Chương 89: GOT : Chapter 89
( Edric POV )
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.
...
Strange, Edric thought.
He was put in the third row, along with all the Dornishmen save prince Oberyn, who was saved a seat in the second row.
True to his word, Cletus did join them later, babbling a couple of excuses before taking his place alongside Edric, who was himself placed alongside Quentyn.
The rest of the ceremony went by with astonishing quickness. Edric didn't see much of it, mostly because of the insanely tall man standing in front of him, a westerlander knight, by all accounts., but he did catch glimpses.
He glimpsed the Queen for a brief moment, as he did the king. He heard the mumbling of the high septon, and only knew at what point of the ceremony they were when King Joffrey almost yelled "With this kiss, I pledge my love!"
Those were the only comprehensible words he understood. There was applause, a lot of movement, and the white cloaks of the kingsguard rushing past him. He knew it was over, then, and the party made their way back outside and the stinking air of the capital.
"Can't wait to be back to the Keep." Quentyn sighed. "This took hours."
"Northerners aren't the most expeditive, especially when it comes to royal weddings." Cletus sighed. "Even at Yronwood, they're shorter than this."
"Exceptional circumstances coupled to the fact that no one gives a shit about this mummer's show…" Jynessa Blackmont, clad in her yellow dress, let out heartily.
That earned a small laugh from everyone.
Of course, it wasn't completely over. There still were hundreds of people waiting to offer their congratulations to the newlyweds. Thankfully, Quentyn clasped him on the shoulder and whispered.
"If you don't want to, you're not obligated to. I can just as well go and present them in your name…"
"T…thank you." Edric nodded back.
Quentyn winked at him and stood in line, leaving Edric to wait with a couple of Dornishmen. Thankfully, the new king's patience was fickle, and everyone soon saddled back up to the castle, where Edric hoped there would finally be a moment's respite.
To his surprise, there were a few moments! Guests were allowed back to their rooms to bring a change of clothes if they so wished, and Edric took this opportunity to take a quick nap. Quentyn came back to pick him up along with his cousin and two other Dornishmen: Arron Qorgyle, Gulian's brother, and Samwell Vaith, Daeron Vaith's brother.
Both quickly left, though, after having a quick discussion with Quentyn.
The three of them then made their way outside, and into the castle gardens.
"Wasn't the feast supposed to take place in the throne room?" Edric asked.
"Apparently the Tyrells preferred it to be outside, so that the keep may not be overcrowded, and that the fresh air from the sea brings some much-needed refreshment." Quentyn replied.
"Finally, a good idea." The sand snake chuckled.
"There had to be one eventually…" Quentyn started, before being startled. "Your grace!"
There, in front of the three of them, stood Margaery Tyrell, or rather, Margaery Baratheon. She was wearing ivory silk and Myrish lace. Her dress was richly decorated with floral patterns strewn with pearls, with a hundred golden roses rising on her sleeves and skirts. She also wore a simple circlet for a crown, and had jewels adorning her entire body.
"Prince Quentyn." She nodded back.
"Shouldn't you be…with your husband?" he asked.
"Oh, my husband is busy at the moment, I had hoped to take a moment of your time before the feast starts." The new Queen replied.
"Of course." Quentyn nodded back before introducing both Edric and Lady Nymeria. "This is Lady Nymeria Sand, my cousin, and Lord Edric Dayne, of Starfall."
"A pleasure to meet you both." Queen Margaery smiled widely. "I fear I have not had time to meet all of you. The last couple days have been quite the mess."
She extended her hand forward. Edric quickly understood and bowed to kiss it. The sand snake, on the other hand, was doing her best not to frown, but she wasn't smiling, either.
"The Queen mother isn't at the feast?" Quentyn asked, having noticed that the Lannister table was devoid of her presence.
"I'm afraid Queen dowager Cersei has been taken ill." Queen Margaery feigned sadness at that.
Lady Nymeria scoffed while Edric just nodded in understanding.
"The Dornish host seems to be complete, but a few members are missing?" Queen Margaery then asked.
