I wonder what she's like, he thought, leaning over the balcony and staring at the sea, what she looks like. And if she likes to play some games or instruments, and if she is wears funny gowns, those huge fur clothes they use a lot where it's very cold, up in the North.
But then he ralised that she wasn't from the North. She was born and raised at King's Landing, in the Crownlands, which were in the South part of Westeros.
Definitely she won't wear a fur coat, he thought.
Not that he really cared about that; he was just trying to keep his mind busy and ignoring all the bad thoughts such as 'What if she doesn't like me?'.
It wasn't that hard after all because he was genuinely curious, and often distracted, so he kept doing the craziest what-iffings about Myrcella's tastes and he never ran out of topics.
Do they play Cyvasse in the Crownlands? he wondered. Nah, they probably don't.. but I could teach her to play it.
"Trystane" someone called him, knocking on the door, "can I come in?"
"Yes"
He didn't had to ask who it was, he recognised his sister's voice.
"Father was looking for you" she said, sitting down on his bed and crossing her legs, "he wanted to remind you that your lovely betrothed will be needing a bigger room for her trunks and mirrors and all of her princess furnishing"
"I'm not giving her my room" huffed Trystane, rolling his eyes, "the one Mother chose is more than fine. Myrcella Baratheon will be our guest, not our Princess"
"She is our Princess" stated Arianne, "she is our King's sister"
"You are our Princess, sweet sister" he replied, shrugging, "the Dornish people like our House better than hers"
"That's something that you should never tell lady Baratheon"
"Why, that's true. If she's going to live here, she'll find out herself"
"Make sure she doesn't" insisted Arianne, "the last thing we want is for the Lannisters to declare war on Dorne"
"Right" Trystane sighed, "well, is that it? Does Father need anything else?"
"Anything else" his sister repeated, wiggling her nose, "all he asked was for you to make room for you future bride, and you refuse to. What else could he ask of you that you will not do?"
"I don't understand why I should give her my room. It's mine"
"There is no such word in marriage" Arianne replied, "ours is more like it"
"That's ridiculous, this has been my bedroom forever" said Trystane, stubborn, "I am willing to share my kingdom with her, why should she ask me to give her my room?"
"She didn't ask, Father did. And it's his kingdom, not yours, you'd better remember it"
"I was just saying" Trystane shrugged again, "I'm not even willing to share it, come to that.."
"You don't want to marry her?" Arianne asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Of course not, I don't even know her" he answered promptly, "I was told to marry Princess Myrcella Baratheon, and I will do it because I must, not because I want to"
"So, you will do it unwillingly"
"I will do it duty-bound"
Arianne stared at him with a weird smile on her face, then she shrugged.
"As long as you do it, Father will be happy" she said.
"Yes, he will" agreed Trystane, sadly.
He wasn't unhappy, he couldn't say he disliked Myrcella since he had never seen her, he simply didn't like the idea of being married to a stranger, or married in general.
She must be felling the same, he thought, she must be scared, or excited, or doubtful, or all of the above.. well, at least there's we've got something in common.
He kept thinking about Myrcella when Arianne left, and when his father went to tell him to bring all of his possessions to another room, and while he tidied his new bedroom up.
The days went by, and he knew and feared that the young princess' arrival was only a few weeks away now. A part of him wished for her ship to sink, or for her uncle Tyrion Lannister to break off the wedding engagement.
On the other hand, he couldn't wait to meet her; he really was curious.