"These grow on trees?" Telen laughed as Ylsa looked to her incredulously, quickly eating another fig, looking not at all like the refined lady she tried so desperately to be and more like a child gobbling candy.
"It's just fruit; do you not have figs in the North?" Ylsa shook her head.
"Not this kind of fruit; we have lemons in the Crownlands and the Reach, and apples all over, but I've never had a fruit like this! It's like sweets!"
"All food from Dorne is a treat, My Lady," Ellanna said, stretching the clean sheets over Ylsa's bed, rolling her eyes at Telen, who was yet again shirking her regular duties. "If you think figs are good, you should try the actual sweets."
"My mouth wouldn't be able to handle it," Ylsa said, eyeing the last fig in the bowl Telen had brought for them to eat. The other noticed her, smirking.
"You can have it, I'm not going to fight you over it! If you want more we can call for a servant to bring us more, you know."
"YOU are the servant we would call, Telen!" Ellanna said, but was hushed by the younger handmaiden.
"Oh, I shouldn't…they're so sweet, I shouldn't eat too many or I'll lose my figure…" Ylsa pursed her lips, flashbacks of her stepmother berating her any time Ylsa ate anything, telling her she'd get fat and ugly if she 'kept eating like one of the hogs.' Even though Ylsa was far from either of those things, she couldn't help but bid her awful stepmother's warning. Telen scoffed at this though, picking the fig up and handing it to Ylsa.
"You're thin as a rail, I worry a stiff breeze will blow you away! Besides, you need to put some weight on, Doran likes a little something to grab-"
"Telen!" Ellanna whapped the younger woman on the back of the head, but in a joking sort of way, smiling and shaking her head. "How would you even know if that were true or not?" But Ylsa had already gone a little white.
"He's never had a thing for waifs before! Mellario was a substantial woman!" Telen dodged the next smack, grinning impishly.
"Mellario was thin before she had Trystane, and even after, it was only her hips that were wide!"
"That's what I'm saying!" Telen poked at Ylsa's side. "You have no squish, what will Doran hold onto when he-"
"Oh, that's enough!" Ellanna cut Telen off once and for all when she saw how nervous poor Ylsa looked, swatting at Telen, getting her to stand and go off to finally finish her chores. "That's enough talk about that."
"Should I, though?" Ylsa finally spoke up, looking up at Ellanna. "Am I too skinny? Father always said a man would be happier with a slim wife, but that was in the Westerlands, do the Dornish not like slim?" Ellanna made a sort of pitying face, sitting down beside Ylsa.
"Dornishmen like women, period. Whatever you are, there's someone who wants that."
"But I don't have to marry someone," Ylsa countered, "I have to marry Doran. …If he prefers something else I could try to be that?" She was so earnest, Ellanna almost couldn't keep a straight face; she was so much sweeter than your average Dornish woman. So much more impressionable too. Ellanna was secretly glad her own daughter was more spirited than Ylsa.
"Doran would not want you to change how you are for him. He likes…. Authenticity. He likes things just the way they are." She nodded, accentuating the point, before standing. "Don't worry so much, My Lady. If he didn't like you, you wouldn't be here, would you?"
"I suppose not…." Ylsa nodded, a bit to herself and a bit to Ellanna. She knew Telen was just trying to shock her; her youngest handmaiden DID like to try and throw Ylsa off guard with shocking comments or actions. Still though. It was a worry in the back of her mind; she didn't want to be some burden that Doran had to put up with.
"Try not to take Telen so seriously, Lady Ylsa."
"I try not to," she replied playfully, as Telen stuck her tongue out. "….I'm going for a little walk, I think."
"Do you want one of us to go with you?" Ellanna asked, but Ylsa just shook her head. "Are you sure? Would you rather Areo go with you?"
"No, I'm just going down to see some of the flowers, I'll be fine." The two Dornish women glanced at each other, but Ellanna eventually just shrugged, nodding. "Alright. Doran has requested you supper with him in his quarters this evening, but he'll probably send a servant for you before you return. And remember, you're always in shouting distance of a guard."
"I know. I'll see the two of you a little later." Standing and slipping her silken shoes on, as well as snagging that last fig, she skittered out of her quarters, shutting the door behind her.
"My Lady," Areo greeted, as she slipped from her room.
"I'm just going to the gardens this time," she said lightheartedly, smiling a bit. "I've learned my lesson with trying to sneak out." Areo returned her smile kindly, dipping his head slightly.
