Arianne was laughing.
"She said as much? The Obara that I know?"
Percy winced. "She wasn't shy about what she wanted. She's not shy about much. At least, that's the impression I got."
"You mean before or after you tore each other's clothes off and rutted on the floor?"
"Both. She basically accused me of being a fraud the first time that we met."
"She did, didn't she? When father offered to make you his squire, I thought she might flip the table."
"At least that shouldn't be a problem now that she's my fan."
Arianne let out a throaty, dry chuckle. "I suppose you could describe demanding to bear your children as a fan."
Percy sighed and ran his fingers through Arianne's hair. Both of them were on her bed. Fully clothed, too, which was unusual. Laying on their backs, Arianne was perpendicular to him, resting her head on his chest. Percy's legs were out straight. If Arianne didn't sleep in such an ostentatiously huge bed, one of them would've been hanging off the edge. He returned his fingers to her scalped and stroked through her curls.
"Is this going to be a problem?" Percy asked. "Obara isn't subtle like Tyene. I'm pretty sure the whole keep is going to know what she thinks of me and I give it a week before we get there. She's basically a princess, isn't she? Where I come from, those are above the pay grade of squires."
"Pay grade?" Arianne said.
"Above their station," Percy said.
Explaining the concept of salaries to a feudal princess was a long conversation that could only end in a headache for them both.
Arianne rolled onto her side. Her smile was impish as she rested her cheek on his shirt. "I don't recall hearing these worries when you took me as your lover."
"Because we were alone in the woods," Percy said. "We're in a castle here. The people have been good to me and I'm starting to like them. I'd hate to fight my way out because I slept with the wrong girl."
"It's the castle guards he's worried for…" Arianne murmured. She rolled her eyes. "Does my uncle seem like one to hold this against you?"
"No," Percy admitted.
"I'm glad you noticed as much. He's quite aware of Tyene's visits to this room. Even among the Dornish, Uncle Oberyn is a wild sort. How else could a prince be unmarried, with eight bastard daughters whom he raises himself? You're worrying in vain, Percy. My cousins have understood they can do as they wish since the days they crawled on four limbs. Oberyn would not tolerate any less from them. They are not true princesses in the first place." Arianne tucked hair behind her ear, smirking. "Only I have that title. Do you feel fortunate?"
"Of course I do. But your titles don't have anything to do with it."
Arianne closed her hazel eyes and puckered her lips. Percy sat up, holding her chin, and kissed her.
Dinner was in two hours. Plenty of time.
O-O-O
"Say that the spear was coming at you between the eyes. How would you defend it?"
Percy was feeling whiplash between Obara's questions and her posture. She had her elbows on the table, leaning halfway out of her seat, her chin propped up on her hand. Her eyes were crinkled. She looked like a maiden in love while she quizzed him on ways to kill and keep from dying.
Percy would've preferred to focus on his meal, but he was worried that if he ignored her, she'd make him give a demonstration in the middle of Oberyn's quarters.
"If I had a shield, I would use that."
"To deflect the blade?" Obara asked.
"To catch it like this." Percy brought his fork and knife together from opposite sides, clashing the serrated edge on the tines. "Between your sword and the edge of the shield, you can snap a spear in half."
"And if you get it wrong, the spear will bury in your head first."
Percy shrugged. "You asked what I would do."
Obara gave a lovestruck smile. "And you don't make mistakes."
"Well… not with something this simple."
"What about if you didn't have a shield?"
"If I were you, I think I would be more worried about a dagger in my back, cousin," Arianne said.
Obara tilted her head, looking behind her, where she found Tyene smiling ear to ear. The blonde girl was holding a wine bottle in her hands, unable to pour any for Percy because her seat had been usurped. Tyene tilted her head, mostly shutting her eyes as she continued to smile.
"Please, Arianne, I would never stab my sister," Tyene said. "I would never stab anyone. At most, I would give them one little cut."
She cracked her eyes open a little bit wider, looking directly at Obara.
