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59.86% GOT: Reborn as a Martell / Chapter 88: GOT : Chapter 88

บท 88: GOT : Chapter 88

( Edric POV )

Edric Dayne hurriedly put on the finishing touches to his garb for the royal wedding. As Quentyn had said, he needed to look impeccable, if only for appearances' sake. As Lord Dayne, he would be the second or third-highest standing member of the Dornish delegation, depending on who you asked.

Therefore, a wardrobe worthy of the name was completely in order. Purple was the sigil of his house, and purple was his dress. A cream white doublet engraved with lavender patterns over which he put a purple vest showing the star and sword of house Dayne on both sides. Intricate purple gloves inherited, her aunt Allyria had told him, from his own legendary uncle, Arthur.

He also had boots her aunt had also gifted him, embroidered with the sigil of house Dayne on the sides too. Not to mention elegant white pants and a beautiful golden belt. For Dornishmen, even during weddings, the tradition was to have ceremonial daggers attached. 

The Daynes were an exception to this, as they had small swords. Nothing too dangerous that you would carry to the battlefield. Such an honor was only reserved for the Sword of the Morning who reserved the right to wield Dawn.

No, Edric had an estoc with a purple pommel engraved with…the sigil and words of House Gardener! A war prize taken long ago when the Daynes had burnt down the Oakenseat of Highgarden, which belonged to his father and now belonged to him. He would have worn something else in order not to vex the Reachers, but Quentyn dissuaded him by saying it was a great idea to remind them of certain mistakes.

Finally, to round everything out, he wore a small necklace around his neck, which had the star of house Dayne carved in an amethyst at the center. Not excessive, but always good to remind everyone that the Daynes were a very wealthy house.

Quickly passing a hand through his hair, Edric ran out into the halls of the Red Keep. He was likely already late to the party. The second one, that is.

Because there had been a first one the day before, where the bride and groom had received gifts from a variety of people, the highlight of which was the gifting of a Valyrian steel blade from Tywin Lannister himself. Edric didn't bring anything, but Quentyn reassured him. Prince Oberyn gifted the boy-king something on behalf of all of Dorne. When Edric asked why Quentyn himself hadn't bought anything, he shrugged.

"I would have brought him a book of such rarity that the whole room would have gasped. But the little shit would have likely taken that pretty sword of his and hacked it to pieces."

It was then that Edric had his first taste of why they called King Joffrey "the ill-born". He seemed like a cruel boy, not hesitating to jape about that poor Stark girl's fate, or about other disgusting things Edric wished he hadn't overheard. Dornishmen were less sensible to some japes that others thought would be crossing three lines, but this was just being cruel for the sake of it.

Thankfully, Margaery Tyrell seemed like a wonderful lady, made to be queen. He even saw that she had managed to soothe the boy-king's temper somewhat, which the boy had difficulties in controlling. It was then that he realized it was hard to blame Quentyn for not wanting to even approach the boy.

Quickly running down the halls, Edric could see that he wasn't the only one late for the wedding ceremony.

"Hello, Ned." Prince Quentyn nodded. "You know the exit is the other way, right?"

"Oh." Edric suddenly opened his eyes in disbelief, glancing behind him for a second. "I didn't…"

"Well, now you know." Nymeria Sand replied with a small grin. "You look good, Dayne."

"Erm…you too, my lady." Edric blushed.

Indeed, both prince Quentyn and lady Nymeria were clad in colors befitting a prince and a princess. Of course, prince Quentyn represented his house well. His outfit was one of gold, red, and orange, with a long-sleeved orange shirt decorated with the arms of House Martell and a variety of other decorations in the Rhoynar style, with a short-sleeved red vest on top, with spear-like patterns on the sides and sun-shaped buttons.

His pants were yellow-gold, while he wore an orange belt on which were two ceremonial daggers in golden hilts with several sapphires embedded, and a small ceremonial sword on his right side, also vividly decorated with a golden pommel representing snakes lacing around two adjacent suns.

Unlike Edric, though, Quentyn did not wear any jewellery of any sort, preferring to just have his wavy hair combed towards his left side, opposite his scar.

