Chapter 163: Chapter 164: Deceleration of War
"Lord Caesar! This is too much!" Nathalie Dayne burst out, though the playful glint in her violet eyes betrayed her outrage.
"Lady Nathalie, in what way have I been too much?" Samwell asked, feigning innocence. He was in the middle of inspecting his vineyards when the young Countess of Starfall stormed over.
"I waited for you in Highgarden for days, and you never came!"
"The duties here kept me tied up; I simply couldn't spare the time," Samwell replied with a grin, reaching out to ruffle her hair, as was becoming habit. "So, how was Highgarden? Did you enjoy it?"
"It was beautiful!" Nathalie's feigned anger melted away as she launched into an excited recount of her time at Highgarden—fields of blooming roses, river cruises, hunting trips, bonfire feasts, and endless delicacies. Between her stories, one message was clear:
He had missed out on quite the experience.
"It sounds like you had an incredible time." Samwell listened patiently and then asked, "Did you get to meet Lady Olenna?"
"I did! She was actually very kind, nothing like the fearsome stories I'd heard."
"Of course, it seems she took a liking to you," he remarked with a chuckle. "Did she introduce you to any eligible young lords?"
"No, she didn't," Nathalie shook her head, the little bells in her hair jingling lightly. "Even if she had, I would have refused."
Samwell raised his brows, surprised. So the "Queen of Thorns" had held back on matchmaking? Perhaps she didn't want to risk angering him—a consideration that suggested Highgarden now saw Starfall firmly within his sphere of influence. This newfound respect from Highgarden pleased Samwell.
They strolled together under the afternoon sunlight filtering through the grapevine leaves, casting dappled shadows over them. The sound of birds chirping in the trees and the ocean waves crashing in the distance filled the air, giving a sense of quiet warmth. Nathalie held onto Samwell's arm, her voice a continuous flow of stories and laughter, while time passed swiftly.
But, as was often the case, these peaceful moments were short-lived.
Maester Qyburn approached with a letter from King's Landing, his expression urgent.
As Samwell read it, his face grew somber. Nathalie, picking up on his tension, asked curiously, "What's wrong, Sam?"
"The Iron Throne has declared war on House Martell." Samwell crumpled the letter, an unreadable look in his eyes.
Though he had expected this day would come, and even played a role in its arrival, the grim reality of war now struck him speechless for a moment.
The color drained from Nathalie's face. She instinctively clung to Samwell's arm, her voice trembling as she asked, "Sam, w-what about me? What will happen to us?"
Samwell gently patted her hand, which was gripping his arm tightly. "Don't worry. Starfall won't be dragged into this. I promise you that. For now, write to summon all of House Dayne's vassals."
"Alright," she agreed with a nod, though she looked at him pleadingly, "But Sam… could you come with me?"
"Of course, I'll go with you to Starfall," he reassured her. "But we don't need to rush. First, write the letter to summon your vassals. We can leave in a few days."
"Alright," Nathalie nodded, not questioning his reasoning.
After Qyburn left, they continued their stroll in the vineyard, though the lighthearted mood had faded. Nathalie grew quiet, lost in thought, still clutching his arm.
Samwell remained calm, having anticipated this moment. The Iron Throne had only just declared war; he had no immediate obligation to respond, especially as he wasn't a direct vassal of the Crown. He would wait for his liege, Lord Mace Tyrell, to summon him, which left him a window of time to arrange matters in Starfall.
Nathalie stayed in Eagle's Nest for three more days. On the fourth day, Samwell surprised her with an unexpected visitor.
"Mother!" Nathalie cried out, rushing into the arms of a veiled woman who had just arrived.
"Lady Ashara," Samwell greeted the woman with a smile. Upon hearing of the war declaration, he had immediately sent for the wandering Crow tribe.
"Mother, you're here to come back to Starfall with me, right?" Nathalie asked hopefully.
"I—" Ashara began to refuse, but Samwell interjected.
"Lady Ashara, a war is on the horizon. You should return to Starfall for a while. I know you're worried—otherwise, you wouldn't have come the moment I sent word."
"Yes, mother, please!" Nathalie pleaded, clinging to her mother.
With a sigh, Ashara finally nodded, giving in.
Nathalie's face lit up, and she hugged her mother joyfully, bouncing up and down.
Once she had settled down, the three of them boarded a ship bound for Starfall. Although the sea voyage was short—they set out in the morning and arrived just past noon—a sudden downpour greeted them upon arrival.
Lord Hughes Dayne of High Hermitage and Sir Gyle Sand, the acting castellan of Starfall, waited at the dock in the pouring rain. Both were among the first knights of House Dayne to swear fealty to Samwell, and he had rewarded them with important positions in Starfall.
The reception was brief and subdued due to the rain, and everyone quickly retreated into the castle to escape the downpour.
