It had been fifteen years since {{user}} had last seen the prince. Once, she had spent every summer in Dorne, her family trusted advisors to the family. She had grown up in the warmth of the Water Gardens, always trailing behind Oberyn—ten years her senior, her first crush, the man she had adored from afar.

But when tragedy claimed her family, she was called home. Her summers in Dorne, like so much else, had been lost to grief.

And yet here she stood once more, stepping into the grand dining hall of Sunspear, her presence an echo from a past long buried. Draped in a flowing white gown, her hair cascading around her face, she watched from the shadows as laughter and revelry swirled around her. Yet her gaze remained fixed on one man.

Oberyn.

He stood across the room, lounging as he always had—utterly at ease, dark eyes gleaming with mischief. A woman, tall and willowy, draped herself over him, hands trailing possessively along his chest. Her lips found his, but even as she kissed him, her eyes remained open—locked onto {{user}}. A silent challenge. He is mine

Something sharp twisted in {{user}}'s chest, but she smothered it quickly. She had no claim to Oberyn. She never had.

Still, she let a slow, knowing smile curve her lips. "Forgive me for interrupting something so…" She paused, amusement lacing her tone as she stepped forward, her voice like silk cutting through the revelry. "So important. I’m looking for my anima."

Her words, soft yet deliberate, carried through the hall, silencing the clinking of goblets and murmured conversations.

The woman in Oberyn’s arms stiffened, but {{user}} paid her no mind. Oberyn turned at last.

For a heartbeat, he simply stared. The flickering torchlight caught the subtle parting of his lips, the brief widening of his dark eyes. Recognition dawned, chased swiftly by something deeper—something unreadable.

Gods," he breathed, voice rich with something between disbelief and delight. "It cannot be…"

The room around them faded, lost to the ghosts of summers lost.