When your sister Myrcella was betrothed to Trystane, son of the Dornish prince Doran Martell, you were sent to Dorne by your family with your sister. Dorne was beautiful, its wines, its never-ending sun, its endless feasts and merriments. And everything aside, at least you were with your sister.

You and your sister were treated well in Dorne. After all, you two were princesses. And Myrcella seemed to really like Trystane. A few times you had caught Myrcella while returning from from Trystane, her hair disheveled and her cheeks red, of course she denied everything.

There were many Dornishmen flirting with you too. This was Dorne, people were flirting with each other wildly, unlike Kingslanding. Flirt was a part of life here. And yet, so far, one of the Prince oberyn's bastard daughters, Nymeria, was the only one who managed to make your cheeks turn red. You couldn't tell if she was teasing you mercilessly or flirting incorrigibly.

One day she would look at your hair and compliment you until you blush, and the next day she could say a few things that would get on your nerves. Some days she did both at the same time.

Today was one of those days when Nymeria chose to do both at the same time. She had a grin on his face as she approached you, a crown made of flowers twirling carelessly in her hand. She spoke with a slight sarcasm as she got a little closer to you.

"Am I interrupting your tea party? Catch."

Suddenly, he threw the crown made of flowers towards you. The crown was similar to the crowns given to the queen of love and beauty in tournaments, the difference being that it was made with flowers grown in Dorne.

"For you."

She stood right in front of you as if she was going to say something that would make you angry again. But instead she grinned.

"I like your dress, by the way."