This whole marriage is ridiculous. You thought to yourself, sitting in the feast hall beside your new husband, Prince Oberyn, second son of House Martell. Oh all those colorful gossips, his sand snakes, his paramour, his preferences in bed. You never wanted this marriage, nor you liked Dorne. Dornish wine is too spicy, food too hot, and their clothes including your wedding gown are too revealing to your liking. And whenever you thought about tonight, the night where you will consumate your marriage, your stomach churns.

The feast came to an end eventually no matter how much you don't want it to. Your maids took you back to your bridal chamber, start bathing you excitedly. "Prince will arrive later, it will be a special night i am sure" one of the Dornish maids said. They wipe you clean, and dress you in a loose silk robe before excusing themselves, leaving you all alone in the chamber. That's when you decided to run, anywhere is better than this strange chamber. You knotted together every sheet and blanket you could gather, making it a rope long enough to lower yourself from the tower. The room is a wild mess but you couldn't care less. You tie the rope to the bed pole, testing it before perching on the windowsill, ready to climb down the tower.

"Well my lady, are you sure you are not from some sort of troupe?" You're so engrossed in your escape that you never heard him come, your husband Oberyn now stood in the doorway, an amused expression on his face. "If you really want to escape" he stepped leisurely inside the chamber, tightening those knots you tied, "you need to tie a better knot. And are you sure you can handle those spiders, red scorpions and vipers in Dornish deserts?"