♛ → DORNE presents ELLARIA MARTELL, the PRINCESS of DORNE. the 26 year old FEMALE who was CHARISMATIC & DIPLOMATIC before they saw the first of the flames, is now MANIPULATIVE & IMPULSIVE after seeing the last. through the ash, now they struggle to find the cool brush of fingers against dew covered roses at dawn, the self-satisfied smirk of approval given by passing reflections, and the pressed shadows of hurried feet on scorching sand, instead of the remnants of the war of succession.
Personality
MBTI Type: ENTP-A, The Debater
Birthday: June 12th 115AC
Zodiac Sign: Gemini
{+} Charismatic, outspoken, curious, caring
{-} Manipulative, impulsive, blunt, argumentative
Background + Headcanons
When conflicts arise she is often called upon to mediate the situation due her level-headedness and knack for understanding what people actually want. This could be used to manipulate people for her own gain, but only in extreme circumstances.
She's very open-minded and non-judgmental, she does not tend to assume that anybody is lesser than her and finds great reward in broadening her worldview by getting to know people.
Despite this point, when caught up in an argument she can be insensitive to other people's feelings, sometimes taking things too far in order to win.
When rumours of war first started to spread, Ellaria had a guard teach her how to defend herself and continues to learn. She wanted to know that, should the worst happen, she would be able to defend herself and her family, not be cowering in the corner calling out for a saviour.
She loves being an aunt and enjoys spending time with her nieces and nephews
Connections
FAILED ENGAGEMENT [ Dastan ] - Possibly a childhood sweetheart or a betrothal that was affected by the war.
CLOSE FRIEND(S) - Ellaria prides herself on having a close circle of sincere friends. Anybody who could tolerate her initial bout of curious questioning and occasionally unpredictable behaviour would find a loyal and kind friend in her.
GUARD / KNIGHT [ Rashid ]- When war broke out she asked this person to teach her how to defend herself and continues to have lessons with them.
BED WARMER - Not necessarily serious but they enjoy each other’s company and help each other unwind.
heavy was the head that wore the crown. it was a saying as old as monarchy itself. dorne had seen it’s share of kings, queens, princes, and princesses. mors was just one heir in an unending line of many. the martells were a large family, even without so many foreigners, the old palace was never quiet. which gave mors very few places he needed to think on important matters without being distracted by one thing or another. he found the waters of dorne had always calmed him though, the coolness a balm on his sometimes weary mind and body. there was a particular fountain he would retreat to after training, one he favored due to its meaning in his marriage and how secluded it was, shirt discarded so he could cup his hands in the water and let it run over his tired muscles. he’d taken to training with his lord commander lately and he could tell she was angry with him for the delays he made in letting her get her revenge. it was not out of cruelty that he did it, but he needed the help of the lannister and tyrells, if only just a small discussion with either king. however they were… preoccupied.
he wondered how distasteful he should find it that they sent practically all their people to go to war during a peace-talk.
thoughts cycled through the prince’s head as he moved to dunk his head in the overflowing water of the fountain’s second tier, pulling back when he felt the shade of someone coming up behind him. slicking back his hair, dark eyes found the person that had come to disrupt the rare quiet moment the prince had found. “can i help you with something?”
It felt as though it had been weeks since Ellaria had last had a real conversation with her eldest brother. With so many visitors crowding the halls of Sunspear she had been able to exchange a few pleasantries while they presented a united Martell front, but rarely found a moment alone with her siblings, least of all with Mors who had been swept up by various obligations and meetings important to his preparations as Crown Prince.
Pinching her dress she lifted the hem a little above her feet and sat down to dip her toes in the cool water. “You can help me finish these dates if you’d like”, she offered as she set the bowl on the lower wall of the fountain. The princess sympathised with her brother, it must be taxing to be so serious all the time. It often seemed to her that he carried the weight of Dorne on his shoulders despite not yet ruling it.
