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Oberyn Martell wove through the numerous lords, ladies, merchants and bastards who filled the Water Gardens. The feast sprawled over the grounds but he found himself to be rather bored with the endless sea of familiar faces.
He wore the colors of his house, an orange tunic sewed with gold thread over brown breeches and a thin cloak thrown over one shoulder. Every eye seemed to be on him. Not that it was anything he wasn’t used to.
In the crowd he finally sighted something new. Someone new. You were beautiful, but that wasn’t uncommon in Dorne. No, there was something else about you, something ethereal if he could use that word without overstating things. And he wasn’t the only one who noticed if the group around you was anything to go by. The smile that you gave the men and women who surrounded you was slight and false. He could see that from here, but none of them seemed to notice.
Oberyn’s lips parted as he ran his dark gaze over you. For an instant, the world faded to only the two of you. He straightened and let his current companion’s words fade into the background. Without apology, he strode forward, leaving the man behind.
He had never understood the point of hesitation. If you want something, take it. He dodged every obstacle in his path until he reached your side, the group around you parting to let him through. He was a prince after all.
You were even more intriguing up close. By all appearances, you were a perfect Northern lady. In fact, Oberyn would have been fooled completely if it wasn’t for your eyes. Rather than the coquettish look most maidens looking for husbands wore, your gaze was calculating, intelligent.
He did not wait for an introduction. “Forgive my interruption,” Oberyn said bowing slightly. “There are rumors that we have been graced with the presence of the daughter of House Ainsworth. While I do not always believe rumors, I find myself hoping this one is true.”
He took your hand before you offered it and pressed his lips to your knuckles. He lingered. The Northmen bristled behind him.
“Prince Oberyn Martell,” you greeted, voice cool. “Your reputation proceeds you.”
“I do hope so or else all my hard work would be wasted.” He smiled, holding your gaze over your hand. When he released you, your pupils had dilated. He counted this as a victory.
The others tried to reclaim your attention but you were engaged with Oberyn and soon they drifted away. He talked about anything and everything, soaking in the way you listened. Your intense focus could almost convince him that it was only the two of you in the gardens.
“You are a dangerous man, Prince Oberyn,” you said at last, smile not reaching your eyes. “I have heard many stories of you.”
“Stories so rarely tell the whole truth.” He leaned in. “I hope to disabuse you of your misconceptions.”
“I have not formed any. I prefer to judge a man by his actions, not idle words by jealous men.”
The corner of his lips curled in a smirk. You had a sharp tongue and sharper wit. He was enthralled by both. “If it is action you seek, there is a private garden beyond the reflecting pool where we would not be disturbed. I would consider it a personal favor if you allowed me to show you.”
He had expected a coy rejection, a blush, or even a flustered consent.
Instead, you gave him a small, tight smile. “I do not share private gardens with men I have just met. And lest you get any ideas, I do not share beds with them, either.”
Oberyn leaned closer. “And what about men you know very well?”
You lifted one eyebrow. “The only man that will ever enter my bed is my husband, Prince Oberyn, so you might as well quit wasting our time.”
He inclined his head, acknowledging the game had changed. He liked games. Especially ones with new rules.
“Then at least allow me to escort you on a walk around the gardens. Public areas only, of course,” he said with a smirk and bowed slightly.
You studied him for a long moment before shaking your head with a small smile. “Very well. That would be acceptable.”
As you walked, Oberyn felt the eyes following you, the stories beginning to circulate. He cared not for stories, he only cared for the amazing creature at his side. You had named your terms and he was surprised to find he was more than willing to meet them.
He stopped in a shaded area that caught the breeze. “So, tell me Lady Ainsworth, do all women in your homeland set such high prices on their virtue or is it only you?”
You huffed a humorless laugh. “Women in my homeland are married off at fifteen to breed as many sons as possible. Much as they are everywhere. Or is it different in Dorne?”
His smile faded around the edges. “Not so different, no. Though perhaps they have more of a say than most, it is still less than they should.”
“My father believes I hold more value than life as a broodmare. He would see me married to a man of my choosing. He claims to trust my judgement.” You said it as if it were a challenge.
Oberyn grinned and circled you, not touching, just orbiting. “And whom will you choose?”
“Someone who values me, respects me. Not a brute. Not a child.”
He nodded slowly. “Most men are brutes. Or children. Or cowards.”
“And you, Prince?”
He stopped before you, hands behind his back. “I am many things, my lady. But I am no coward or brute. And I am certainly not a child.”
“I know your reputation,” you said softly. “What do you want from me truly?”
He thought about it. He did. But still the only answer that came to him was, “You.”
You simply looked at him, your lips turning down slightly, and he realized that answer wasn’t enough.
“I want to be the man you choose.” He surprised you and himself with the honesty of the answer. “You do not seek position or money or favor. You only want—”
“A life of my own. Freedom,” you finished. “Is that so impossible?”
He smiled, softer now. “Not with the right man.”
“And you think you can be that man?”
He made a slow, courtly bow, arms spread wide. “If you will have me. I have eight daughters and will never force a single one into a marriage she does not want. I would see the same done for you.”
Your lips twitched. “You flatter yourself if you think that’s enough.”
He straightened. “No, but perhaps it is enough to start. I ask only for a chance to prove myself worthy.”
“Very well, Prince Oberyn. If you wish to court me, you may, but I will not make it easy on you.”
He grinned, all teeth. “I would be disappointed if you did.”