Chapter 89: Attempted assassination

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―Dorne―

Sunspear ― Near the Water Gardens...

Taking a private stroll through the Water Gardens, King Daveth had longed to steady his nerves and calm himself down in the wake of what could possibly be described as a breach of protocol if not a breach of trust. Earlier, one of his own Kingsguard Ariyana Dayne had admitted to spying on him on behalf of House Martell; despite Prince Doran's attempt of explanation, Prince Oberyn and his paramour Ellaria Sand had pissed him off and caused him to storm out. The Young Stag knew he had to better control himself, but the thought of being deceived again was too much for him to handle. Leaning against the wall, Daveth chose to do his breathing exercises: slow inhales through the nose, slow exhales out the mouth. Keeping two fingers pressed against his wrist, the Young Stag checked his pulse so it'd remain steady.

"The house that puts family first will always defeat the house that puts the whims and wishes of its sons and daughters first. A good man does everything in his power to better his family's position – regardless of his own selfish desires," a voice rang through his mind.

"No matter who you are, no matter how strong you are, sooner or later, you'll face circumstances beyond your control, my son. When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die. There is no middle ground."

Daveth shook his head, trying to rid himself of past ghosts—those no longer with him. Feeling himself tense up, he curled his left hand into a ball and smacked the side of the building.

"Seems what my wife said about you is true, after all. You are a good lad."

"No... no, Ned, I'm really not," he quietly told himself.

"Brother!" a feminine voice called out to him. "Brother, wait!"

Turning his head, Daveth saw his younger sister Myrcella chasing after him—her delicate hands lifting the front of her dress so as to not trip over herself. Following close alongside her was Prince Trystane Martell; both of them had departed from the meeting chambers and sought him out.

"Your Grace," Trystane panted.

Myrcella huffed and straightened her hair. "Brother, come back with us please."

"I asked to be left alone."

Both Trystane and Myrcella were briefly taken aback by Daveth's bluntness, but it was Myrcella who quickly recomposed herself.

"Forgive me, Your Grace, but it's a request I will not obey," she told him. "The Queen has been very specific on what you've been gone through during these last few years. Because of that, I cannot in good conscience leave you alone."

"Oh? You think you understand exactly what I've been through?"

"Ever since Lannisport, yes. You're my brother, so of course I'd notice when something bothers you," she paused momentarily. "I also heard about what Joff did. The riots, all those innocent children..."

Daveth knew what Myrcella was referring to. "He paid for his crimes."

"What of the Greyjoys? You destroyed the Iron Islands."

Normally the Young Stag would find that particular mention of House Greyjoy to trigger harsh, unforgiving flashbacks of his troubled youth—but much to his surprise felt nothing at all. He wasn't fond of it, but neither did he back down. "I don't deny it, but not all the Greyjoys are gone. Yara is spending the rest of her days locked up at Deepwood Motte, and Theon... well, he had the courtesy of working against his father's wishes from the beginning."

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