Kohl lined eyes followed her brother with concern, undeterred by the droplets now falling from his hair. “You look like you have much on your mind, perhaps I could be of some help to you brother?”
zain qorgyle was not a mystery, he left his mind out there for anyone to pick or prod at. perhaps that was a flaw, in some eyes, but he thought it was the perfect disguise. if one felt they knew plenty about him, they would not press him for anything more, would they? the lord of sandstone had always had a peculiar personality, but it suited him well. he was glad, at the very least, the princess ellaria did not call him out on his less than ideal attempt to woo some lady. he hadn’t meant to offend. not really. but perhaps in his own little way he wanted to see if one would eventually engage. he always enjoyed a good little verbal spat, even about the pettiest of things.
he nodded with a grin upon his features, inhaling the fresh air, enjoying the cooler feel of the outside as the ballroom only grew hotter as the night went on, for various reasons, of course. there were so many candles burning. and loins. his own thoughts made him give another chuckle before he cleared his throat. “i am. your family has done dorne’s beauty a great justice with such an event.” his words rang true as he turned to admire all they had prepared for the rest of the world. “and you, your grace?” he questioned. “don’t tell me you’re finding escape out here? anyone i need to speak with?” zain’s tone was in jest, but he would very well do so if she asked. the martell’s felt as if his own family, with myriam being someone he had been close to for many years now.
His words seemed to relieve a weight Ellaria had not realised she had been carrying. Of course she could not take credit for the all preparations and arrangements Sunspear had made, for that had been taken care of by her parents and eldest brother. However as a princess of Dorne she felt it’s failures and successes personally. “I am glad to hear you say so. I’m sure Mors will be especially grateful,” her smile grew brighter as she stood to meet him. "I have been hearing similar compliments from our guests all evening but they mean little compared to the honest praise of a Dornishman.”
Dorne had never been known to pander to the whims of the other kingdoms and despite their agreement to host the peace talks, efforts had been made to ensure that their home’s beauty shone so brightly that their guests longed to share in it, rather than dulling the sun of house Martell so that visitors might not feel threatened but its difference. This evening’s ball had been a testament to that. From the North to the Crownlands and every kingdom in between, many of the dignitaries attending had chosen to dress according to the customs of Dorne as show of respect for their hosts.
The princess chuckled lightly as he presented his offer not doubting that, like her brothers, he would not hesitate to see to anybody who caused insult to House Martell, not least because Myriam was her sister through marriage. “I assure you Lord Qorgyle, if there had been an incident he would be the one in need of your assistance.” Practiced fingers swept across the sheathed blade concealed beneath her gown, waiting to be used if the need arose. “I just needed a place to bide my time until my last dance partner finds a new distraction. And you my Lord, are you in need of somebody to convince a certain veiled maiden of your gallantry?” The smirk pulling at her lip revealed she had witnessed some of his unconventional attempt to charm a Lady.
location: sunspear, the dornish ball ;; open starter
“so you’re not to be wed, then?” the lord of sandstone spoke to a beautiful woman from gods knew whichever other realm, he did not care, what he did care about was what thief tricked her into believing such a gown was appropriate for the ball. “i suggest you remove this…and this.” he pointed to her veil and then gestured all over. “or one of these dornish men may take you for a bride, my lady. there’s no fun in being a bride at a ball, is there?” he asked, tone teasing, brow raised as features suggested the more intimate things occurring in the shadows, known, but not necessarily spoken lest one of these northerners faint at such a scandal. the woman scoffed and waltzed away without another word. “it was a valiant effort though!” he called before shrugging, taking a sip of red from his cup as he made his way around again to another person interesting enough to converse with him.
he danced his way across the floor, skipping to the beat in a probably random fashion, if only to pique another’s interest, before departing the dance floor and approaching the courtyard. the man took a minute to observe the stars, which he believed to be much brighter in sandstone, truly. “beautiful night, is it not?” he asked the first figure who found their way into his path.
☀
Taking a seat on a stone bench facing the fountain in the courtyard, Ellaria lifted her head to look at the night sky drinking in the cool evening breeze which made it’s way from the docks over the palace of Sunspear. Gods, she thought to herself, some people truly were not made for warm climates. The princess had just about escaped the grips of one particularly sweaty northern lord who had asked her to dance a very sticky waltz. As soon as the song had finally ended she had given him a polite nod before making a beeline for the balcony, giving him no time to request another. She did not blame him, when she had visited the North she had been no different - her lips had appeared almost blue after prolonged periods outside despite the layers of furs she had bundled herself in - she only wished he had more compassion for his dance partners.
Turning her head towards the source of voice she recognised the Lord of Sandstone joining her in her place of sanctuary. “Stunning”, she agreed, her voice low for she felt the stars, which this evening gleamed against the clear Dornish sky, deserved some measure of reverence. "Are you enjoying the ball, my Lord?”
