Rosamund

Their voyage at sea had proven to be long and tedious. Each day ended up being practically the exact same as the one before. Rosamund Baratheon would wake up in her quarters feeling miserable with her morning sickness. She would dress herself and use every part of her willpower to appear a proper princess for the crew to remind them what their voyage was for. Each day brought the exact same foods, the same conversations with Ser Arys, Septa Eglantine, and Trystane, trying to find enjoyment in the same books, and rounds of cyvasse that never seemed to change or be any different than the previous ones. It had been so bad that she'd almost been tempted to reveal to Septa Eglantine how she had dishonored herself by bedding Trystane before they had even been married or betrothed, and was with child, so that she might be able to break the monotony and add even the slightest bit of excitement to life.

It had been a little bit thrilling when they were passing Dragonstone- the way it had gotten her heart to beat a little bit quicker as they all tensed over the possibility of an attack by Uncle Stannis and his fleet. But it still had been a relatively quick pass, and once they were out in the open sea, the winds had not proven to be very favorable. According to the captain, it had taken them at least three extra days to make it to Braavos, the greatest of the Free Cities, because of them.

Rosamund liked Braavos- and owing to a storm occurring while they were in the city, they ended up spending nearly a week, waiting for better weather. She found the smells to be strangely pleasant, after years of living in King's Landing, even if it wasn't as sweet as flowers or pretty candle scents. Exploring it had been fun too, though she probably would have liked it better if she had the freedom to explore the city on her own, without a tail of Ser Arys and several of his guards trailing him at all times.

Part of her mistake was that the books she had brought with her from King's Landing were all books she already had read- so she used a good bit of coin to purchase more in the city, ranging from things like history and war, or just old stories. Apparently, there was a much richer tradition in Essos of plays, so she'd been able to buy some texts of scripts by famous playwrights. And she'd satisfied her own curiosities such as with a book about the Red God, R'hllor, which was so prevalent in the Free Cities, one about Braavosi history and its conflicts with the Valyrian freehold, several tomes about Dornish culture and literature, and a book about pregnancy and maternity to help her feel better prepared about what lay ahead of her on her journey. Thankfully, Ser Arys could keep a secret from Septa Eglantine for her, and those had helped her break from some of the constant monotony- though it still hadn't quite proven to be enough.

On the morning of the sixth day in Braavos, they began to sail to Sunspear- and Rosamund had lost track of the days that followed.

It was late morning in the present. She had already eaten and made use of the privy, so now she had gone back to her daily ritual of retreating back to her room and reading until lunch, laying on her back with her bent legs up in the air, resting the book she was reading on her quickly growing stomach. Today she was reading about the book on motherhood, which had already managed to frighten her greatly with how it revealed things like just how commonly mothers died in the birthing bed and its diagrams of the internal anatomy of women. There were many things that had surprised and fascinated her too though, from the way the book spoke of this thing called genetics to just how much of a woman's growth while with child was simply them gaining weight as the body adjusted, which made Rosamund force herself to keep reading the book. It was called, A Mother's Guide, and was written by a woman named Lydia Greensburg, who was amongst the ladies who had studied and graduated at the school in Maidenpool, a school that had been founded by Lady Shiera Seastar nearly a hundred years ago, a school exclusively meant for educating girls and women, to counteract how almost no educational institutions in either Westeros or Essos admitted women. Presently, she was reading a section on determining the sex of a child in the womb.

Contrary to most common fish-wives tales and the grandiose assumptions of parents (particularly men), there has yet to be a well-illustrated way of determining the sex of a child before it is born, barring perhaps the use of magic or a greater advance in science. Through examinations of fetal remains, a child's sex is developed in the womb, but it does not lead to any particularly observable differences, such as; smell, size or shape of the growing stomach, how long the pregnancy takes or any other common rumors and misconceptions. The simple truth is that folk like to find certainty in an unpredictable reality.

When it comes to matters of twins or triplets or just a single child, there is some predictability from what I have seen in my own experience- owing to the fact that in cases of multiples, there seems to be an acceleration in growth and an increase in total growth, which is particularly pronounced in the cases of triplets, rare as they are. The specific cause of multiples still eludes me though, but by utilizing my earlier outlined theory of genetics, it is my hypothesis that at least in instances of non-identical twins, that they are based on two separate genetic combinations. That is unless they might share the same genetic code, but express different attributes, even potentially going as far as sex. Predictions of multiples is a safer bet, but do so at your own risk, especially when considering how changes to a woman's body might affect perceptions of these predictors, which make it hard to predict as well.

Before she could read on- Trystane had walked in. "We're almost there," he announced to her.

Rosamund put her bookmark in and closed the tome before looking up. "To Sunspear?"

He nodded. "The coast is already in view," he said, with a tinge of pride in his voice. "You should come see it."

