"It's a pity, but Prince Doran would rather have me win glory for House Martell on the battlefield."
The War Artist sighed, sounding helpless. He said earnestly, "War isn't some knightly game from childhood. And this time, the Seven Kingdoms are facing the legendary White Walkers, Princess Martell. I'm doing this for your own good."
As he tried to persuade her, Pufferfish Lord thought that the battlefield was indeed the easiest place to earn honor—but also the easiest place to lose it. He even worried that the White Walker army would frighten Arianne away.
Though he was somewhat looking forward to such a sight, he was, after all, the Lord Hand of the Seven Kingdoms. He did not wish to see a small council member mocked by the Seven Kingdoms. The Reach had never liked its neighbor Dorne, but Lord Hand Mace thought this was a matter between himself and Prince Doran, one that had nothing to do with Arianne, the heir, for the time being.
Stroking his beard, Lord Hand Mace could not help feeling moved by his own magnanimity.
He continued, "Do you know how many troops His Majesty intends to mobilize this time? Not a hundred thousand, nor two hundred thousand, but at least three hundred thousand—and that doesn't even include the forces from the North. The men you brought... ah, they should stay behind to protect you—"
Lord Hand Mace was interrupted as Princess Arianne broke into a grin. "Oh, Lord Hand, I haven't finished yet. Dorne's twenty thousand troops will arrive within ten days at most. I merely set out early because of a personal matter."
Twenty thousand? Twenty thousand?!
Lord Hand Mace thought Arianne was lying. As Dorne's neighbor, he knew its strength well. Were they truly so... loyal?
"Prince Doran doesn't intend to—ah,