The Lord of Godsgrace spotted Selene in the company of the Northern blacksmith and the blonde dressmaker— Anya and Dahlia, he recalled she’d said were her friends’ names. A small smirk crossed his lips as their eyes met across the room. Good gods, he could only hope the ladies weren’t up to some trouble tonight.
The lord then made his way to get something to drink. He was being more cautious with his consumption of wine and other liquors these days, especially with the way he’d made the drinking to an excessive point a part of his broken method to deal with the losses he’d experienced in the past months. Instead of pouring himself some Dornish red as so many of the guests did, he opted for some chai instead, soothed by the fragrance and the spice. “Those are wise words. I do recommend you heed her grace’s words, my lord,” the lord mentioned casually, glancing to the side to the foreign dignitary and to the Princess of Dorne. The guest glanced at his cup and opted to fill it just about a third of the way rather than filling it, as he initially appeared to have considered.
The lord —a Valeman, Dastan would bet due to his attire and stern manner— walked away and the Allyrion lord offered a warm smile to Ellaria. Dastan was glad to see her, to maybe have her grant him some of her time tonight. What history wasn’t there between the houses of Allyrion and Martell? Both families had become entwined decades ago since the strong friendship between Nymor and Arstan was forged, full of camaraderie and loyalty. Then Mors and Myriam married, but Dastan had always loved the Martell princes and princesses, and Ellaria had always had a special place in his heart. It was a shame their bond had to suffer after what happened in the North, as Dastan put some distance between himself and the royal family to recover from the way his name had been tarnished and to sink himself into work, drink and sex during the harrowing trauma of losing his father and his wife in such short succession. “Ella,” he said, calling her the loving nickname of their youth, “It’s been a while. I hope you are enjoying the evening’s festivities”.
☀
Dastan. A wave of surprise washed over her as the Lord of Godsgrace took the place of the nobleman who had been at her side. Her hand tensed slightly around her goblet of Dornish red, though her expression remained measured offering him a gracious smile while her chestnut hued eyes met his, looking to discern his mood. With all he had gone through of late she could not have blamed him if he chose not to attend but she was glad he had, as a Lord of Dorne and a lifelong friend of the Martells.
“It has been, my Lord, far too long. I am pleased to see you here. Are you well?” Her eyes flickered to the cup in his hand, noting with interest his choice of chai over wine. Between courtly gossip, brief meetings in the Vale, and the raven that had carried the news of his Lady wife’s passing to Sunspear, Ellaria had been able to build a picture of where life had taken Dastan. In the time since they had been young together she had often wondered what might have been. Had their paths not been forced to diverge might she have been able to spare him some of the suffering he had faced? She knew it did not do to dwell on such thoughts for all happened as the Gods willed it, of course, but there would always be a place for him in her heart wishing him well. They had both grown in different ways since their fleeting courtship, perhaps he would grant her the opportunity to get to know the man the Allyrion Lord had become.
“I am enjoying the festivities very much. In fact, I have only just been able to pry myself away from the dance floor so you have caught me at the perfect time.” The princess took a sip from her goblet as she glanced around. In every direction she could see pairs dancing sporting the accents of their houses, groups of noblemen and women sharing comments to the side, and one couple weaving through the crowd to find a secluded meeting place. All was exactly as a ball should be, a success which she hoped would have people speaking positively of Sunspear for the near future, even if the peace talks were unable to bring change to the realm. “Have you danced yet this evening?”
the winding bazaars of sunspear’s inner walled city were a terrority the leopard of spottswood knew like the very back of his hand, able to navigate through the winding passages and shortcuts even if his midnight black orbs were completely blindfolded. as a second son of house santagar, there was no essential need for the man to engage in this part of his life; and yet, he felt as though to find some inner peace with himself, there needed to be more purpose than merely enjoying the life he was born into. and so, the guard of sunspear was often seen with many of the poor, resolving any issues and conversing with both the highest and lowest of society.
walking into another bustling lane of bazzars, where spices were piled high in triangles and vendors shouted their prices over one another to those locals passing by, he spotted the familiar tall, graceful figure of one of the martell princesses stood among the crowds. no doubt many had succumbed to the temptation of peering at the strangers that now called their lands home, at least for some short time; rashid prayed no bloodshed would befall upon their golden sands, and all would return home in once piece lest a war break out upon their very soil.
slipping the golden blade of his scimitar back into his sheath, ensuring the sharp blade did not come across any other contact as he silently winded his way toward her, she seemed to be able to pinpoint his presence easily enough; so much for a leopard among the grass. “gifts, for his demanding sundari at home.” he spoke, his tone low as he followed her gaze yet stood behind her, the beginning of a slight smirk crossing over his features. “i know you were taught not to stare at guests, princess.”