Once she set the rather heavy book down on her nightstand, she got up and slipped her shoes on. Trystane had warned her that it was hotter in Dorne, so the other thing she'd bought a significant amount of while in Braavos was clothing, even though the city was actually really cold. Today she was wearing a light blue gown that would have been a source of outrage if she'd dared to wear it in the court of King's Landing. The neckline was low, exposing some of her bosom, it didn't have any sleeves, leaving her arms completely bare, and the skirt cut off only a little lower than her knees, displaying her ankles too. Luckily, Septa Eglantine had come to accept this shift in fashion on her part as being part of the culture in this new land she was going to be living in, though the septa clearly still had her reservations.

Rosamund followed closely behind her husband as he led her through the ship's guts- as Ser Arys liked to call it. When they were on the deck, she almost gasped. On the starboard side, there was land in sight.

Very quickly she made her way over to the railing, wanting to study and observe it as much as she could, while Trystane just followed after her. But it didn't take long for her to become mystified by it. She'd sailed before, but never had she seen a coast like this.

There was a sandy beach of course, which felt expected. Dorne was known for its sand after all. But even further inland, it seemed like the sand stretched for miles. No plants or trees, no rivers feeding out into the sea, just desert.

She felt Trystane put a hand on her exposed left shoulder, protectively setting his hand behind her. "What do you think?" he asked, a bit nervously. "Do you like it?"

"I don't know," she admitted. This was only a small taste of Dorne, after all, what she'd gotten to see through her first look. They hadn't even gotten to see Sunspear yet, let alone locations like the Greenblood, Starfall, the Water Gardens or the river Vaith, which she'd heard him talk so much about. What really excited her was the sense of adventure. The last time she'd traveled from King's Landing before this was when father had taken all of them to Winterfell so he could name Lord Eddard Stark as the new Hand of the King.

A silence hung between them for a minute or two, as she waited for some kind of followup from him. But he didn't say anything, and had a shy look on his face. He only gets like that when he's nervous about me, Rosamund remembered.

"You're worried I won't like it here," she said. "You're worried that I'll hate Dorne and you because of it- is that it?"

Trystane did not say anything, but the look on his face told her she was right. He was scared that she would dislike him as a result of her own distaste for Dornish culture.

"I don't think I can hate it," she admitted. Sunspear was going to be her place now, at least until the end of the war, assuming it didn't come to Dorne- and even if the war didn't go on for much longer, she was certain to be stuck there until she had given birth. Her best chance was finding a way to enjoy it, even if it didn't prove to be to her taste. "Even if I don't like Dorne, I won't hate you because of it. As long as you don't give me a reason to."

"Oh," he said, softly. But that was all he said.

Her mind turned to what she had been reading about before he had interrupted her with news that the coast was now in view. "Are you hoping for a son or a daughter?" she decided to ask. After they set off from Braavos, she'd noticed that the slight growth of her belly was starting to become visible- whether it was due to her change in attire or just that it was now beginning to be more pronounced. Nobody had commented on it yet, but the questions would probably come up rather quickly.

The Prince hesitated. "I don't know," he said after a moment.

Rosamund could tell from the look on his face- which seemed slightly guilty that he did have a preference- for them to have a son. A preference that he obviously didn't want to share with her- probably because he felt it would offend her, or because of the culture he himself had been raised in. "I don't mind either way," she said, sighing, "I suppose I would prefer a boy a little bit too. The world is kinder to you boys, than to us girls- even in a place like Dorne." Boys didn't have to deal with moon's blood or pregnancy or childbirth. They got to become fierce knights and warriors, study in great places like the Citadel, rule kingdoms with ease… sometimes she felt a little jealous of that. "If we have a son, I already have a name picked out," she said- thinking back to the conversation they'd had a little while ago about his mother.

"What would you call a son of ours?" Trystane wondered.

"Tyrion," she replied, without any thought. "After my uncle."

There was a ghastly look on his face. She knew exactly what he was thinking. Why would she name a son after the Imp rather than Ser Jaime? But he didn't say anything out loud again.

A part of her was still displeased with her Uncle Tyrion over the nature of her marriage- how she felt like he'd been treating her like a rabble in cyvasse. He had married her off to someone without asking her opinion, used her marriage as part of a game to learn information and shipped her off to a far away land. Of course she knew why he had done it; how important it was to secure an alliance with Dorne, and how she would be safer at Sunspear, and knew deep down that something like this was bound to happen eventually. The destiny of a girl, even one as high as a princess. She still would have much preferred naming a son after the Imp than the Kingslayer though.

"Tyrion has always been kind to me," she explained, "Ser Jaime… he never showed much of anything towards me or my siblings. Even though mother has always disliked Tyrion and loved Ser Jaime with all her heart. He was her twin, yet…" Rosamund figured her mother might be a little bit displeased to learn that she had named her firstborn son after Uncle Tyrion, but it didn't bother her though. "And it's a good name too, wouldn't you agree? Hmm, it sounds a little bit like yours, doesn't it?"

"It's a good name," he finally said, in agreement. But he went back to being silent.

"We still have a little while before we make it to the castle, don't we?" she asked him.

"Yes," he agreed.

Rosamund felt an urge growing inside of her. "Come on," she told him, as she led him away from the rail. "I know just the cure for your worries."