"Do you have something to say?" Obara asked.
"I think I've said plenty," Tyene said, holding the wine bottle in a two-handed grip.
The seating arrangement at the table was lopsided. Oberyn's youngest daughters were in bed, including Sarella tonight, although the prince had shared his suspicion that she was reading by candlelight inside of her room. Nymeria was yet to arrive and Arianne and Obara were sitting on either side of Percy, while Tyene stayed as close to them as she could get. Two sides of the table were entirely empty while at the far end, Oberyn sat with only Ellaria beside him.
"I've become unpopular," Oberyn said.
He wore a frown until Ellaria touched his arm. She leaned toward her paramour, running her fingers down his silken sleeve.
"You still have me," she said huskily.
"And that's all I need." Oberyn leaned in.
They shared a kiss that was few degrees too passionate to be appropriate at a diner table, or in front of company full stop.
The door opened and another beautiful woman glided inside. Nymeria moved in a way that kept her upper body stable and her head level, lending an air of grace whenever she moved.
The second-eldest Sand Snake went to a chair on Oberyn's side of the table, eyeing the kissing pair as she daintily drew plates toward herself.
"Would the two of you please rein your urges in before I turn sick?" she asked.
Oberyn and Ellaria separated. She returned to her meal while Oberyn regarded his daughter sitting next to him. He was smiling warmly.
"For the favor you've shown me, I'll grant your request."
"My deepest thanks," Nymeria said.
Percy was surprised when she turned her eyes to him. As much as her sister's were obsessed with him, Nymeria was different. She was polite when they dealt with each other without showing much interest. It was rare for her to start a conversation. When it did happen, it was usually about some kind of business.
"When you became my father's squire, he promised you etiquette lessons," Nymeria said. "While he could teach you, there's no reason to further tax his busy days. All that he knows I know better, so we've come to an agreement. I will be your tutor… If I choose to be. There's one thing I want to know first. The answer to a single, straightforward question."
"Is this like a quiz?" Percy asked. "I've got a bad history with those."
"It isn't arithmetic or history," she said. "From a group of a dozen, I might get a dozen new answers. It just sates my curiosity." Nymeria had a bright smile that she handed out cheaply, wearing it most of the time, even when Percy didn't get the feeling she was happy. "What is the most dangerous thing in the world?"
"That's the question?"
"That's the question," Nymeria said. "Don't think too deeply. The best answer is your first one."
"I don't understand why you bother with this question," Obara said. Her mood was getting worse the longer that Percy's time was monopolized. "What could be more dangerous than a skilled and furious warrior?"
Tyene poured herself a glass of wine. "No armor or weapon can protect from a good venom. Poison kills even kings. There's nothing greater or more beautiful than that."
"But they have to ingest the poison." Arianne's face matched her voice, uncharacteristically heavy. "A king can check his meals. If a knight has his armor, he can keep himself from being cut. The real danger is carelessness."
Under the table, Percy touched her knee. Arianne smiled at him, her eyes sad. The brief lull was broken by Nymeria.
"A new answer from you, Arianne," Nymeria said. "Quite different from the ones you've given in the past. But the one I asked has still not answered."
She told him not to second guess what came to mind, so Percy told her the first thing that he thought of.
"Volcanos."
Nymeria's smile faded. "What?"
"There are regions of Essos that believe volcanos represent the wrath of the gods," Ellaria said. "Is that what you mean? A disaster brought on by divine might?"
"No, not gods, just volcanos," Percy said. "Gods I can handle. Eruptions not so much."
He'd fought gods, titans, and giants, mostly coming out okay. The closest he ever came to dying was in the depths of Mount St. Helens. He'd never forget the feeling of being blasted through the air in the middle of a column of ash and scalding heat. If Ogygia's curse hadn't scooped him up, he would have died that day.
"What a ridiculous answer," Nymeria said. "It's absurd. It barely makes sense. We'll hold your first lesson tomorrow."
