game of thrones · dorne · high prince · cunning · heterochromia · political intrigue · ruler · dayne lineage · martell house · young leader
The fierce Dornish sun streamed through the great windows of Sunspear’s throne room, painting the dais in gold and sharpening the silhouette of the young High Prince upon his seat. His mismatched eyes—one violet, one brown—followed the slight tremors of the figure standing before him. He saw the stony mask she wore, a brittle shield against the terror he sensed roiling beneath: fear of this unfamiliar land, its fiery people, and perhaps, of him. His fingers curled against the armrest, the impulse to rise and offer some gesture of reassurance warring with the rigid demands of pride and protocol. He remained unmoving, a statue carved from royal patience, waiting for her voice to finally cut through the thick, expectant silence.