She took him back to her cabin below deck. Despite how dizzy she felt, she managed to push Trystane inside, right into the wall, and then closed and locked the door behind him.

"Rosamund…" he began to protest, but she silenced him.

"Not a word from you," she said, pushing him against the wall, before she started to kiss him. She kissed him until she was out of breath, and when she released him, she could tell he was out of breath too.

Before she could kiss him again though, she felt him put his hands on her waist, and lifted her off the ground, moving her onto the bed.

He started to undress her, removing her gown with little difficulty, leaving her naked on the bed, while he was still fully dressed. As he started to lean over, she sat up. "It's your turn," she whispered, before she began to fumble at his laces.

When at last his clothes fell to the ground, he finally got on top of her, grinning like a fool. "You're pleasuring me," she reminded him, as she took his hands and placed them on her breasts. With her hands over his, she squeezed, and felt him do the same, until she felt the urge to scream.

She felt him enter her, his cock sliding into her wet slit, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, almost trapping him. It felt so good as he moved within her, each time leaving her moaning with delight and pleasure, until he silenced her as she had done to him earlier by putting his lips on hers and kissing, still groping and squeezing her breast even though her hands had long fallen away.

Yes, yes, oh gods, yes, she wanted to cry out, as she must have climaxed. She let her arms fall to the side now, and she unwrapped her legs from around him, though he kept going, still kissing and groping her.

It took a little while longer for him to finally spill his moist seed inside of her.

"Are you satisfied, princess?" He asked.

Rosamund grinned. "Oh yes," she told him, and he started to get off of her. She found herself trying to remember if he had ever made her feel that good before. It seemed to her that was the first time she had ever felt true passion in their love, rather than a sense of duty or driven by something other than pure lust.

For a little bit, she laid still in a state of euphoric bliss. Her loins ached just a little bit, but she liked it. Satisfied might have been the word that Trystane used, but that was how she truly felt just now. In a moment like this, all of her other anxieties, frustrations and worries seemed to dissipate, and Rosamund just felt happy with who she was. Why shouldn't I be able to be happy as a girl?

She was suddenly jolted back to reality by Trystane poking her in the stomach. "You've gotten bigger," he said, with a slight smile on his face. In his dark eyes, she could feel a sense of… pride, it seemed to her, whether it was pride in her, or their child, or something else.

Under a different circumstance, she might have taken offense to it, but she didn't. In truth, she found it to be a sweet comment. "The baby is growing," she said, smiling too. "I can feel it." She couldn't describe the sensation with words, or how odd it sometimes felt, but it was the truth. It gave her a small sense of pride too as she set her hands on her slightly swollen stomach. Despite everything she had read, she still didn't feel any more confident in her ability to know what to expect than before. But maybe she didn't have to.

Then Trystane cleared his throat. "I… have a name for a girl," he said.

"Oh do you?" Rosamund said, a little surprised. "Well, go on… let us hear it then."

"Marla," he said, poking her exposed belly again. "It's like Mellario, but… not exactly the same."

"Marla," she echoed. That had been the name of one of her great-grandmothers, Marla Prester, who had been the mother of Lady Joanna Lannister. Grandmother Joanna had always spoken fondly of her own mother, and Rosamund had always been close with the Lady of Casterly Rock- though some of that might also have been because she was the only grandmother who had still been alive by the time she was born. "I like that," she decided after a minute of thinking it over. "Tyrion or Marla… gods help us if we end up with both."

Her husband started to get up- but Rosamund grabbed his hand to stop him.

"Could you stay with me a little while?" she asked, with the most petite tone she could come up with. "I'd like it if you would hold me."

"Rosa…" he said, looking back at her, "we'll be there soon."

She nodded. "And I'll get lost in the crowd of your family and have to meet so many new people at once… I just want a little bit of calm down here."

Trystane's opposition melted in an instant, as he sank back down into bed. That was the thing she loved about him the most- how sweet he was. There were boys who were more handsome than him, more brave and gallant, and more intelligent. As a third child, he stood to inherit nothing from his family either, unless his older sister and brother were to die childless. But he was kind and sweet and gentle. When she asked him for something, he gave it. Once they pulled the blankets out from underneath them, they began to cozy up to each other.

Unfortunately, he fell asleep pretty quickly while they were holding each other. She wished that she could join him in slumber, but she honestly didn't feel that tired.

So instead, she turned her attention back to her little one, who maybe was awake or asleep now, but in either case, she had no way of determining. As she rubbed her stomach, she tried to recall how long it had been since she had last bled. A bit more than three months, was what she ultimately came up with, though she couldn't quite remember with certainty. If that was so, she had only maybe half a year until she was a mother, if she wasn't one already/

"I hope you're like Tommen if you're a boy, or Myrcella if you're a girl," she whispered. "Oh… just like Joff, please."

The babe did not answer her, as was expected. But Rosamund knew it wouldn't be long before she could feel it moving inside of her. Myrcella had told her that the first time she felt Eddard move within her was almost magical.

"You're going to be perfect," she finally decided. "I'm sure about it." She never had felt so certain about something in her life.