☀
“Yes, I like your theory better.” The princess was well aware that this romantic idea was even less plausible than the guesses she herself had come up with, however she was content to continue her day believing that some lucky beauty would soon be delightedly receiving trunks of gifts from this man, making him feel as though his wearisome journey had been worth the effort. “You could learn a thing or two from him about how to treat your sundari,” she teased, not hiding the grin that pulled at her lips as she averted her gaze from the scene ahead to caste a warm smile on Rashid. Amid the clamour of the ball she had not realised quite how welcome it would be to see a familiar face, not least that of one of her oldest friends.
“I would have thought you’d be proud Rashid,” she countered with a slight tilt of her head. “Was it not you who taught me to be aware of my surroundings at all times, to survey them for any sign of a threat?”
Open starter
Location: Dorne, Sunspear
The Dornish Ball
In every direction there were swirling gowns and robes of gold, amber and orange interspersed between the colours of the great houses of Westeros as servers accustomed to the relatively more relaxed pace of the Sunspear court flitted between their guests. As she peeled herself away from the dance floor and took a well-deserved sip from a goblet of wine, the Dornish princess could not help but marvel at the sight of representatives of every kingdom smiling, laughing and dancing with one another. It almost gave her hope that these peace talks would prove fruitful and peace between the kingdoms might be a possibility.
If there was any part she could play in creating a future free of war Ellaria was happy to play it. While their leaders made hushed deals behind closed doors she focused her efforts into presenting the best possible image of her home to the delegates who this evening filled the halls of the palace.
“Be careful,” the Princess advised her neighbour who was reaching for a full goblet of Dornish Red, her eyebrow raising slightly, a playful smile pulling at her lips. “It’s sweetness can be deceiving. Over indulge and you may find yourself without your senses come the morning.”
Sunspear’s shadow city oft seemed deserted in the heat of the day, when only buzzing flies moved down the dusty streets, but once evening fell the same streets came to life.
Had Sunspear seen so many unfamiliar faces in recent times and was this how the Stark King had felt when he had found himself similarly hosting men and women from across the seven kingdoms. Curious but on his guard, hoping for the best but preparing for the worse? Karsan was no regent, he was a lordling compared to those that had bore their titles since birth and been raised with the weight of the expectations that came with it on their shoulders and yet stood next to the second born princess of Dorne he could easily imagine the mixture of feelings she must have been feeling. Ellaria seemed intent on viewing their situation from the lighter side, playing a guessing game as they both watched yet another poorly dressed foreigner barge his way into their gates.
This one though had a sizeable prize with him carried by a horse, the poor creature looking parched and tired. Karsan shook his head in disapproval. It was a mystery to him how so many could make the journey to Dorne and yet be so woefully unprepared for the most basic of changes. Silently he looked as the horse trudged through the path at a fast pace. He gave a shrug. “Whatever it is, I would bet it isn’t heavy. Surely not jewelry or gold. Clothes, perhaps. Or food. That would certainly explain why he’s in such a hurry, would it not?” He asked, turning to Ellaria. “Shall we go ask him ourselves, your highness?”
.
Without averting her gaze she followed the man as he led his disgruntled horse through the bazaar, disappearing out of sight of the balcony she had been watching from. Exciting though having so many people from across Westeros gather in her home was, it was refreshing to find a few moments of quiet and watch the streets of Sunspear spring to life as they always did when when the sun began to set and the air became cooler.
“The idea of discovering if any of my guesses are correct is tempting but I fear that the truth would only be disappointing in comparison,” she turned to Karsan with a polite smile. With so many eyes on her family at present she thought it might not be the best time for the princess to run personal inspections on travellers’ luggage. “I’m sure you’re right, it will be nothing more exciting than clothes or food. If he poses any threat the Guard will no doubt see to it.”
"This is just my way of amusing myself, I find that by focusing on one individual the crowd becomes less overwhelming.”
