Dorne in Decay and the Court of King's Landing

The Yronwood family camp.

Lewyn Yronwood accepted the golden crown Tigaro had given him from the Central Dorne nobles who had surrendered to him, then slowly placed it upon his own head.

"Long live the High King of Dorne!" Count Jordayne, who had personally led his troops here, was the first to raise his sword and shout. Before Queen Nymeria unified Dorne, House Jordayne had been a loyal vassal of the Yronwood family. Even after the Martell family had ruled Dorne for centuries, the two families remained close. Almost at the same time, Count Manwoody of Kingsgrave shouted as well. The ancestors of the Manwoody family had once called themselves kings and were said to have slain a Gardener King of the Reach, which was why their sigil was a crowned skull. Unfortunately, the Manwoody family had long since declined. With their lands bordering those of the Yronwood family, they could only survive by attaching themselves to this powerful house.

"Long live the High King of Dorne!" The nobles who had always been vassals of the Yronwood family raised their swords in unison.

"Long live the High King of Dorne!" The Central Dorne lords who had surrendered after Prince Qoren's defeat also raised their longswords. After the mutiny in the camp, they had failed to find the Martell family banners and could only kneel before Lewyn Yronwood in fealty. The most eager among them was the Qorgyle family of Sandstone. Back when the Yronwood family had ruled as kings, House Qorgyle had also been their vassal.

The Yronwood family army suddenly swelled by several thousand men. It was beginning to show the prosperity and strength Dorne had possessed before Nymeria unified it.

Lewyn looked upon the cheering crowd with satisfaction. Firelight flickered, concealing Tigaro's face in shadow. Brimming with contentment, Lewyn raised his wine cup and found Tigaro in a corner.

"Envoy, I have a daughter. She is thirteen this year and has not yet had her first blood. I wonder whether she might be fortunate enough to marry into the Dragonlord's family." He looked drunkenly at Tigaro's face. "If the prince or the princes take a liking to any girl of my house, they may also ask me for her. I respect Valyrian marriage customs."

Tigaro looked at Lewyn with speechless disbelief, but concealed his emotions well.

"Your Majesty, I will need to seek the prince's instructions on such a matter."

"Hahaha, Envoy, give the prince my regards." He raised his cup. "To Prince Lonzell."

Starfall.

After receiving news that Prince Qoren had been defeated by Lewyn Yronwood and that the Borderlands army had wiped out the East Dorne lords' coalition, Ser Albin Dayne, who had imprisoned his own father, finally saw the opportunity he had long dreamed of. His sister Obara Dayne had also sent him what he wanted from High Hermitage.

A crown engraved with rivers.

The young knight impatiently crowned himself, proclaiming himself King of the Torrential River, Albin V of House Dayne. The Blackmont family dared not oppose the powerful Dayne family and could only send an envoy to submit.

Having lost most of its army and its lord, the Uller family went mad once more. That young man, upon whom the family's knights had pinned such high hopes and believed would not be as insane as his father, also made himself a crown. He proclaimed himself King of the Great Desert and Shield of the Sulphur River.

The once-whole Dorne instantly shattered into fragments.

Prince Qoren, who had fled back to Sunspear in disgrace, immediately sent ravens denouncing the three families that had proclaimed themselves kings as rebels and demanding that the lords of Dorne join together to punish them.

But Dorne's division had become a reality. All the Vail family lands had fallen into Lonzell's hands. He announced the exemption of the Dornish people's taxes for the year, adjusted the taxes once levied by the Vail family, reduced the burden on commoners, and purchased vast quantities of grain from Essos to supply the markets of the Borderlands and the newly acquired territories, greatly easing the wounds left by the war.

Sunspear.

Prince Qoren sat wearily in his reclining chair. The shadow of military defeat hung over the city. Even the once-bustling and prosperous mouth of the Greenblood was now sparsely populated, with none of its former prosperity remaining.

"Your Majesty, we still have one path left." Moros Cafferen, Qoren's chief retainer, stood beside his lord and spoke softly.

"Don't tell me we need to bow our heads to the Iron Throne." How could Qoren not know that option? Yet it was no longer very realistic. A Prince of Dorne capable of unifying all of Dorne was a force the Iron Throne could not afford to underestimate, but a Prince of Dorne whose decrees could only be enforced in a quarter of Dorne, or even less, might not even be worth as much as the Yronwood family, which effectively controlled half of Dorne.

"Your Majesty, but what the Iron Throne desires is Dorne's submission, even if only nominal." Moros spoke the harsh reality. "Whether it is Yronwood, Dayne, or Uller, for them to dare openly proclaim themselves kings, their strongest support must come not only from their own strength, but also from outside interference."

"I know." Prince Qoren had known it when Lewyn Yronwood led his cavalry in a surprise attack. Only dragons could have discovered his marching route so precisely without being detected by them. "That young prince must have done quite a bit, then. A divided Dorne is far better for him than a united one, and it gives him enough time to absorb the Vail family's lands. That damned Uller... seven hells."

The moment Prince Qoren thought of the culprit, he felt the urge to kill. That son of a bitch had nearly dragged all of Dorne into the abyss by himself.

"Your Majesty, we can make use of that."

"Hm?" Qoren seemed to think of something. "You mean—"

"What Yronwood and the others can obtain from Prince Lonzell, we can obtain as well. Since Prince Lonzell wants a divided Dorne, then we shall give him a Dorne where rival powers stand side by side." Moros said expressionlessly.

"If he wants a whole Dorne, then he cannot allow any one family to dominate. I understand." Qoren suddenly sighed. "It is a pity Alexandra is too young. Otherwise... wait, Moros, do you have intelligence on Prince Lonzell and the others?"

Moros nodded. "It has long been prepared. Princess Alexandra is seven, while Prince Rey, Prince Lonzell's younger brother, is only thirteen. The age difference is suitable, and Prince Rey has a dragon as well."

"Moros, would you be willing to serve as my envoy, pay a visit to Prince Lonzell, and then travel to King's Landing to seek the Iron Throne's terms?"

"It would be my honor." Moros pressed a hand to his chest.

Smack.

The sound of something falling to the floor came from the room behind them.

Qoren coldly summoned an attendant. "Tell the women of the household to watch Alexandra closely. Until Steward Moros returns, she is not to leave the palace by so much as half a step."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

King's Landing.

The Red Keep, council chamber.

Otto Hightower sat silently in the seat of the Hand of the King, while the ministers of the Small Council also remained silent.

Only when Criston Cole entered the council chamber with the king, his face clearly displeased,

was the silence broken.

"My lords, Dorne has split apart." The king came straight to the point, though everyone could see the delight on his face.

"Our long-cherished wish may finally be realized."

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