Rosamund didn't grab her book to start reading or fall asleep. Instead, she just kept holding Trystane for a while. It wasn't going to be long before she met Trystane's family, his father, Prince Doran, his sister, Princess Arianne, his brother, Prince Quentyn, and his uncle, the famed Prince Oberyn, and his daughters, the Sand Snakes. They were to be her new family now, and she felt nervous about facing them for the first time- which was fueled by the fact that she would have to tell them that she was with child too.

It was a child's silly fear, she knew. She doubted her anxieties compared to those that Myrcella was facing, or the worry that someone like her own mother and uncle had to face in King's Landing, trying to rule the capitol while the war was waging on. By comparison, Rosamund's struggles seemed to be nothing.

At some point, she must have dozed off herself though, as she ended up waking to the sound of Ser Arys Oakheart knocking on the door and calling for her. "We've arrived, Princess," he was telling her.

"We've-oh…" she said, as she stirred. Trystane was already sitting up, and she did the same. "Just a minute, ser."

A mad scramble began for them to dress themselves. Rosamund doubted that she looked presentable, and she certainly didn't smell like a princess ought to, since there was no bathing while at sea- just scrubbing and washing with saltwater. But once she got her undergarments and gown back on, and a brief search to find her shoes, Rosamund felt ready- greasy hair and all.

"Are you ready?" the white knight asked as the couple stepped out of the cabin.

Rosamund nodded, and Trystane must have given a non-verbal answer too, since she didn't hear him say anything. It ended up being her that took the lead for them though, both up on the deck and down to the docks, where a group of strangers that was clearly her husband's family awaited.

At the head was a tall and slender man- who looked like an idealized version of Trystane when middle-aged. "My prince," she said, greeting the tall and slender man. "It is good to finally meet you."

"And you are Princess Rosamund," he said. "Sunspear is brightened by your presence, your grace, and Trystane's return."

"Your son is-" she began to say, as Trystane emerged behind her.

The man laughed. "I'm not your good-father, princess. My brother is tending to the Water Gardens. Perhaps you will meet him soon, but not today."

"Oh," Rosamund said, feeling foolish. The rest of the girls were most likely to be the Sand Snakes then, though perhaps Trystane's sister was among them too. She didn't need to ask though.

"Arianne!" Trystane said, happily, as he moved towards the shortest of the women. The shortest… and most beautiful too, with olive skin and dark brown eyes like Trystane. After a brief hug between the two siblings, he began to share a greeting with Prince Oberyn and the other three women, who must have been the Red Viper's daughters.

"Trystane told me you have eight daughters…" Rosamund said, frowning as she looked at Prince Oberyn. "There's only three…"

"Yes," the prince agreed, "Sarella is off on her own business, and the younger four are still in the castle with their mother. If you'd arrived just a couple of days sooner, it would have only been two, since Nym only just got back from the distant castle of Skyreach."

Rosamund tried and failed to remember where the castle was. All she remembered was Trystane explaining where Yronwood was on a map, and saying that had been where his older brother, Quentyn, was fostered. "Is Trystane's brother here?"

"No," Prince Oberyn said, shaking his head. "He remains at Yronwood. My apologies that we are not all together to greet you, princess, as would be customary for welcoming a woman like you."

When Trystane was done greeting his cousins and sister, they all began to advance towards Rosamund. Princess Arianne was the first.

"It is wonderful to meet you at last, sister," the Dornish Princess said, smiling. "You're even more beautiful than what Trystane said in his letters."

Rosamund blushed a little bit. In truth, she wasn't even sure if she was as beautiful as the older princess. Arianne was older- perhaps twenty-one, if Rosamund had to guess her age, though she was shorter than the younger princess. There was an exotic nature to her beauty, and her loose silk clothes hid little of the future Lady of Sunspear's gorgeous body. Her full, well-shaped breasts, curvaceous hips, slender waist among other features, and beautiful black hair that went half-way down her back in ringlets. If I'm beautiful to a woman like her…

Arianne took Rosamund's hand and put a gentle kiss on it.

Then the rest of Trystane's family introduced themselves.

Obara was the tallest of the three Sand Snakes present, likely six feet tall or more. She was hardly the type to be called comely, but from what Trystane had told her, Obara was a warrior- which seemed evidently true.

Rosamund thought both Lady Nym and Tyene were very beautiful too, even if not quite as much as their cousin. But Rosamund was almost unsure that they were even Prince Oberyn's daughters. Tyene was fair-skinned with white-gold hair and deep blue eyes, and a very modest outfit in comparison to the others. Meanwhile Nymeria had pale white skin, to go along with a slim figure that she displayed like Arianne, dark hair, and a beautiful face.

For all that Trystane had told her about his family, Rosamund was still shocked by meeting them at last. "Well met," was all she could say when they were finished, remembering her courtesies. Then she turned to her side and introduced her own company. "I present to you Ser Arys Oakheart of the Kingsguard," she said, allowing the man to step forward. "And Septa Eglantine of the Faith of the Seven."

