The market square was alive with color and sound, the scent of spiced wine and roasted almonds hanging in the warm Dornish air. Tanselle moved with practiced ease, guiding the painted puppets through their tale—a knight facing a dragon, the string-bound warrior standing brave beneath the beast’s wooden maw.

Then, she saw him.

A tall knight stood among the gathered crowd, broader than the others, his height unmistakable even from a distance. Her fingers nearly faltered on the strings.

"Not too tall for him."

She thought and forced herself to focus on the show, but a small smirk lingered on her lips.