"I know you have, Lady Ylsa." Waving, she made her way through the open air corridors, sighing contentedly in the late afternoon breeze, her hair fluttering loose by her shoulders and the mint green crepe fabric of her dress swaying with each step. The sun was still high in the sky despite the hour, but the crickets were just beginning to play their evening orchestra, with the occasional cicada buzzing by. Making her way to the open air gardens, she stepped into the merciful shade of the overhead trellises, admiring the way the flowering vines interwove above her head. The garden at the Palace in Sunspear was nothing compared to the intricate maze created here at the Water Gardens.
Taking a bite of the fig, leisurely strolling through the high hedges, she rounded a corner. But in a flurry and clatter of armor and a tangle of fabric, she dropped the fruit and tried to back away with the person she'd just collided with, but found that whomever this person was had stepped on the hem of her dress as they'd bumped into one another, and with a tear, Ylsa went tumbling backwards. She let out a little squeak, fully expecting to hit the ground and go sprawling, but before she had the chance, the person whom had knocked her down caught her by the wrist. Yanking her back up, she once again collided with him, but this time he was prepared, and caught her against his chest.
"My Lady! Are you alright?" He asked, breathless from surprise and the fluster of the collision, though at the very edge of his voice was a small, incredulous laugh. Looking up then, Ylsa blinked a few times, processing who this was. When it finally hit her, she yanked her wrist out of his grasp, stepping away.
"You!" she said, more surprised than offended, really, but still a little offended. It was the boy from yesterday; one of them, anyway. The one with curly hair, who'd appeared genuinely sorry for he and his friend's actions, but still! "You're the soldier from yesterday!" At being recognized, he seemed a bit bashful, but still tried to keep a smile up.
"Ah….yes. Jerris Pallor, My Lady." Bowing slightly in respect, he dipped his head, though his dark eyes soon re-met with Ylsa's. Ylsa was not smiling though. She wasn't exactly scowling; she wasn't there yet, but it was probably as close to a scowl as she could muster.
"I'm fuller clothed this time, sorry to tell you," she said, pursing her lips. "…Where's your friend? Hiding around the next corner?"
"Ahaha….no. We've had our shifts….rearranged so we don't guard with one another anymore, My Lady." Ylsa sniffed at that, happy to hear it.
"….Good." Smoothing out her dress then, looking down at the tear in the hem and pouting. Jerris looked down then too, realizing her dress was ripped.
"Oh! My Lady, my apologies!"
"Maybe next time to stalk me in the gardens you should keep a larger distance so you don't ruin the expensive clothes Doran has gifted me…." Ylsa really did feel more upset that the gift Doran had given her was ripped; Ylsa was a pragmatic girl, she didn't care if her clothes were scuffed or repaired back in the Westerlands, but this was a dress Doran had given her, and looked expensive at that. She was upset that something he'd given her was damaged.
"I wasn't!" Jerris shook his head, looking a bit worried. "I wasn't stalking you, I was just doing my rounds, I swear!"
"Hmph. ….I suppose then you'd like me to thank you for keeping me from falling then?" She felt a little rebellious to this boy, not wanting to properly thank him, or even properly look him in the eye. But Jerris just shook his head.
"It was my pleasure, Lady Ylsa." Glancing at him quickly, she still pouted.
"…You made me drop my fig." It sounded so bratty and childish coming out in that tone, but at this point Ylsa really just needed something to be mad at him over. She was going to stay sore at him for a while. But Jerris brightened up at this, beckoning her to follow him as he turned and made his way down a hedged corridor in the garden.
"Follow me, My Lady, I'll remedy that." Ylsa lagged behind him a bit, before tuttering after him, curious but still feeling defiant. He led her around another bend, and out into a little opening where a few bent trees grew in the middle of a small clearing. From their branches hung fat, ripe figs. Motioning up to the branches, he looked back at her, smiling kindly. His dark caramel skin still somehow managed to carry a rosy tint to his boyish features. "Problem solved!"
"…You're very lucky, Jerris the soldier," she said, eyeing him a moment longer, before striding past him and trying to reach up to pluck a few out of the branches. She couldn't quite reach, her fingers just barely skimming the bottom of one of the fruits, but before she could turn back and ask for help, she was suddenly hoisted up, jerking up into the air as Jerri picked her up by her knees, setting on his shoulder. "Hey! Be careful!" she gasped, pitching backward from her perch on his shoulder slightly, but was steadied as he reached up, stabilizing her with a hand on her lower back. Grabbing onto his head with one hand for extra stability, she got close to a scowl gain as she looked down at him.
"Let me help, Lady Ylsa," he said, smiling pleasantly up at her, and she had to look away, a little sour that he was making it hard to stay mad at him. Plucking a fair few figs from the branches (she was up here, might as well take advantage of it) and placed them in a cradle in her skirts, she patted the top of Jerris head when she was finished.