She noticed the almost mischievous glance that Princess Arianne paid towards Ser Arys. "We should make our way to the castle," the princess said. "I'm sure you must be hungry."

They started to walk off the docks and onto the paved streets of the shadow city, where at least a dozen horses were waiting. Not horses, Rosamund corrected, when she saw them. sand steads.

Ser Arys was there to help Rosamund onto her horse. By the time he finished mounting his own horse, all the others were ready. Princess Arianne stirred her mount to go first, and Rosamund followed with the rest, as she was led into the new castle.

It seemed almost to be a race among them- and were it not for the fact that Rosamund was already unclean, she probably wouldn't have participated in it. But she urged her horse to race along as the sun was reaching its zenith.

They rode through the shadow city, and Rosamund tried to recall the different places and things Trystane had told her about- like the Winding Walls that encircled the main palace. Inside of them, she could make out the Spear Tower, the Tower of the Sun, and the Sandship, the most notable structures that composed the castle which were remarkably easy to identify. But other features and locations were a lot harder to take in, especially as Rosamund had to devote attention towards making sure she didn't go flying off her mount. That would make for a rather unremarkable end to my tale.

According to Trystane, most folks went inside during the hot hours of midday, and she could see that was true as they were riding through the largely empty and vacant streets. Some hailed them from the windows of their houses, but they never had to tell anyone to make way.

Part of the advantage of the Winding Walls that encircled the palace was that they created a complex labyrinth around the castle. Not one like the hedge maze that surrounded Highgarden, but a truly complex web of passages and gateways that would prove difficult for an invading army to handle, as Trystane had described it. The downside was that Rosamund also had no idea how to navigate it. Thankfully, Arianne took them to a place called the Threefold Gate, which was the only gate in the walls that led to a direct passage into the Old Palace.

By the time they were finished, Rosamund's loins ached. It had been a long time since she got to go riding consistently, and she felt strangely out of practice after all of that. Inside the castle, more introductions were waiting for her. She met Maester Caleotte, Ser Manfrey Martell- the old castellan, a man called Ricasso, who was the seneschal of the castle and Lady Alyse Ladybright, the treasurer of the castle, for other notables within the household. Additionally, she was introduced to Lady Ellaria Sand, Prince Oberyn's paramour, and their four daughters; Elia, Obella, Dorea and Loreza, who were younger than the three Sand Snakes she had met on the docks. She played the game of displaying her courtesies, giving unique compliments to each of the younger Sand Snakes, and kissing Lady Ellaria and calling her, "aunty."

It wasn't even that far into the afternoon, yet she felt utterly exhausted. But she couldn't refuse either as Arianne invited them to eat lunch together.

The Sandship had once been the original keep of House Martell, built in the days of Princess Nymeria's rule. In the years that had followed, the Martells grew more secure in their power and began expanding their castle, leading to the construction of more buildings that took after the Rhoynish fashion, just like the Sandship did. Now the old keep was effectively a great hall for Sunspear, and also served as a guest house, as Trystane had explained- though since they were already married, she would almost certainly be given a room within one of the two main towers.

Inside, Rosamund ended up sitting on the far end of the table, between Princess Arianne and Trystane. "How was your voyage, Trys?" the older princess asked with a surprisingly raspy voice. "I trust that you're still healthy."

"I am," Trystane said in response. "It's good to be home again."

"Oh, it is lovely to have you returned to us," Arianne said. "How long is it you were gone now? Three years?"

Trystane nodded. "Three and a half years," he agreed.

"And what was it like, squiring for a man like the Kingslayer?" Arianne wondered.

"It was rather boring most of the time," he said, answering truthfully. Rosamund could see where her husband had gotten those feelings from. Even though Trystane had been her uncle's squire, she barely had noticed him, owing at least in part to the fact that the Kingslayer barely ever used him as a proper squire.

She started to shrug her gown a little bit to adjust to the heat inside, making her shoulders completely bare. The gesture didn't go unnoticed though.

"Are you hot, princess?" Arianne said, almost purring with her voice.

Rosamund gave a slight nod. "It is very hot here." King's Landing was certainly hot too, especially during the summer, but this was something else entirely.

"Father will tell you that you'll get used to it," the older princess told her. "Most of our travel over land is done by night, rather than in the day."

"Oh," Rosamund said, as she took a bite of bread.

Across from them, Tyene spoke up. "Mmm, and a proper wardrobe will do you good as well," she said, smiling. "Gods, I wish I had locks that curled like yours do. Oh, with your beauty and the right outfits, why… you might shine brighter than the sun itself here."

I haven't washed and combed my hair properly since we left Braavos, Rosamund nearly said. She also remembered the old stories about how Lann the Clever may have stolen gold from the Sun itself to make his hair, and that of his descendants so golden. She turned to the other princess instead. "Do you have a sworn shield like Trystane does?" She'd lost track of Ser Gascoyne of the Greenblood since they had gotten off the ship, but now she caught sight of him down the table.

Arianne took a moment to process the question. "No, no," she said, quickly, once she realized what had been asked. "Father only felt Trystane needed one since he was going to be so far away."

