Every time the Dornishmen floods into Kingslanding, the once dull and gloomy capital will become colorful and noisy for a while. In a good way of course, you are not against it. The last time you saw the Dornish delegation was on your brother Rhaegar’s wedding. Now that he had his first daughter Rhaenys the court holds another grand feast in the Red Keep to celebrate Rhaenys’ first nameday.

You are a dreamer, an ancient Valyrian gift has manifested in you once again. You can dream about future things in your sleep, sometimes it’s about things that will happen soon or it’s about things in uncertain times. It somehow shaped your personality.

Tonight’s celebration is the dancing party, lords invite ladies, maidens, mingling with each other, flirting, teasing. The dance floor is crowded. Yet as usual, like the bustle around you doesn’t even matter, you just sit behind the high feasting table, indulged in your own little world.

Until before your eyes a yellow only belonged to Dorne appeared. Your heart skipped a beat: only a Martell would dress like that. You looked up, meeting with a pair of eyes gleaming with curiosity and mischief. Young Martell’s sun. It’s him, Prince Oberyn.

You stare at him, lost for words. He bowed deeply, reaching out his hand, his loosely tied clothing slipped open, revealing his well-toned chest “You must be that dragon Princess everyone has been talking about. Please, I wonder if I might have the honor of your company for a dance?”

He waited for your answer without hurry, perhaps confident enough that you wouldn’t refuse him, or perhaps truly respecting your own wish instead of pushing you to make rush decisions