Qoren enjoyed a bit of Princely authority. Using his powers to decree things as he willed, typically harmless and for his own amusement. This could equal such amusement, though the merchant was nervous. Nerves made him suspicious. Why should a man be afraid to share his wares with a Dornish Prince and Princess. “She’s right, if you’re lucky you may find yourself moving beyond working in the bazaar with the coin you could make on this day.” Qoren watched closely, throwing a smile at the man who continued to glance at him before he opened his trunk. Initially, he was disappointed by the fabrics. Nothing. It wasn’t nice. It wasn’t even jewelry. They weren’t even catching a smuggler with something controversial. Just ugly clothing.
Then his sister spoke. He looked at her, then looked back at the merchant. “She decrees it.” Qoren added to her order, his eyes looking over the bangle in her hand. He looked into the trunk himself, kneeling down as he moved through the many fine pieces. “He either made these or stole them Perhaps, he has a secret trade.” The Prince rose and turned to face the man, arms crossing over his chest. “Sister, do you like that thing in your hand? I’m sure this merchant is selling it. And perhaps, anything else in the trunk. Though,” he placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, “I’m curious why such a fine craftsman would hide such finery.”
Qoren grinned at his sister. “Does it make you curious? Because, it makes me so curious.”
☀
“It does, it makes me very curious,” Ellaria grinned back at her brother, her day was proving to be more exciting than she had expected. “With this level of talent the craftsman who made these would not need to search far for customers, why then would he hide them out of sight of royals with heavy purses”.
There was no doubt that the merchant looked uncomfortable, the expression on his face reminded her of somebody who had been caught in the throne room before the whole court half dressed. Not an experience she could relate to but one she had regrettably helped to facilitate.
When asked to name his price by the Princess, with what words he could muster after recovering from the shock of being confronted by Dornish royalty, he insisted that the jewelry was not for sale but would not reveal it’s origin or destination. If he was, as Qoren suspected, a thief, he was not a very good one. Though she was no expert herself, even Ellaria could tell that transporting your stolen goods through the bazaar in broad daylight, all the while dressed to stand out from the crowd, was a terrible idea.
“I am beginning to wonder if we have merely stumbled upon a middle-man running errands for somebody of greater skill and intelligence”, she mused to Qoren, loudly enough for the so-called merchant to hear. It was surprising how readily some could forget all pretenses when the need to defend their own ego arose. “What do you think brother, a matter for the guards perhaps?”
Mya picked up a few grapes from the tray and ate them as she watched the woman sit down next to her. She might not enjoy their wine, but she had to admit that their fruit selection was quite delicious. “You are very right, the world would be a very dull place if we all enjoyed the same things. Although, I have to admit, your fruits are quite delicious.” Maybe it was because of all the sun they received, maybe it made them more tasteful. “Yes, actually. Is it that obvious?” Mya asked with a chuckle. “I never had the chance to travel much, my parents preferred to keep me home, for my safety they would say.” She shrugged her shoulders, glad that she was now able to explore more of the world.
☀
Ellaria nodded her agreement smiling brightly, “I do not believe you will find fruits richer in taste and flavour anywhere else in Dorne.” It was a source of great pride for the Princess to see others enjoying the gifts her home had to offer. Seeing somebody experiencing the things she so easily took for granted for the first time was refreshing. “Ah, how often ladies are told the same story”. To travel to far corners of the world at will as her brother did was a freedom Ellaria had come to accept should would not share, she could only make the most of the times when she able to accompany her family on visits to other kingdoms. “In that case you must take advantage of Dorne while you are here. Have you visited the gardens yet? If not I would be happy to show them to you.”
The last thing Mya wanted was to insult their hosts in any way. She was very thankful to them for being so welcoming, for making sure they were all comfortable and all their needs were attended. Although, she couldn’t lie to the woman who had approached her, to be honest, Mya wasn’t capable of lying to save her life. “I did not mean to insult.” She paused, turning to look at the woman with a small smile. “Wine just isn’t my favorite drink. I hate it actually, I don’t understand how people enjoy it so much. I much prefer tea or juice.”
☀
Well, she could not fault the woman’s honesty even if her preference in beverages was questionable. She stopped a servant and requested he bring a jug of fresh juice squeezed from Dornish oranges to the table before taking a seat next to Lady Blackwood. “Although I cannot agree with you, I take no offense. Things would be very dull if we all had the same taste would they not?” Smiling warmly she plucked a date from the tray that had been laid out and took a bite. “I take it this is your first visit to Dorne?”
