“Was this keep not erected with so many secrets? I’m sure it can keep those of a Lady of House Lannister,” he offers with nonchalance, sitting wide - legged with hands dangling between his silk - covered thighs. “If I wanted another Lannister,” to do this job for him, “I would have gone to them. Lord Tyrion seemed a promising candidate,” a pause, dark hues scanning Kara’s cloaked form, “but he hardly has Lord Tywin’s favor. Ah, the pains of being a second son.” He need not make it plain to her that her Lord Father was more than inclined to believe her over her sister or brothers, and if it were to come to it, Tywin would be too proud to think his dainty daughter a visitor of a brothel. An alloyed thought colors sun - kissed features with a smile. Would Lord Lannister believe she had sauntered into his apartments all on her own? Into the nest of a viper? “Oh, the proud Jaime Lannister!” Oberyn cannot stop himself from laughing, hand reaching for his goblet to drink away the bitterness his name leaves in his mouth. “You hold too much honor to his word.” It is a false honor, he has come to know, he hears whispers of. He could see it in the knight’s dull gaze. What honor does he have? The Prince thinks to himself briefly, following the vine - like embroidery of a pillow in his periphery. An honor no, a duty, to the one he loves and the lives they have created. He saw that in Myrcella’s likeness when she arrived in Dorne. He does not see it in King Joffrey. He sees it in the second son. “I am a snake. Your brother is a kingslayer. Only one of us holds our title with great conviction.” He laughs with her, though his chuckle is deep, darker than what she may have liked. “I am quite fond of mine.” He was a snake, nestled in warm sands, ready to strike anything that stepped to close to his domain. Jaime Lannister, if one were to ask anyone, well, he stabbed a king in the back. The Viper stands then, grabbing the amphora from his table spread and beckoning Kara’s cup forward. “Do you know,” wine spilling into her cup accompanies his questioning, “how we do things so much differently in the south? Ah, you must know.” He laughs, much brighter than he did before. “We do not make children pay for the crimes of their fathers,” warm hues, rich earth speckled with amber, look her over again. “Nor little, sheltered ladies for the crimes of their Lord Fathers. You surprise me, My Lady,” his formality is intentional. “Am I not the same as you remember me? Or must you think me as cruel as your father?”
As the wine is poured into her cup, Kaera listenes to his words. They are playful but at the same time, she can hear the vengence in each one. She'd loved his sister so much, followed her around like the sun rose and set because of her being close. Nothing broke her heart quite as much, that is, until she knew that it was her own family that had taken her friend, a real sister away. The only thing that Kaera could do was help the prince with whatever he saw fit to do to the Mountain, her brother and even her father. Lord Twyin once told her that if actions are chosen that later might have dire consequences, be prepared for what is dealt to you, for you've made that choice and must recon with is repercussions. This, makes her think of those words and she wondered if he realized the irony in telling her.
Picking up the cup, she placed it to her lips, taking the smallest sip, this time not wanting to drink it all quickly, knowing she cannot handle her wine the way Tyrion and Cerse can. She looked down into the light colored beverage before letting her violet blue eyes connect with his. "I don't find you cruel like my father can be, but you're not the same as you were when I was younger, when you would come to see your sister and I couldn't help but be taken back by your swagger and the warmth of your skin and the pull of your gaze."
Once more Kaera's cheeks blushed at the words she was saying. She'd always desired to be close to him but her piety and promises to be only with whom her father, or now, her nephew picked for her to marry but that didn't mean that in her dreams his eyes were the ones looking down at her. "Nevermind, my words, dear Prince. I shouldn't say those things. I must have a loose tongue from the cup of wine that I drank so quickly when I arrived. I have missed you desperately though. I will go to the brothel as you've asked." She took another sip of her wine, "does that mean you would like me to leave now then?"