Chương 294: Chapter 295: Pressure
"No, Princess Arianne," Lord Anders Yronwood responded stiffly. "I came to Sunspear as a prisoner of Caesar. As for why I became a prisoner, you must know very well."
Arianne opened her mouth but had no words to offer in response.
She was all too aware that the coronation ceremony on Bloodstone Isle was meant to be a trap—a deadly scheme laid by House Martell to assassinate Caesar.
But Caesar had not only survived, he had also turned the tables, capturing the Dornish nobles instead.
If the truth were exposed, it would only make House Martell appear dishonorable—and incompetent.
"To plot against an ally and fail, only to be outmaneuvered in return—how foolish," Arianne thought bitterly.
"Princess Arianne," a knight from Lemonwood stepped forward, his voice sharp, "when Prince Doran led our lords to Bloodstone Isle, he declared it was to crown Princess Myrcella. So, tell us—why has it come to this?"
"I heard Prince Doran brought a Faceless Man to assassinate Caesar and failed," another knight from House Allyrion interjected.
"Why would Doran do such a thing? Does he think our Dornish reputation isn't tarnished enough?" added a knight from House Dayne.
One by one, knights from the great Dornish houses voiced their questions and grievances, their frustration boiling over.
Arianne realized with a sinking feeling that she had made a grave mistake.
She should never have summoned Anders in public; she should have spoken with him privately first.
The current situation made it clear that Anders had already conspired with other Dornish families, rallying them to pressure House Martell.
As the voices of dissent grew louder, Arianne could no longer sit still.
She stood abruptly, her voice cutting through the noise:
"Lord Anders, tell me Caesar's terms. What does he want in exchange for releasing our people?"
Her clear voice echoed in the hall, temporarily silencing the crowd.
Anders responded coolly:
"Caesar's condition is to exchange the Stormlands army for the Dornish nobles. If you want the forty-eight Dornish nobles to return safely, Sunspear must first release the Stormlands army currently held in Dorne."
"Forty-eight?" Arianne hesitated. "I remember fifty went to the island. What happened to the other two?"
"Areo Hotah was killed trying to attack Caesar. As for Prince Doran, he is not part of this exchange."
"What do you mean? Caesar doesn't intend to release my father?" Arianne gasped, momentarily forgetting to mourn Areo Hotah, the loyal guard who had been by her side since childhood.
"Caesar said if you want Prince Doran back, you'll have to negotiate separately after this exchange."
"No!" Arianne refused outright. "Unless Caesar releases my father, he will never get his army back!"
Anders smirked and replied with calculated provocation:
"So, to House Martell, the lives of forty-eight Dornish nobles are worth less than Prince Doran alone?"
His words were a dagger aimed at the heart of her authority.
Especially in such a public setting.
Arianne froze, unable to respond.
A knight from House Yronwood stepped forward, his voice accusing:
"Princess Arianne, why did House Martell unilaterally decide to assassinate Caesar? Why was the coronation not carried out as planned? A chance for a three-kingdom alliance—ruined by Doran's actions!"
Before Arianne could answer, another knight shouted:
"Why didn't House Martell inform the other Dornish families about its plans?"
"Yes! This is reckless—putting the lives of our lords at risk without consulting us!"
"House Martell must be held accountable and ensure the safe return of our lords!"
"Enough!" Arianne's face flushed with anger as she shouted above the clamor. "House Martell will take responsibility for its actions! I promise, your lords will be brought back safely!"
Anders pressed further. "So, you agree to Caesar's terms?"
"I demand that Caesar release all the nobles, including my father!" Arianne insisted.
"No." Anders remained firm. "Caesar has made it very clear: forty-eight Dornish nobles for the Stormlands army. That is Storm's End's condition. There is no room for negotiation."
"Lord Anders, whose side are you on?" Arianne demanded, her frustration boiling over.
"I am on Dorne's side," Anders replied coldly. "That is why I am doing everything I can to secure the release of our nobles, while you seem concerned only with Doran's safety."
"I am not—"
"Then why refuse Caesar's terms? He's stated clearly: if you want Doran back, negotiate after this exchange. Right now, I am here for the other Dornish lords. Will you give me an answer—yes or no?"
Arianne wanted to scream no, but she dared not.
The knights of the great Dornish houses were watching her closely.
If her father or uncle were present, they could suppress these voices of dissent. But Arianne knew she lacked their authority.
After two devastating wars, Dorne was already on the brink of collapse. The noble houses harbored resentment toward House Martell.
If the family heads remained trapped in the Stormlands due to another failed Martell scheme, Arianne feared internal strife would erupt in Dorne.
Should she wait until after this exchange to negotiate for her father?
But without the Stormlands army as leverage, what could House Martell offer in return for Prince Doran?
Anders, sensing her hesitation, delivered the final blow:
"If you refuse, Sunspear will have to continue feeding Caesar's twenty thousand troops. I'll return to Storm's End."
"You're going back?" Arianne asked, alarmed.
"Of course," Anders said, his tone dripping with disdain. "At least I still have the honor of a knight. I won't abandon forty-eight Dornish nobles to secure my own freedom."
His words caused another uproar in the hall, with nobles openly criticizing Arianne and House Martell.
As Anders turned to leave, Arianne finally spoke:
"Wait!"
Anders turned back, his expression mocking. "You've agreed?"
Arianne clenched her teeth so hard she felt they might crack.
She had once despised her father's cautiousness, thinking he was too afraid to act decisively.
Now, she understood that taking action required immense courage—and the willingness to bear tremendous responsibility.
She wished more than anything for her father to be here, to offer her advice—any advice. But he was Caesar's prisoner.
After a long silence, Arianne finally said through gritted teeth:
"I agree to Caesar's terms."
---
Storm's End
Upon returning from Sunspear, Anders Yronwood entered the courtyard and addressed Gavin Mander, the steward of Storm's End:
"Where is His Grace?"
"On the tower," Gavin replied, pointing upward. Then he asked, "Did House Martell agree to the exchange?"
"They did," Anders said lightly.
"They didn't insist on including Doran Martell?"
"They tried, of course. But Arianne has no brains and no influence, and this time House Martell is in the wrong. It didn't take much to make her yield."
Gavin chuckled, recalling Samwell's remark about Arianne: "All beauty, no brains."
It seemed fitting.
And it was clear Anders had no intention of letting Doran Martell return to Sunspear anytime soon.
The future of Dorne was about to get interesting.
Suppressing his thoughts, Gavin arranged for Anders to be escorted up the spiral staircase to the tower.
The tower's top was a circular platform, where the winds from the Narrow Sea howled violently, like the fury of a god.
While Storm's End stood immovable against the storm, Anders struggled to remain steady, nearly blown off his feet.
Clutching the wall for support, he looked up and was shocked to see Samwell standing on the iron railing at the edge of the tower.
The wind whipped Samwell's clothes, but he stood unshaken.
In his hand burned a small flame.
The orange-red flame flickered and danced in the fierce wind but showed no sign of extinguishing.
"Your Grace!" Anders shouted over the gale. "House Martell has agreed to the exchange!"
"Good." Samwell did not turn around. "Inform Gavin to gather the Dornish nobles in the council hall. I will join them shortly."
"Including Doran?"
"Of course." Samwell's lips curled into a faint smile. "Since they're all leaving, we should at least bid farewell to Prince Doran and leave him with a little… memento."
Anders nodded thoughtfully. "Understood."
He turned and descended the tower.
Samwell remained at the top, staring at the flame in his palm.
His gaze grew distant.
"R'hllor... What is your truth?"
(End of Chapter)
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