Mya walked into the main hall where breakfast was being served. She greeted some of the servants as she passed by, before taking a seat at one of the tables, soon enough there was bread, fruits, meat and some other different foods in front of her. She was still getting used to Dorne and its warm weather. Mya always preferred the cold, she found that she dealt a lot better with it than she did with the hot weather. Although, by now Mya was finding it easier to adjust, much better than when she first arrived here. Taking some bites from a piece of bread, she took a sip from the mug that had been placed in front of her just to regret it almost instantly. It was wine and if there was something Mya didn’t like, it was wine. Mya groaned as she placed the mug back down on the table, quickly eating some bread and meat to take away the flavour. “Gods, that was awful. How do people drink that and enjoy it?” She mumbled to herself, knowing that right now, she really most likely didn’t look like a proper lady.
☀
As she passed through the courtyard banquet hall that had been repurposed to serve their many guests during the talks, Ellaria could not help but slow her pace at the sound of a splutter behind her. The space was only ever this full during weddings, the kings name day or other similar special occasions. It made a welcome change to see it so buzzing with activity. An amused smirk crossed her lips as she turned to the culprit, approaching from behind to stand beside the table. “Is our famed Dornish red is not to your liking my lady?”
The Spare Prince of Dorne was so tired of speaking with the strangers visiting Sunspear he wanted to get away. He wanted to be lost in the crowds of the bazaar. And while he would never be just another face to his Dornish people, seeing the Prince walking among them wasn’t too uncommon. Qoren felt at home when he was with his people. He felt at ease and could be more of himself than the performance he put on for their guests to see and whisper how personable the Prince that made no decisions was.
Even with his personal concerns, the little thoughts that kept him awake at night as he worried about his place. What would Dorne think of him? Would he be the People’s Prince until one of Mors’ sons grew to take his place in the heart of the people? Then who would he be? As much as he loves his brother and his family, his place … it was hard to know where he fit in when looking at the grander puzzle of life.”
“Such luck to find myself with family and even more luck for us to stumble across something great.” Qoren walked over to the merchant and then over to the trunks, tapping on them before looking over his shoulder. “I want you to open these. We want to see all of your wares. You never know, you might make yourself the best sell you’ve had in this lifetime.” Qoren grinned brightly. “Or I’ll open them myself and then I might have to confiscate what I find.”
.
Bumbling and stuttering the merchant halted dazzled, Ellaria assumed, by the effervescent presence of the Dornish prince. The bright colours and practical fabrics they wore seemed to have that effect on those who came from cooler climates. She hurried behind Qoren attempting, and failing, to contain the grin that pulled at her lips. “My dear brother, as always you are are far too generous! How fortunate I am that he would spoil me so!” Flashing her most charming smile she addressed the merchant, eager to discover whether any of her guesses would prove correct. “Please good sir, do as the prince asks and show us what you keep in these trunks. One sale to us could mean you would have no need to work for a moon.”
The merchant’s hesitancy only served to further intrigue her. With one eye on Qoren he undid the clasps and slowly lifted the first open. Her smile faded as tattered rags that some might consider to be clothing came into view, betraying her concern that they had just corned a poor traveler into revealing his personal belongings in the middle of the bazaar.
”Lift them,” she asked, her tone level but a little sharper. Grinning she glanced at her brother, "my, what do we have here”. She lifted a finely crafted bangle inlaid with brilliant red stones from the trunk, turning it in her hand, inspecting the quality of the piece. “Surely you did not make this yourself?”
A jewel merchant following the crowds in the hopes of selling his less than precious wares to nobles with untrained eyes? Or perhaps a noble himself, cast out by his family who were sure to be in Dorne for the peace talks, bringing furs and treasures collected over years of travelling to prove his worth and find reconciliation of his own? Ellaria pondered to herself, her eyes following a traveler in worn moss coloured robes, wildly overdressed for the Dornish heat, who was leading a horse laden with trunks through the bustling stream of new arrivals.
It was not often that Sunspear saw so many unfamiliar faces pass through its gates, each with a unique story to tell. Given half the chance the Princess would spend all morning watching people from the balcony of the palace, inventing rich stories for them in her mind. Amusing speculations occupied her so much so that she had not noticed somebody join her.
“Look there,” without averting her gaze she nodded her head in the direction of the man. “What do you suppose needs so many trucks to hold? He seems to be in a terrible hurry to deliver them somewhere.”