O-O-O
The Sandship kept surprising Percy. Just like its roof, the building was a patchwork. For all the wide hallways, tall ceilings, and stark stone rooms that you'd expect from an ancient castle, it also had its quieter spots.
He found Nymeria in a room that had been painted white. That was rare. Most rooms used the natural color of the sandstone. Pairing the white walls were tapestries of blue, red, and orange. They were some of the first art Percy had seen in Westeros. Most people didn't have the luxury to make it or the gold to afford it.
The Martells obviously had the latter. Stopping in front of one, he could see shapes. There were people and boats that looked to be telling a story.
"Nymeria and the one-thousand ships. My namesake."
Nymeria Martell was tucked away in the room. In addition to the tapestries, there were a variety of potted plants. They'd been placed in sunlight cast by the room's windows and watered by hand. A miniature palm tree barely taller than Percy half-covered a small table with its fronds, and Nymeria sat there in one of two chairs.
Her smile was back. She gestured for Percy to take the other seat. When he did, he found her looking at him.
She didn't say anything, so he just looked back. She had olive skin slightly brighter than Arianne's. She was probably the most beautiful Sand Snake. Her face had the kind of cut-from-marble features that could be any artist's muse. As usual, her dark hair was tied into a ponytail, swept over one shoulder.
"Interesting," Nymeria said.
"What is?"
"You can tell a lot about a person by what they do in silence. Do they fidget? Rush to begin a conversation? Some grow angry, or frustrated."
She didn't share what she thought of his inaction. Nymeria called and a servant entered, placing a pitcher of amber tea on the table, followed by a cup for each of them. When the table was set, the servant left promptly.
Nymeria took the pitcher and filled her glass. When Percy held his hand out to take the pitcher, she ignored it and leaned across the table, filling his glass instead.
"The host pours drinks," Nymeria said. "It's rude to fill your own, unless you're amongst true friends. It means spitting on hospitality."
"Oh," Percy said.
That seemed pretty silly, but Nymeria wasn't the one who came up with it, she was just teaching him what she promised to. So he nodded.
"Consider that a sample," Nymeria said. "I'll teach you much more. But not today. For now, I'd like to have a chat."
Percy wondered if this was another test.
"I gave my word that I would teach you. I won't go back on that. This isn't a test, just a way to get to know each other better."
Percy hesitated. He hadn't said anything, and yet… He was usually harder to read than that.
"You're more observant than your sisters."
Nymeria smiled, raising her glass. She held it cupped between both hands the way Percy used to drink hot chocolates in New York's winter months.
"Obara can pick apart the movements of a knight with a glance. Tyene looks upon a hundred kinds of venom every day and tells them apart by their hue. My eyes are no better, just different. It happens that I can see into the hearts of people. I understand what they're thinking, what they want in life, and even what they fear."
"I'm not sure I'm excited to have a heart-to-heart when you put it like that."
"If it makes you feel more comfortable," Nymeria said, "I find you to be quite the mystery. It's not often that someone leaves me this stumped. A man skilled enough to be a famous knight, yet he asks to do chores? My father offered to make you a squire in name only. You turned him down."
"I don't like standing out."
"That proves me wrong. I was sure that was the reason you refused to bow to a prince in his own keep."
Percy's eyes sharpened. He'd been alone with Doran Martell and Areo Hotah during that meeting. "How do you know that?"
"I hear a lot of things," Nymeria said. "I'm a terrible gossip. A guard captain speaks to his guards. His guards talk to the servants they're sweet on. Servants are fond of a kind half-noble lady with a beautiful smile and silver to spare. It's not a very fancy story. I'd rather hear why someone who hates attention goaded a prince."
"I never goaded him. That's just how I am."
"A dangerous way to live. If you're telling the truth. Which raises its own question— why does a man who won't use manners care about learning them?"
This time, Percy winced.