Hughes led Samwell personally to his chambers, which were richly furnished. A large feather bed with bedposts carved into the shape of swords dominated the room, and a blue drape in the colors of House Caesar, rather than the usual purple of House Dayne, hung around the bed in honor of their guest. Plush Myrish carpets covered the floors, and a fire blazed in the hearth.
After hanging up his damp cloak, Samwell turned to Hughes, who handed him a list of names on a parchment.
"These are the vassals who have yet to respond to the summons, my lord."
Samwell glanced through the list, his face impassive as he read the names. Twelve of House Dayne's bannermen had ignored the summons.
It was a stark reminder that Nathalie's authority in Starfall was still fragile; so many dared to openly disregard her call.
Sensing Samwell's silence, Hughes added, "Lord, Sunspear has also sent an envoy. Prince Doran issued a summons, requesting Starfall's forces join their campaign."
"Who did they send?"
"Oberyn's bastard daughter, Nymeria Sand."
Samwell's lips curled in a cold smile. "The Red Viper has no shortage of bastards, it seems. He just lost one in King's Landing, and now he sends another to Starfall. Does he not worry about his lineage?"
Hughes chuckled. "It would take quite a lot for him to run out of heirs, my lord. His bastards are scattered across Dorne. He won't be running out of them anytime soon."
"Well, if he keeps acting so brazenly, perhaps that day will come sooner than he expects." Samwell folded the parchment, eyes hardening. "Inform all those who have already arrived that Countess Nathalie will hold a council tomorrow morning. They are required to attend."
"As you command."
"Oh, and make sure that Sand Snake from Sunspear is also present."
Hughes's face grew uneasy. "My lord, Nymeria Sand isn't in the castle."
"Not in the castle?" Samwell raised an eyebrow.
"She arrived five days ago but disappeared when she heard the Countess wasn't here. I suspect she may be meeting with some of the other knights—those twelve who have ignored the summons."
A cold smile crossed Samwell's face. "Seems they're already conspiring, then. Very well. Spread word that Countess Nathalie will make an important announcement tomorrow, and all of House Dayne's vassals are required to attend. I'd like to see if that Sand Snake and her allies dare to show up."
"Understood, my lord."
After Hughes left, Samwell took a hot bath and changed into dry clothes. Just as he was about to head out for a walk around the castle, a knock sounded at his door.
Opening it, he found Nathalie standing there, looking shy but composed.
The young countess wore a simple purple dress that matched her violet eyes perfectly, with a silver sash cinching her slender waist. Her dark hair was still damp, emitting a soft fragrance, suggesting she had just bathed.
"My lord, thank you for your hospitality. I was just coming to thank you personally," she said, a teasing smile tugging at her lips.
Samwell's exaggeratedly formal response made Nathalie giggle.
"May I come in?"
"Of course. This is your home, after all."
Nathalie entered, wringing her hands slightly, looking anxious.
Samwell picked up on her unease. "What's on your mind? Are you worried about tomorrow's meeting?"
Nathalie nodded, then shook her head, her gaze uncertain and vulnerable.
"Sam…I don't think I'm suited to lead," she admitted softly.
He reached out to ruffle her hair, comforting her. "No one is born knowing how to lead. You're young; it's natural to feel unsure and afraid. In time, you'll get used to it. And don't forget, you have me to help you…and now your mother, too."
"Now that she's here, does that mean you'll be leaving soon?" Nathalie's expression was heartbreakingly vulnerable, like a lost little bird.
"I will have to leave," Samwell said gently. "With war brewing, I have to return to my own lands to prepare. But don't worry; I'll make sure Starfall is stable and secure before I go."
"Then… take me with you!" Nathalie suddenly clung to his arm. "You took me with you the last time you went to battle."
"This is different," Samwell explained patiently. "Last time, you were just my little squire, but now you're the Countess of Starfall. Your actions now carry the weight of your title. This time, you're not free to act as you please. While I can give you reasons not to join Dorne's forces, you absolutely cannot fight for the Iron Throne. Aligning yourself too publicly with King's Landing could alienate your people—Dornish folk are fiercely proud and don't take kindly to outsiders."
Samwell's explanation seemed to fall on deaf ears. Nathalie's lip quivered, and her eyes glistened with tears that began to spill over, one after another. She clung to his arm, her distress plain and powerful.
He reached up, attempting to wipe away her tears, but they only seemed to flow faster, as if breaking free of a dam.
At a loss, he was about to offer more comforting words when Nathalie suddenly leaned in, capturing his lips in a clumsy but desperate kiss.
Samwell hesitated only a moment, then softened, letting her embrace deepen. He held her close, guiding her until the unpracticed kiss became warm and tender, an unspoken promise between them.
The room fell silent, except for the gentle crackling of the fire in the hearth.
(End of Chapter)
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Iceswallowcome
Iceswallowcome yow? should i like change this? I forgot how old this girl nathalie is
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone