Arianne Martell tensed as she heard footsteps coming up the stairs.
Over by the window, Nymeria and Tyene stopped their squabbling. All three shared a glance. Since their imprisonment in the Spear Tower their only visitors had been servants, none of whom would be arriving at this hour.
The three young women were all related: Arianne was the princess of Dorne, and Nymeria and Tyene were her cousins, bastard daughters of her late uncle Oberyn. The sisters had different mothers, and it showed: Nymeria was full-figured, with dark olive skin and darker hair, whilst Tyene was small and slight with gold curls. Arianne herself was somewhere in between, pale but not milky, with a comet-trail of dark ringlets that fell halfway down her back. They had not been allowed much clothing since their imprisonment following their failed rebellion, and Nymeria was making do with a simple, short-skirted yellow dress belted in leather, while Tyene wore a thin shift of pale blue. Arianne herself had claimed the best item in the cell's limited wardrobe: a red gown with a neckline that plunged past her navel. It was hot, as it always was in Dorne, and so none of them wore any smallclothes.
Hurrying to the door, Arianne pressed her ear against it and heard the footsteps get closer. She made out two pairs of footfalls before throwing herself back just in time to avoid the door as it flew open.
Two men strode into the room. The first was slim and muscular, with a handsome face and blond hair. The second man was broader and dark haired, and wearing a fierce scowl.
'Who are you?' Nymeria demanded, sitting tall on the cushioned seat by the window where she had been lounging. Her dark, almond-shaped eyes flashed in the moonlit gloom of the sumptuously upholstered prison chamber. 'What are you doing in here?'
The first man flashed her a cocky smirk and gave a brief bow. 'My ladies,' he said, 'I am Ser Addam Marbrand, lord commander of the King's Landing City Watch. My companion and I have come to Sunspear to escort Princess Myrcella home.'
The second man bowed his head. 'Ser Balon Swann, Kingsguard to King Tommen,' he growled.
Nymeria sneered derisively at the mention of King Tommen, but Arianne was troubled. She had been waiting for retribution ever since the failure of her plot to crown Princess Myrcella and start a war with House Lannister. Now two Lannister retainers had arrived in her prison cell at the top of a high tower, armed and unannounced, in the middle of the night.
'Ser Balon, I give you the Sand Snakes and Princess Arianne,' said Ser Addam, gesturing to the three of them with a sweep of his arm. 'This one is Tyene,' he continued, walking over and looking down into Tyene's indignant face. 'She inherited her father's sharp tongue, and his aptitude for poison.'
Ser Addam turned and crossed the room to the divan where Nymeria stood, staring him down as he approached. He stopped in front of her, looking her supple, muscular body up and down.
'This one is Nymeria,' he said. 'Her uncle has taken her whip, but I dare say she would kill us by glaring if she could.'
Ser Addam continued his round of the room, stopping at last before Arianne's bed. 'And this,' he said with a note of finality, 'is Princess Arianne of Dorne.'
'The one who ensnared our sworn brother and almost got our princess killed,' Ser Balon grumbled.
'Darkstar did that,' Arianne rebutted hotly. If these men thought she and her sisters were responsible for harming Myrcella they may well seek retribution. Furthermore, she knew she had acted rashly by seducing Arys Oakheart and running off with her band of conspirators to crown the princess, but she genuinely cared for Myrcella. Darkstar's attempt to murder her when their plan was discovered had shocked Arianne as much as anyone.
'Darkstar's blade took her ear,' Ser Balon growled. 'She lies abed with fever.'
'I am sorry to hear that,' Arianne replied. 'Are you here to kill us?'
She had thought to catch them off-guard with the blunt question, but Ser Addam only smiled.
'Kill you?' he exclaimed. 'Never. We are knights of honour.'
'A formal apology has been demanded,' said Ser Balon. 'We are here for it.'
'And we are not leaving,' said Ser Addam, shrugging off his cloak, 'until we are satisfied.'
Two cloaks, one white and one red, fell to the floor. The knights' sword-belts followed.
'Lord Doran is waiting upon our answer,' said Ser Addam. 'If we are satisfied with your apology, Dorne shall have peace with the Iron Throne. If you refuse, then it will be war.'
'It is a choice, really,' said Ser Balon, 'between the sword and the lance.'