The Water Gardens.
This place and the filth and chaos of Planky Town were like two different worlds.
Clear fountains sang in exquisitely carved stone pools, their droplets refracting rainbow light in the afternoon sun before falling into the water with a pleasant tinkling.
Ancient palms and lemon trees flourished, casting broad swaths of cool green shade across the courtyards and giving off a refreshing fragrance.
The damp air was filled with mist and the sweet scent of flowers and fruit, and it was quiet enough to hear the faint beating of hummingbirds' wings.
Yet this peaceful scene did nothing to calm the storm raging in Arianne Martell's heart.
She wore a plain linen dress, her wet hair plastered haphazardly against her temples and neck. Clearly, she had only just-
been given a cursory wash when she was brought here.
But the fury and humiliation burning in those amber eyes were more glaring than any stain.
She stood beside the largest fountain pool, her body as taut as a fully drawn bow, staring fixedly at the figure in the wheelchair-her father, Prince Doran Martell.
Prince Doran wore a loose beige silk robe, his swollen hands, covered in age spots, resting on his knees beneath a heavy blanket.
He looked older and more exhausted than when they had last met, but beneath his sagging eyelids, his eyes remained fathomless.
He calmly watched his daughter, who stood before him radiating defiance and anger.
"Father?"
Arianne's voice broke the silence first. "Is this how you welcome your daughter home? By staging a brawl at the docks?"
Prince Doran slowly raised a hand, signaling her to be silent.
"Welcome? Arianne, you plotted to drag Dorne into a foolish war, kidnapped Jon Snow, and tried to set all of Westeros ablaze. Does that deserve welcoming