"Ser Gerris took his leave a few days ago." Quentyn nodded. "His wife has been sick, and he worries for her. I have ordered him to Sunspear with a small guard."
"Oh." The Queen looked slightly surprised. "Do send him my wishes, then."
"I shan't forget." Quentyn nodded back.
"And…" the Tyrell queen turned to Edric next. "Lord Dayne, is that it?"
"Yes, your grace." Edric bowed.
The queen turned to Quentyn and back to him.
"You've been sending us reinforcements, I hear?" she asked.
"Your grace?" Edric feigned ignorance.
"Eight thousand men in the Prince's Pass…" the Queen sighed.
"I've given no such order." Edric did his best not to burst out laughing.
"I've had you there, didn't I?" Quentyn smiled slightly, while Lady Nymeria was on the verge of laughing.
"Yes." Queen Margaery nodded painfully. "Can't believe I fell for this trick."
"You have to admit it was smart." Quentyn countered.
"When did you suspect?" Queen Margaery avoided.
"Since the first." Lady Nymeria scoffed. "Reachers and Dornishmen don't get along."
"I hear Reacher ladies have a soft spot for Dornishmen." The Tyrell queen turned to Edric, who turned bright red.
That part, at least, was true. But Edric still wasn't sure because he was just handsome, he was a Dornishman or that, in Quentyn's words, he looked as close to a Targaryen as one could be, that both Rowan girls had jumped into his bed at Bitterbridge. He could hardly remember their names, too…Calla and Nelia, was it? Although he forgot which was which…
In any case, this had earned him no favors from lord Rowan, quite the opposite. The old man had claimed that he had dishonored both of them, forgetting that it was his daughters that came to him! Of course, a green boy, Edric was not going to refuse such an offer. But this hardly was the norm for all of Dorne. He knew Cletus had some success with Reacher ladies, lord Caswell's daughter chief of all, but the others just did it out of spite or insult.
"Sorry." The snake spat out. Edric could almost see the venom pouring out of her mouth, and he was prepared to see fangs spitting out at any moment. "Tyrells and Dornishmen don't get along."
The Queen saw that she was pushing her luck, and didn't try to even point out that she and Quentyn were getting along just fine. Edric would have seen Nymeria probably break, then. Thankfully, this did not happen. Instead, Margaery just sighed.
"You cannot blame me for trying." She shook her head.
"I blame you for making my friend believe in something that isn't real." Quentyn's smile turned into a frown, all the while he controlled his pocket by shoving it downwards repeatedly, stopping his frog from jumping out.
"Well." Margaery sighed. "If it's any consolation, Alla volunteered to do it because she thought your friend was, in her words, very pretty."
"Hardly." Quentyn scoffed. "Because you won't have to deal with his broken heart."
"A Tyrell breaking a Dornish heart would be a first…" Nymeria Sand muttered.
Queen Margaery's smile fell slightly but caught herself.
"I must be going. It was a pleasure meeting you both, Lady Sand and Lord Dayne." The Queen put an accent on the sand part, earning another scowl from the sand snake.
"Have a lovely day, your grace." Quentyn nodded. "And good luck in the future."
The Queen spared a sideways glance at him, nodded slightly, and left.
"If she said another word, I'll likely have strangled her." Lady Nymeria seethed, clutching Quentyn's arm in anger.
"You were more patient than I thought." Quentyn acted surprised.
"Very funny, love." She bumped her elbow into his side. "You underestimate me."
"Mhmm." Quentyn retorted. "Like I did when…"
Not wanting to get caught up in a conversation that he obviously knew the inevitable issue of, that is, Edric having to suffer through a kiss that would last a good minute before they eventually acknowledged his existence again, he just scurried away while attempting to find some friendlier companions.
A short conversation with Mors Manwoody on the subject of their duel from the other day, then another with a knight sworn to house Allyrion, probably a cadet branch, there was no shortage of Dornishmen to talk to.
