Once the door was shut behind him, a solid slab of wood between him and his little bird and keeping them apart, Sandor felt his separation from her acutely. He could only imagine what would happen to her now, as the septon and septa and silent sister worked to ensure that Sansa Stark was in fact still a maid.

You damn well can't imagine what they'll do to her, Sandor told himself. And he knew that he didn't want to imagine it, either - not when the very idea of her having to prove such a thing at all made him clench his fists and jaw in anger, made him want to break down that door and whisk her away from here, to take her to a place where she would never again be hurt or humiliated.

He began to pace back and forth in the passageway, attempting to ignore the fact that he had been relegated to about the same status as Ser Willem. The young knight was waiting in the passage as well, which in Sandor's opinion was nothing short of stupid. Surely Ser Willem understood that there wasn't anything here for him - surely he didn't think that Sansa still needed him? If she ever did, Sandor mused, his lip curling automatically at the realization that any use Ser Willem had once had was long expired. So why did he stick around? Was it due to some misguided sense of loyalty...or could it be that Ser Willem had his own agenda? The little bird swore that the knight had not touched her or spoken to her in any sort of questionable manner since kissing her that night just after they had arrived at the Water Gardens, and Sandor knew Sansa well enough to know that she was telling the truth...but as she had spurned Ser Willem's advance, Sandor could not come to terms with why the young man had yet to return to Wyl.

"I see you've been relegated to the same status as myself," the handsome knight suddenly said.

Sandor turned and glared at Ser Willem. The other man met his gaze without flinching, knowing that there was nothing Sandor could do to him just now - not in this passage in the middle of the Martell stronghold. "Bugger off," Sandor eventually mumbled, turning his back on Ser Willem and beginning to pace back and forth again.

"I just think it's worth noting that there will be times when you won't be allowed to stay by her side," the knight pointed out.

His words called Sandor to stop in his tracks yet again. "And I think it's worth noting that that's none of your fucking business." I swear by the Seven, if he doesn't shut his mouth...

But Ser Willem didn't speak again, and Sandor went back to his pacing. Though not more than half an hour could have passed, it seemed to him that it was much, much longer than that before the door finally opened and the septon gestured for Sandor to re-enter. The religious man was kindly looking enough, Sandor supposed, but when Ser Willem tried to follow Sandor into the room the septon merely shook his head. It was everything Sandor could do to keep himself from giving the young knight a smug smile - but in the back of his mind a little voice insisted that Sansa wouldn't want him to gloat. Well aren't you just her dog, through and through, Sandor thought, half berating himself and half amused at the idea that he was so thoroughly attached to her as to worry what she would think of his actions.

The septon closed the door behind himself, leaving Ser Willem on the other side of it. "You may fetch Prince Doran," he ordered the septa, who inclined her head in obeisance and left the chamber through the opposite door. Sandor turned in a circle, desperately seeking Sansa, wanting to know that she was all right. He finally spotted her sitting stiffly upright in a sumptuously upholstered chair against the far left wall of the room, and rushed to be by her side. Though her face was pale and her smile weak, when he crouched down and looked into her eyes he saw nothing in them to convince him that things had gone badly.

"You're - " he began, but the little bird reached out and gently placed her hand over his to keep him from saying any more.

"I'm fine," she murmured, "and we should be able to leave quite soon, so long as a ship is ready for us."

Sandor drew himself to his full height again and stood next to his little bird while they waited for Doran Martell to return. Several long minutes passed before the Prince of Dorne in his wheeled chair was pushed into the room by the big, quiet guard, but once the Prince was settled he smiled grimly at Sansa.

"Not that I doubted your word, Lady Sansa, but nonetheless I am relieved to hear that you truly are still a maid. I will dictate a letter for my maester to send to the High Septon this very afternoon - once I am certain that you and your sworn shield have boarded the boat I've had prepared for you and are well away from Sunspear, that is. The only person other than myself who knows where you are to go is the captain of that ship - I insisted that he not even inform his crew of your destination until you were well out at sea, and so that is when you will find out about it as well. I wish that I could handle this some other way, but until you have left Sunspear...well, the fewer people who know where you are going, the better."

"I understand," Sansa nodded, but it took every bit of self control that Sandor possessed to not ask what in the seven hells she was thinking. They were supposedly being sent to Essos, but they wouldn't know of their exact destination until they were far out to sea? What kind of an arrangement was that?

And what if the Prince actually intends to send us right back to King's Landing?

Could this entire process of 'helping' Sansa annul her marriage actually be a ruse?

"As you will very likely soon be an unwed young lady of some standing, however, I cannot send you and Sandor Clegane here along on your own. The captain and men of this ship certainly would not suffice in keeping rumors at bay, should anyone hear of your situation...and though Ser Willem expressed interest in continuing to attend to you, Lady Sansa, I fear that it is past time he returned home to Wyl...unless of course you would insist that he continue to remain by your side."

"No, no, of course not," Sansa replied - almost too quickly, in Sandor's opinion. "Sandor is more than capable of protecting me on his own," she continued, slower this time. "And I do not want to keep Ser Willem away from his Lord any longer than I already have."

Doran Martell glanced at Sandor the same way he had several times earlier before saying, "Just as I expected. Besides, it is better for me to send another woman with you, and due to recent circumstances it seems that I am in abundance of women whom I need to send away from Sunspear. Of course...if I am to send you away with someone from my household, it must also be someone whom I trust...and there are unfortunately very few people who come to mind, just now." He heaved yet another sigh. "Thankfully, there is at least one woman in that select group, though some would deem her not worthy of being your companion. I have already informed her of the barest details of your situation, and though she has no true desire to leave Dorne, she has agreed to do so out of the kindness of her heart and her love for me." He paused and cocked his head as if remembering a specific conversation with this woman. "Admittedly, I think that she is quite curious about you, and that curiosity may have helped sway her as well."

Sandor's brows drew together as he tried to imagine who the Prince of Dorne could be speaking of. He insists on our having to leave, forces a female companion on the little bird, and admits that this woman is not worthy of being in Sansa Stark's presence?

Was there no end to the strange ways of this House?