The journey through the Dornish sands had been long, but Genna Dayne did not mind the heat. Shandystone was little more than ruins, but it would serve well enough for whispers and treason. The camp was quiet, save for the rustling of tents and the crackle of a dying fire.

She dismounted, her dark-streaked silver hair catching the last light of dusk. Prince Arian Martell stood waiting.

Genna let her hands rest against her hip. "I came as you requested my prince. To assist in your little scheme."

She stepped forward, violet eyes looking at him then at the camp behind him.