Including his own bannermen! Aunt Allyria had seen to it that house Dayne was well represented: Morgan and Harry Grace, Rhea Dayne, Cyrus Ventou, Halyn Woods and Ynys Izoa were all in attendance.
Of course, Edric did his best to speak with each of them. Ser Morgan Grace was an old man, of almost sixty namedays, while his son was in his thirties, also married. Ser Halyn Woods was as close to a bull as one would get, being almost the same size as Arch, while in comparaison, Ynys Izoa, lady Gwyneth's sister, was shorter than Edric himself.
Cyrus Ventou was a young knight of five-and-twenty namedays, who inherited his father's lands when he fell at the Trident. A young spirit, with long, dark, hair, who was unfortunately not that good with a weapon in hand.
"At least my mind is sharp." Ser Cyrus had shrugged. "It cuts deeper than a blade."
Rhea Dayne was a woman of five-and-thirty namedays, who had come with her husband, Ser Jon Blackmont, a cousin of lady Larra, also present. She had beautiful blonde hair and purple eyes, but she wasn't a Dayne of Starfall, for he bore the sigil of the burning Oak tree with scimitar.
Indeed, the Daynes of the Amethyst had been granted this seat after Ser Gerold Dayne, brother to Lord Davos Dayne, had won a great victory outside Highgarden which allowed the Dornish forces to sack Highgarden and burn the Oakenseat. As thanks, Lord Davos gave his younger brother a keep guarding the Torentine approaches.
Rhea Dayne had good spirit and knew how to defend herself well, the daggers strapped to her waist were proof of this. As for Jon Blackmont, Edric knew better than to cross the man.
Yet, the most splendid surprise was the heir to the Tor, Myria Jordayne. She came up to him in a ravishing golden dress, which was short-sleeved and had a v-neck plunging further than it had any right to be. Similarly to Lady Nymeria's one, it revealed a lot in the bottom, allowing her dark olive skin to shine through, revealing golden jewels underneath.
"Beautiful dress, isn't it?" Myria smiled at him.
Edric wanted to punch himself for staring that long. But it was true that the Jordayne heir was drop-dead gorgeous.
"Don't make such a face." Myria laughed. "You're not the first one to stare languishly."
"I'm sorry, Lady Myria…"
"Don't make excuses, Lord Dayne." She winked. "You know, if it weren't for these prude northerners, I wouldn't have had these embroideries made on the upper half of my dress. They're quite pretty, of course, but they add a lot of weight."
And reveal less. Edric stopped himself from adding. He knew the propensity of Salty Dornishwomen to wear dresses bordering on the scandalous for Dornish standards, so he could hardly imagine the reactions here in King's Landing.
"Call me Ned." Edric urged her. "I don't really feel like a lord, if I'm honest."
"Nonsense, you're one just by looking at you." Myria smiled. "You look like a Targaryen prince!"
"You're too kind, my lady." Edric blushed.
"Myria between us, Ned."
"Myria." Edric nodded. "Enjoying the festivities?"
"Not as much as I'd like to." She confessed. "The city's smell is horrendous, most of the guests are boring, and we've been stuck here doing nothing for so long, I can't even remember why we're supposed to be here!"
"That makes two of us." Edric scoffed.
"I thought so." Myria frowned. "The other men and women say that we're here because of Prince Doran, and that prince Quentyn was very reluctant to come."
"You're well informed."
"He told me himself." Myria shrugged. "Nevertheless, I think changes are coming."
"I hope so too." Edric nodded. "Are you at least enjoying the wedding?"
"A bit dull for my tastes but at least the food is somewhat decent. Wish they had some proper wine instead of this Reacher piss, though."
"I've got wine in my rooms. Pure Torentine gold!" Edric laughed. "My aunt Allyria sent some to me for my nameday. I've kept it in my rooms because it's a fine vintage."
"Really?" Myria bit her lip. "Mind if I join you for a sip afterward?"
"I'd be delighted." Edric nodded back.
Myria smirked and left him for the Dornish table, likely seeing that the first courses were being served.
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