"I see," she said.

"Father is still at the Water Gardens, Trys," Arianne began to say, "he didn't tell me to invite you there though."

Trystane looked a bit disappointed. "Rosa and I could go without invitation though, couldn't we?"

Rosa?

It was Ser Arys who answered. "Not yet, my prince," he said. "I think we all need to rest first."

Rosamund agreed, as she ate some of the unknown fish that was laid out for them. "Rest would be nice."

Arianne gave another little purr. "I suppose it would be. Perhaps we could arrange for you to have a new bedmate?"

"A bedmate?" Rosamund asked. "You mean like a bedmaid?"

"Yes… a girl of your age, shares your company, keeps your bed clean, shares your bed," Arianne said.

"A bedmaid," Rosamund repeated, after she had swallowed another bite. "Well, I have Trystane…"

"Oh but… it wouldn't be entirely proper for you to share a bed right away now," Arianne said. "We have certain plans in place."

Plans? Now Rosamund was confused. "Gods, I could use some sleep," she muttered after she let out a yawn. That nap on the boat had made her even more tired than before.

The older princess smiled. "Come then… we'll give you a bath first."

We? Rosamund wondered as she was standing up. But her thought was answered as Obara, Nymeria and Tyene all stood up too.

"We can take care of the princess," Nymeria said, flashing a smile at Ser Arys, who seemed ready to follow. Rosamund would have felt safer with her white knight traveling with her, but a deeper part of her also recognized that if she had to fear treachery from the Sand Snakes, it wouldn't matter. Most of her guards were tired and exhausted from weeks at sea and traveling, and they were in House Martell's seat of power, where their guards almost certainly outnumbered her own.

Rosamund felt Tyene's fingers running through her hair. "Mhm, a young woman like you needs to have other women in her life," she said, quietly. "You didn't bring any friends with you, did you?"

"No," Rosamund admitted. Dating back to her youth, she had always been close with Joy Hill, who was her handmaiden and companion, as well as her cousin, the bastard daughter of her great-uncle Gerion. Sometimes they even would switch places, with her pretending to be the bastard handmaiden and Joy playing the role of the princess, since their resemblance was strong enough. It had been a long time since she'd given much thought to Joy though, which made her feel a little guilty. But her cousin had been sent back to Casterly Rock a little bit before the war had broken out, and Rosamund had never been close with her other ladies, so they'd all stayed behind in King's Landing. "I figured I could make new friends here."

Nymeria, Tyene and Arianne all gave smiles though Obara didn't, which fit with what Rosamund had already seen. There was something oddly comforting in the juxtaposition between the four women and how different they all seemed to be. It didn't feel like they were all just trying to manipulate her or something like that, they were all just interested in the new addition to their family.

She followed the ladies into the shorter of the two towers, which had a domed roof over it. "This is the Tower of the Sun," Arianne announced, obvious as it was. "You and Trystane will be here, in this tower."

That's good. Hopefully I won't have to go up too many stairs then. Not that she couldn't handle stairs right now, but in a few months, she didn't want to be asking Ser Arys to carry her to the top of the tower. The Spear Tower was slender and at least a hundred fifty feet tall, while the stouter Tower of the Sun was just under two-thirds the height of the other one. Not a most pleasant experience for her, certainly, but still more manageable. But what did you mean about us not sharing a bedchamber at first?

"Trystane said there was a portrait of Princess Daenerys Targaryen here in the castle," she said, deciding to engage them a little further with inquiries about their home while they ascended. "Is it in this tower?"

"Oh, indeed," Tyene said, softly. "It's in our throne room. We have two thrones here, twin-like, for a man and woman to share if needed, or for the ruler to alternate as they chose. One fashioned like a sun, the other fashioned like a spear."

Rosamund frowned. "You have a throne room?"

"Why of course," Nymeria said. "Why wouldn't we?"

"Dorne submitted to the Targaryens and are part of the Seven Kingdoms," she replied.

Obara spoke up finally. "Do you know our words, princess? They're your words too now."

"Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken," Rosamund recited with ease.

Nymeria nodded. "We might have submitted to the Iron Throne- but we did not have to give up our customs or titles. Why shouldn't we have kept our throne too?"

It seemed like a fair question to Rosamund. Houses like the Starks, Tyrells and Lannisters still effectively kept what had once been their thrones- though admittedly they were now called lordly seats, instead of thrones. But the Martells still got to be princes and princesses after all.

They made their way up three levels of stairs- then down a long winding corridor, past a series of different doors, until Arianne (who was leading them), stopped. "This one," she told them, though Nym, Tyene and Obara all seemed perfectly aware of it. When they walked in, Rosamund felt a little bit awestruck.

She had expected Sunspear's architecture would be different- and there was no denying that it was- but it was the interior that really seemed to set it apart. The furniture had an ornate quality to it, using unconventional materials and designs to make it have a sense of luxury, even if it might not have been that much more expensive than most furniture was. On the sandstone walls were a series of paintings depicting scenes from history and beautiful places, which Rosamund assumed were either in Sunspear itself or elsewhere in Dorne- since they seemed to be set in a desert still. And in the center of the room was a bathtub, except it was more like a pool, certainly large enough to hold all five of them, let alone just her.