"It's not just me anymore," he said. "I'll have to deal with nobles as long as I stick with Arianne and I can't fight every self-important douchebag who throws his name around. I'm getting the feeling there are a lot of those. If I piss all of them off, Arianne's going to suffer as much as they do. I need to know how to pick my battles… even if the idea makes me feel a little sick to my stomach."
Nymeria didn't reply. She squinted at Percy. He got the feeling he was being catalogued, all his features observed and noted down.
He took a sip of the tea.
"This is good. Fruity."
Nymeria laughed, interrupting the serious atmosphere. "It's made from a breed of apple grown in southeastern Dorne. I like it as well. Sweet and smooth, perfect for bringing down people's guards."
"Like you."
"Exactly!" she chirped. "You're fun. Usually, men who fight so are so dull. They like to dominate those around them, but you aren't afraid to use your wits. I like you, Percy Jackson."
"That seems to be a theme," Percy muttered.
"I'd like to offer a deal. We'll be meeting three times a week for these lessons. With such a schedule, I could teach you all you need to know in six months. I propose we meet this way for the next two years. In addition to our lessons, we'll have some lovely chats."
"Like this one?"
"Slightly different. I've asked you a lot of questions today, haven't I? In the future I'll do much more telling. I have lots of stories that you and Arianne would love to hear. I'll share them with you."
"Couldn't you do that anyway? I don't get why we have to use the lessons."
Nymeria sighed. "My ears are good, but they aren't the only pair in the castle. I prefer not to be overheard when possible. Life is simpler when you keep your affairs private."
"What do you get in return?"
"The truth of you," Nymeria said.
She let her drink down on the table, interlocking her fingers.
"I'm not greedy. I promised to do the telling in the future, and I meant it. Each time we meet, I only wish to get one question. I will ask it, and you must answer truthfully. The only thing it will cost you is mystique— which, if you don't chase attention, should be something you welcome parting with."
She was underestimating Percy's life. Nothing would attract more attention than the full story, if anyone even believed him.
Still, he liked what Nymeria was offering. Information was something he needed. Sometimes, living in Westeros reminded him of his first summer as a demigod, knowing nothing and learning everything on the fly. Dyanna taught him as much as she could. Her information had been old, though. She knew about the histories of houses, not what they were up to now. Nymeria was offering to fill those gaps.
Percy shifted his grip on his glass, going from the prim hold Nymeria had been using to a one-handed grasp. He guzzled the second half of his tea glass and smacked it down like a freshly-finished beer mug.
"Let's hear your question," Percy said.
"You're giving me a question today? What a generous man!" Nymeria flexed her fingers, setting her elbows on the table, wearing her disarming smile. "You're quite headstrong, Percy. When you speak about things, you do it with conviction. I'm curious how far that extends. When you believe something is the right thing to do, and that you must accomplish it, how far are you willing to go?"
Percy smiled. Today, at least, he was getting an easy one.
"I'll do the right thing even if I die for it."
Or, to give the full answer, he already had.
The world might have changed. His powers were weaker, he spoke a new language, and he was squiring for a prince. But who he was would always be the same.
"You're telling the truth," Nymeria said.
"That was the deal, wasn't it?"
"It's not that I doubted your honesty, it's that hearing such a thing said with a straight face is… It's rare. I suppose I didn't really believe…"
Nymeria trailed off. Her expression suddenly changed. Her smile got smaller, but it didn't feel off-putting anymore. There was a brightness in her eyes that hadn't been there before. Percy must have looked a little surprised, because she giggled.
"What does this face mean?" he asked.
"It means," Nymeria said, "that I might be a bit jealous of my cousin. Should I pay my own visit to Wylmouth?"
"Your dad asked the same thing."
Nymeria's face soured, though her eyes remained the same.
"Curses," she said. "If there were any more like you to bring back, he would have fetched them already."
"Sorry. I guess I'm one of a kind."
"Oh, on that, we are in the utmost agreement," Nymeria said. "Perhaps these lessons will be more of a treat than I thought."