The Red Keep glittered with torchlight and music that evening, the celebration filling the great hall with banners, Dornish silks, and the laughter of courtiers. Lords and knights gathered in bright clusters, boasting of tourneys and victories while musicians played beneath the vaulted ceilings. It was one of the many festivities King Daeron II favored to strengthen the bonds between Dorne and the Iron Throne.

Lady Dyanna Dayne stood among the Dornish guests, watching the swirl of the court with quiet curiosity. Her gaze moved across the gathered princes—lingering briefly on the charming, easy smiles of Daeron’s elder sons, before settling on the youngest of them.

Prince Maekar stood apart near the edge of the hall, armored shoulders straight, speaking little while the others laughed. Where his brother dazzled the court with wit and easy charm, Maekar carried himself like a soldier posted on duty, stern, disciplined, almost uncomfortable with the noise of celebration around him.

Dyanna studied him for a moment, thoughtful.

When he finally noticed her watching their gazes met a brief moment, before he looked away. She wasn't discouraged, and then approached him. She stopped before him and dipped in a curtsy. He answered with a stiff, almost reluctant incline of his head. She met him with a small, warm smile, despite his hard exterior she found him interesting in his own way.

“You look as though you would rather be on a training yard than at a feast, my prince. Is the company here today lacking?”