"How is the water already steaming?" Rosamund asked as she sat down on a bench near the doorway, and gingerly removed her shoes. "Did the servants have to bring bucket after bucket up here?"

"Not at all, princess," Tyene said, smiling. She pointed to a drain at the bottom of the tub. "The pool fills itself, when we want it to."

Rosamund frowned. "Trystane said water is scarce here. And… how is this possible?"

"We in Dorne still have some ways of working water that the rest of the world doesn't," Arianne said with a hint of pride. Rosamund saw that her good-sister was stripping too, then realized the three Sand Snakes were as well. "The water is brought from beneath the earth, heated, and brought here. Once it flows out, it feeds gardens and goes back into the earth. Oh, you wouldn't mind us sharing a bath with you… as you said, water is scarce for us."

"That wouldn't be so bad," Rosamund lied as she paid more attention to the decorative bronze plating around the tub. Truth be told, she had imagined her first bath upon arriving at Sunspear to have simply been with Septa Eglantine scrubbing and washing her and combing so hard that Rosamund thought the septa was trying to make her go bald. The way things always were.

"Your uncle didn't mention that you were with child when he was writing to the prince," Obara said.

"Obara…" Tyene said, "this is a princess, you're speaking to."

"Trystane is my child's father," Rosamund said, as she was just slipping out of her gown. "Only he and Ser Arys know yet."

Nymeria raised an eyebrow. "And not your septa?"

"No," Rosamund confessed. "I've been trying to delay her finding out for as long as possible."

Arianne was walking down into the pool, joining Tyene, who had been the first one, when she spoke up. "Any particular reason why, princess?" she said, with an eyebrow raised.

Rosamund made a face. "Well… I may have ah… seduced Trystane before we were betrothed."

"Ohhh," Arianne and Tyene said in unison.

She figured she should mention the other reason too. "My mother didn't want me to get with child before I turned sixteen either."

"Not an unwise thing," Nymeria said as she was entering the pool. By now Obara was in there too, leaving Rosamund as the only holdout, as she tried to neatly put her clothes in a bundle. "You should not resent your mother for that though, princess, as great of a blessing as the child may feel like to you, there was wisdom in her guidance."

"I know," Rosamund said. She'd read about that in her book too, that it was generally safer to avoid having a child at least until the age of eighteen, if not older, though not all women were granted such a luxury. "My mother loves me dearly, I know. And… I know it hurt her to send me here."

"Come on, join us, princess," Arianne said, with a warm smile. "I promise, my cousins aren't actual snakes- they won't bite you."

Rosamund slowly moved towards the bath, feeling nervous about exposing her naked body to these four women who she had only met earlier that day. When she got to the pool, she left with the toes on her right foot as she judged the temperature of the bath. It was hot- but not too hot. Just right.

The pool was four-sided, and there were only five of them, so she had her own side all to herself, as she settled down on the underwater bench. Opposite from her were Tyene and Arianne, while Obara and Nymeria took their own sides. Even though she felt terribly unclean, she didn't begin scrubbing herself just yet, instead just wanting to enjoy sitting in the water.

"Do you like my little brother?" Arianne asked, from across the pool. "Has he been satisfying to you as a partner?"

Rosamund went red. "Well… he's really sweet," she said. "I like him, I really do."

"That is good," Obara said, without a change in expression or even turning towards her.

Nymeria moved a little closer though, and did make eye-contact with Rosamund. "Oh, Trystane would be stupid if he's not happy with you, princess. You're almost as gorgeous as the stories say your mother is." Then her expression changed. "But… if Trystane isn't to your liking, we will not begrudge you that either. If there's another man… or woman, a little more suited to your wants… you're welcome to explore freely."

Am I? Rosamund wondered. She doubted that they would take it well if she announced that her child was actually fathered by a different man. "Here in Dorne, the oldest child inherits, regardless of sex," she said to change the subject, "isn't that right?"

"Oh, indeed," Arianne said.

Rosamund sat a little deeper, allowing the water to go completely over her shoulders. "How come you declared support for my brother then? My sister, Myrcella, she's the oldest, and she's a queen too."

It was Nymeria who answered. "A queen she may be, yes, but a queen consort, not a queen regnant. The Young Wolf seeks only to separate his own kingdom from the realm of King Joffrey, rather than to seat your sister on the Iron Throne."

"But… what if I wanted to see my sister on the Iron Throne?" she wondered. "If it's my marriage that sealed this peace between my family and yours, shouldn't my voice matter in this?"

There were strange looks on the faces of Tyene and Arianne across the pool, but it was Nymeria who spoke again, as she was rubbing her legs under the water. "Oh, it is a sad thing to say, but I don't think so, princess. Your sister is married to a man who only desires to split his realm away from the others after his father committed treason, is that not so?"

