The following month passed quickly enough. The Sea Dragon Troupe gave a show of its brand new play, Antony and Cleopatra. I was, of course, almost done with another work, this time it was a comedy, and one I had lifted straight off from Shakespeare. I might have to change the name though, as its original name was a cultural reference that is lost to Braavos, or anyone in Planetos to be fair.
I was, of course, invited to attend a showing of Culloden after all, the Sealord and Maelio were old friends. What puzzled me was the choice of play.
"Hijo De Puta" I muttered as I saw just who was sitting by the Sealord. The man was tall and slender, with tanned skin and a sharp nose. He had black hair and black eyes, and the only way he could look more Dornish was if he had come straight out of a dune while holding a snake on each hand.
Of course Oberyn Martell would be here. I was fairly sure that the Sealord was... aware of where Viserys and Daenerys were, which meant that the Dornish might also know. After all, it had been a few months ago when this same man had, in behalf of his brother, signed a betrothal between Viserys and one Arianne Martell.
"Prince Oberyn" I greeted him with a bow, "I hope you enjoy this play." I let out as I stood back up, he seemed very amused, and I couldn't help but wonder if that daft idiot Darry had somehow convinced the rest of the city that I actually cared about who sat in that damn spiky edgelord Throne of Westeros.
"So you are the mind behind these tales," He said, still with a smirk that was starting to get me uncomfortable.
"I am, yes, my name is Tirso de Corneil." A simple nom de plume that I had adopted so long ago that it was as if it were my real name. "And as I said, I hope you enjoy this."
This must have been why the Sealord had the Troupe playing Culloden instead of one of the more successful plays. Sure, it had been pretty popular, but it was far from the most requested play... It was, however, one that dealt with an exiled prince rallying an army to reconquer his father's throne, and failing.
I had also managed to have a protagonist and antagonist instead of a hero and a villain, with heroic and villainous traits on both Bonnie Prince Charlie and George II, which made it... not entirely appreciated by the remaining Aerys or Rhaegar loyalists that had seen it. I can swear that I saw a blue-haired man scowl through the entire thing when it first came out.
A certain man who's hair had been dyed blue, a stormlander that should or should not have been dead.
"I have heard," The Prince said as the Troupe prepared, "That your works come from legends you heard in the ports you have visited... But the names of the lands in them are names I have never heard of, and I have traveled quite some ways." He seemed curious, which was not something that comforted me.
"Well, that is a secret that I intend to take to my grave, Your Highness."
He laughed, and then the play started.
Culloden was in many ways a Tragedy.
And despite the looming presence of the Young Pretender and the King, the real protagonists were three men, a Scotsman fighting for the Stuarts, an Englishman fighting for the King, and a woman from the border in the second and third acts.
As it came to an end, three hours later, the Prince eyed me, and I could not quite understand what was on his mind.
"Perhaps you and your siblings would not mind dining with me," It was clear from the expression on the Sealord's face that he... preferred such a thing to happen. Which was worrying.
"I would not be opposed to it." I told him after a few seconds. "I believe you intend to speak of things that pertain to them."
He did not need to say a word, and that only made me worry even more.