Lady Nymeria was quite the opposite. Clad in jewels of all kinds, with two rings, diamond earrings, a golden head chain with a large golden ruby in the centre, two golden snake-shaped bracelets on either of her arms and a few jewels interlaced with her beautifully and intricately done braid which ran almost down to her bosom.

As for her dress, she had an interesting choice: a short-sleeved lilac dress with golden embroidery covering the upper part from her shoulders to her breasts, with snakes sliding around several spears, joining a sun at the middle. 

As her robe descended, Edric could see that it became sheer towards the bottom, revealing her legs which also had golden bracelets around them, and several straps around her thighs, from which were attached several blades, although he couldn't tell if they were ceremonial or actual ones. One thing was for sure, they were also richly decorated.

Her nails were also painted gold, while her full lips were almost painted wine-red.

The couple was as radiant as the burning sun of Dorne, which was probably the intention.

"Something wrong, Ned?" Quentyn asked.

"No, no…" Edric shook his head. "Just…never seen either of you like this. You really look amazing."

Quentyn almost blushed while Nymeria just sent him a sly smile.

"Any reason for the tardiness, Dayne?" Lady Nymeria asked as she placed herself between the prince and he, almost guiding their steps through the keep towards the courtyard below.

"I couldn't sleep." Edric shamefully admitted. "It's my first wedding, let alone royal wedding! And I've been under pressure because of my standing as Lord of Starfall…"

"It's going to be fine." Quentyn tapped him on the shoulder.

"I take it you also woke up late?" Edric asked.

"Uh, actually…" Quentyn blushed slightly. "I think we woke up on time."

Lady Nymeria's lips curved into a smile.

"Yes." She nodded. "Breakfast was a little long, though."

"Breakfast?" Edric's eyes widened. "With seventy-seven courses coming for the royal feast?"

"It was just a little drink." Lady Nymeria waved him off. "If anything, it made me hungrier."

Her eyes trailed to Quentyn, who for himself, seemed to be greatly uncomfortable. It seemed Lady Nymeria was taking small pleasure in torturing her cousin, but what for? Breakfast was breakfast if they wanted a little drink before going to the Sept of Baelor…Edric would have done the same if he had anything in his rooms!

It's then that Edric suddenly noticed movement in Quentyn's right vest pocket.

"Is that…" his eyes widened.

"Oh, yes." Quentyn nervously laughed. "Achilles comes and goes as he pleases, although he's a little shy at the moment. But still, he'll be attending the wedding."

"Are you sure pets are allowed?" Edric asked.

"The boy-king has his dogs…" Lady Nymeria scowled.

Edric didn't bother pushing the issue further, and the three of them managed to reach the courtyard, where a number of other Dornishmen were waiting for them.

"Nephew, daughter, lord Dayne!" Prince Oberyn taunted with a smile. "We didn't know you would be late of all people!"

"A small misunderstanding, uncle." Prince Quentyn replied. "But we are here."

"Bah." Myles Manwoody scoffed, atop his horse. "Dornish customs are such that arriving on time to an event is an exceptional occurrence. I doubt it will be an issue."

"This isn't Dorne." Tremond Gargalen quickly pointed out.

"If you two could stop arguing, we'd already be on our way!" Perros Blackmont and his brisk attitude countered.

The two older lords huffed and led their sand steeds forward, urging them towards the Sept of Baelor, following the royal convoy heading straight there.

On the way, he couldn't help but notice Cletus' absence.

"Where is Cletus?" he asked Quentyn, rushing to his side.

"He was with Alla again." Quentyn shrugged. "He will join us later."

Edric thought no more of it and tried keeping his mind on making sure his horse didn't run over one of the poor souls that had come to witness the convoy.

It was a grandiose ceremony, apparently. The massive sept was packed with every single lord of the Reach and the Westerlands, it seemed. All the free Lannisters were there: Lord Tywin, Lord Kevan, and his son Ser Lancel, who was, if rumors were to be believed, in the running for Lady Sansa Stark's hand, but also the Queen mother herself, Cersei Lannister!

The Queen looked like she had seen better days. She was indeed with her family, but her face was pale, almost sickly, and her rich robes paled in comparison to that of her father and uncle. Not to mention that she was flanked by armed guards in red, who she eyed with a mixture of fear and contempt.

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