Rosamund made an odd face of her own. "Well… I don't quite understand what happened with Lord Eddard," she admitted, "he was always so kind and honorable. Father said he was his best friend. But then after father died, and all the councilors were being brought to the throne room to bend the knee, he… he said that Joffrey wasn't the true king." She had repressed that memory in her mind, but she still remembered all the men getting killed right then in there, as mother and Joffrey had ordered Lord Eddard to be captured. Then, when Lord Eddard was supposed to be given mercy, Joffrey had him executed. I'm not ungrateful to be in a different place than him, Rosamund thought to herself.

Nymeria splashed some water on her chin and rubbed it. "We both know that the Young Wolf likely wants vengeance, or to fulfill whatever plans his father was making. Either way, we both know that doesn't bode well for your family. And we cannot support a queen who won't be given her proper throne."

That made Rosamund sink a little further into the water. "But she loves Robb, and he loves her," she pointed out, thinking about how sweet they always seemed to be when they were together. "I know she's loyal to him and his cause, even now, and he would be loyal to her too." He would get to be king and rule at her side, on the Iron Throne. Why wouldn't he want that?

"You'd be best to put it out of your mind, princess," Lady Nym told her. "Your brother is a good king, isn't he?"

Not at all, she almost said. "Myrcella would be a better queen though," she insisted.

"Mmm," said Obara. "But Prince Doran will not see it that way."

Rosamund recalled the other details of the pact that her uncle had made with Prince Doran. "Uncle Tyrion said there were some lands and castles awarded to Sunspear for this peace, and a seat on Joffrey's Small Council… is that why he would stay true to Joff, even if I asked him to declare for my sister? Oh, what do you want with the head of Ser Gregor Clegane?"

"Ser Gregor Clegane… and Ser Amory Lorch," Obara corrected. "They are the ones who butchered Princess Elia and her babes during the Sack of King's Landing."

"They killed Prince Rhaegar's wife and children?" Rosamund had never liked the Mountain, and she distinctly remembered Ser Amory rubbing her the wrong way too, but these accusations were something else entirely.

"Indeed," Arianne said. "I suspect your family just told you their deaths were an unhappy accident- or glossed over it entirely."

"I knew that they had been killed," Rosamund said, defensively. "If that's true, then they are false knights."

"And should burn in the Seven Hells for all eternity," Tyene concurred.

Lady Nym gave a hard look. "You need to be careful, here in Sunspear, princess. You may be married to Trystane, and carrying his child, but there are those here in the city that still yearn for vengeance against your family for what happened to our aunty and cousins. Some might even desire retribution against you princess, killing you and your child as some twisted way of revenge."

Rosamund shuttered. "Ser Arys will protect me…" she said.

"Let us hope so," said Arianne. "It would be a great cruelty to lose a princess as splendid as you are, hermanita."

She remembered Trystane teaching her a little bit of the old language of the Rhoynar, which had been largely lost to time. As he explained, the most that had survived was smaller words like hermanita, which was a more affectionate way of saying little sister. "Will the prince be coming soon?"

"My father?" Arianne asked to clarify. "Soon, yes."

Rosamund frowned. "Why wasn't he here?"

"There are some things you will learn in time, princess," Nym said.

Arianne flashed a look at her cousin, then spoke for herself. "We know that you and Trystane were married in the Great Sept of Baelor in King's Landing, yes, but we decided we would like to hold a ceremony here as well. My father will be in attendance."

"A… wedding?" Rosamund said. "But we are already married. Is this why you were saying we should sleep apart?"

"It is," said the older princess. "We would get to have a ceremony for us to attend, not just your family. It's not like you would be marrying a different man, you'd just be taking your vows to the man who is already your husband… in our customs."

She frowned. "Would Ser Arys be able to give me away? Joff gave me away last time, but… well he's not here, or my mother, or any of my family."

"I suppose if you'd like him to, we won't stop it," Obara chimed in. "Ser Arys is the white knight who you came here with, isn't he?"

"Mhm," Rosamund said with a nod. "He's more of a father to me than the king ever was."

"Ooh," said Tyene, seeming intrigued by that. "Well, it is customary for brides to sleep in bed with their fathers the night before the wedding, even if they don't have to be given away by them. Since your true father is dead, I think it would be more than suitable for an adoptive father to serve in his stead."

"An… adoptive father?" Rosamund asked. "But I'm not his ward."

"You're his charge, princess," Arianne replied, "and if you think he's more of a father to you than your true one was… well, here you could acknowledge that." The future Lady of Sunspear then turned to her cousin. "Tyene, why don't you get us some soap… what good is a bath without bubbles?"

Rosamund knew that her mother wouldn't approve. But she could not deny what she felt in her heart either. She and Ser Arys had already told each other how they felt on the boat. Why shouldn't I acknowledge the truth? The gods brought me here for a reason. I've married, will soon be a mother, and left my home… why should I shirk from my feelings anymore?

Author Notes:

Thanks for reading, as always, and all feedback will be gladly appreciated. I do really want to stress enough that these chapters really aren't in order chronologically. Also, I did take a few liberties with the overall description of Sunspear, if anyone notices that things seem to be off.

Cheers!