forfeited his right of succession.
Secondly, a brother one grows up with will always be closer than a nephew who suddenly appears. Who Daenerys would support hardly needs to be said.
"You believe Viserys's death was connected to the Dragon Queen?" Tyrion asked, his expression odd.
"Heh. Khal Drogo poured an entire pot of molten gold over her brother's head in front of her, and she never spoke a single word to stop it," Arianne sneered.
"You seem to know the details quite well," Tyrion said.
"Viserys was, after all, once my betrothed. Even if I could not marry him, I had to at least know how he died," Arianne said with quiet sorrow.
"Then tell me, why would she want her brother dead?" Tyrion pressed.
Arianne hesitated, then shook her head. "At first, I thought it was for the Iron Throne. With Viserys gone, she became the only Targaryen.
But now, judging from her every move, she doesn't seem that desperate for the throne.
Perhaps, after gaining dragons and prosperity in Slaver's Bay, her ambitions shifted.
But whatever the case, she bears some responsibility for Viserys's death. I can picture it now: in that savage tent-palace of the horselords, Viserys placing all his hope of survival on the only kin he had in the world, only to be met with silence, and the despair that followed."
"Your sentimentality is truly adorable," Tyrion chuckled.
"What, am I wrong? I'm not the only one in the Seven Kingdoms who thinks so," Arianne replied, frowning.
"If I didn't understand the ways of the horselords, I might think the same as you."
With a sigh, Tyrion slowly explained, "First, you need to understand one thing. Fourteen-year-old Daenerys was not married to Drogo in the Westerosi sense. She was sold to him like a slave. Her bride price was over twenty thousand Dothraki screamers."
"This—" Arianne was shaken, incredulous. "But they held a wedding in Pentos."
"That doesn't contradict anything. A wife can still be bought."
"And you think the Khaleesi's rank equals that of a queen? In most khalasars, even the Khal's horse has higher standing than the Khaleesi.
Among the horselords, there has never been a case where the Khal dies and the Khaleesi rules in his stead."
"But I heard she commands a band of loyal horsemen."
"That is because of her own ability. The horsemen in her current khalasar are of two types: either her original followers, or slaves she freed in recent years.
Her husband Drogo had fifty thousand screamers and one hundred thousand followers, yet her starting khalasar numbered fewer than a hundred.
When Drogo died, every other horselord abandoned her, many even turned against her.
If you put my elder sister in her place, she would not have survived the Red Waste at all.
So forget Viserys—even if the Mad King had been reborn, or Rhaegar himself still lived, if the Khal wanted them dead, she could never have stopped it."
"She should have at least tried, instead of standing silent," Arianne muttered.
"Heh. Why don't you go to Vaes Dothrak, draw your sword, and see what happens? Apart from the Dragon Queen herself, anyone who sheds blood in the city of the horselords faces only death.
And besides, Viserys threatened to kill Drogo's unborn son by pointing a sword at Daenerys's pregnant belly in front of several khals.
Drogo had no choice but to kill his brother-in-law.
Looking back now, your father made the right decision.
More terrifying than marrying the Mad King would have been marrying a powerless, crownless Mad King."
The two sat in silence for a moment before Tyrion asked, "My niece, Myrcella—how is she?"
"Why bring that up suddenly?" Arianne asked in surprise.
"Heh. Have you forgotten it was I who sent her to Dorne? If something happened to her, I would carry that guilt all my life." Tyrion looked steadily at the Dornish princess, his tone pointed.
"She… I'm sorry, she is not well." Arianne turned her head away, unable to meet the mismatched eyes of her lover. "I harmed her. My uncle Oberyn's death made me lose all reason, and I foolishly attempted…"
Tyrion raised a hand, cutting her off. "I know Darkstar severed her ear and scarred her face. I only ask, how is she now?"
"She is a strong and brave child. My father has already sent men to High Hermitage to hunt down Gerold Dayne in vengeance for Myrcella, but Gerold strangely fled to Braavos—and there he became one of Daenerys's White Knights.
What do you make of that?
Could it be that he was her spy in Dorne all along, planted to sabotage relations between Dorne and the Iron Throne?" Arianne said, her voice full of shame and confusion.
"My dear, your imagination runs too wild. That was the very first time she had ever set foot on Westerosi soil."
(End of chapter)
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