"Alright, you can put me down….don't drop me!" Jerris laughed at this, carefully taking her off his shoulder and setting her on her feet, just smiling kindly as she pouted. She glanced at him quickly, taking one of the figs and handing it to him. "Here. As payment."
"A fair wage," he said, accepting it, taking a bite. Ylsa shot him an amused look, before rolling her eyes.
"Haven't you got any handmaidens to spy on or annoy?" she asked.
"I'm on the straight and narrow now, My Lady, I swear it."
"Hmm. We'll see about that." It was when Ylsa finally let her guard down at smiled genuinely at the soldier that they were interrupted, by a servant girl, who bore Ylsa's invitation to dinner. "Good timing I suppose," she said, nodding to the girl, "I have dessert here, so I may as well have some dinner."
"Do you know the way, My Lady?" Jerris asked, but Ylsa just nodded.
"Yes. ….Thank you." The two of them exchanged a small look, before Ylsa turned, and made her way out of the clearing. Jerris watched her go until he could no longer see her through the hedge.
"Ylsa." Doran smiled warmly as Ylsa was let into his quarters. The sitting room was already laid out with rich-smelling foods, and as Ylsa carried in her skirtfull of figs, she felt rather silly, but Doran's handmaidens took them and set them in a bowl on the low table none the less. Ylsa was offered a seat opposite Doran by one of the handmaidens, but Doran shook his head. "If it's not offensive to you, my Lady, I'd rather you sit beside me." Doran himself was seated on a long couch, and he patted beside him. Ylsa hesitated a moment, but nodded quickly, her cheeks going slightly pink as she obliged, sitting down, though not too close, beside her intended.
"Thank you for inviting me to supper," she said, bowing her head slightly, but Doran only chuckled, taking a sip from his chalice as a similar one was poured with wine for Ylsa.
"I hope we will be dining like this every day soon," he said, watching her take small sips of the sweet wine, smiling in amusement at the tiny face of disgust she tried to hide. "You know, Dorne is renowned for it's wine." Ylsa looked up, fixing her expression to not show her disdain for the deep red liquid.
"Oh?" she asked, forcing another sip down, completely unused to drinking wine; her father had never let her before.
"But wine is not for everyone. If you don't like it, you only need to say as much."
"It's…..distinct." Ylsa tried to remain tactful, but as Doran raised his eyebrows slowly at that comment, she couldn't help but laugh, hiding it behind her hand, looking away. "Alright it's pretty bad….I'm sorry!"
"Don't be sorry, Ylsa," Reaching out and taking her hand away from her mouth, unsheilding that smile she tried to hide every time she was amused, he didn't let go of that hand immediately. "As I have said, I want you to tell me any time anything is to your displeasure, and it will be gone."
"Maybe wine is like coffee," Ylsa countered, referring to the bitter morning drink she was slowly growing accustomed to. "The more you drink it, the better it becomes." Doran smiled at this, leaning back.
"You're a wise girl," he observed, calling for a servant to replace Ylsa's chalice with one of water instead.
"I only know what others tell me," she said, looking away bashfully at the compliment.
"…Speaking of what others tell me." Doran straightened slightly, looking slightly more serious. "Areo says there was some trouble by the pools yesterday?" Ylsa just nodded, shrugging slightly.
"Ah…yes, but he took care of it. Just…a few soldiers were spying…"
"I hope you know they were punished accordingly. I won't tolerate that sort of mistreatment from you or any guest of House Martell."
"I know! I spoke with one again today, Jerris Pallor. He ran into me, actually….quite literally." Doran looked a bit surprised at this news, looking down at the torn hem of Ylsa's dress when she pointed at it.
"You did? Areo told them to keep their distance-"
"I was out walking in the gardens, and we both turned a corner and bumped into one another. I thought he was spying on me again but he said he was just on his rounds. I believe him…..after a little hesitation." Ylsa smiled at that, to reassure Doran that it was alright, but the other looked away, a thoughtful look crossing his features. His stormy green eyes looked far away. "…It's alright, Prince Doran, I don't hold a grudge. He did apologize after all."
"Yes….I suppose if you're alright with it, then, that's all that matters." Bringing himself back down to Earth, he turned a kindly smile back to Ylsa, finally letting go of her hand. She'd pretty much forgotten he was still holding it; it'd felt nice. "Do tell me if you find yourself running into him in odd places, I'll have Areo keep a watch on him as well."
"I think he's really sorry. He seems nice enough." She shrugged again. "I won't stay mad." Doran smiled at her at this.
"You're sweeter than anyone deserves, Lady Ylsa."