292 AC
She had been in her room thinking over the day's events when Her Prince had come to see her and spoke of her father's apparent treachery, his lack of desire to stop their marriage.
It had surprised her less than it might have one or two days earlier, she had thought he might be coming around on it, but Arthur claimed that he had told him it had been devised as a means of punishing her cousins from the beginning, a twisted stream of logic that she could make out the shape of easily. They had perhaps overstepped their bounds more so than she would publicly
admit when they had stolen her father's seal. That was not something to be done lightly.
Still, it stung that she had spent eight months mostly shut in her room solely for the purposes of proving her Father's point. If he didn't mean it then he could have just told her. Arthur had done as much as soon as he found out.
She was glad that her prince was not like her father, at least in that way, and it hurt her now to see him depart. Five days after arriving and he was leaving for the docks to go on to Hightower and the arbor.
She had thought of sneaking aboard his ship, of course, stowing away so that she might elope with him, but it would never work, he had cautioned her against it and asked that she wait for him to return instead. It was a sad thing true, but a duty she was willing to bear.
So now she watched as the sails left over the horizon, they sailed to the south around the cape of Dorne, and then off along the coast, to see the last woman who might yet steal him from her.
It was a thought hard to bear, and she hoped against hope that her efforts had won his heart truly.
The princess of Dorne sagged into the chair. There was nothing more she could do now.
A thought struck her and she smiled, that wasn't entirely true after all. She would need to find a pen and some parchment, but there was nothing saying she could not write to him at least.
As the last of the white-ships faded into the distance, Arianne found her resolve.
Yes, she would not let her prince forget about her.
'Now' she tapped the tip of the quill to her lips 'What to write to him about?'
'Perhaps Tyene might have some ideas.'