An argument

The result of the match was never in doubt. The illustrious Prince of Dorne was practically ground into the dirt by Ghost. Apart from occasionally scoring in the épée bout, Oberyn lost so badly in foil and saber that it was painful to watch.

Still, Ghost knew that Oberyn was probably going easy on him. In a fight to the death, he probably would not have lasted more than a few seconds.

Besides, Oberyn was a famously skilled poisoner... Just thinking about the Game of Thrones show made him angry. Why did you have to take the Mountain head-on? Couldn't you just have waited for him to die from the poison?

Far too reckless...

The main purpose of this fencing match was to win the wager with Oberyn Martell (Elia, Oberyn, and Ghost had made a small bet beforehand). So Ghost had not used the scoring system of the later Olympic Games, instead simplifying it into a best-of-five format, with the first to twenty points winning.

Unfamiliarity with the rules was only part of it. Rhaenys also matched him in the speed and reflexes he took such pride in, and admiration and delight had already appeared in Prince Oberyn's eyes.

Although he could never have lost in actual combat, faced with a beauty like Rhaenys, who was also the future queen, he had to behave like a gentleman.

Oberyn was not disheartened either. He smiled and congratulated Ghost. "As expected of Prince Rhaegar's betrothed. Your fencing skills are exquisite. This swordsmanship would be formidable even in real combat, wouldn't it?"

Rhaenys put away her sword as well. She looked strong and confident, her beautiful purple eyes sparkling with excitement. "It still falls a little short when adapted for real combat. After all, flexible blades are primarily intended for competition."

After several bouts, everyone present was dazzled and enthralled. They had never expected this kind of fencing to be so exciting to watch. But the greatest surprise was Princess Rhaenys herself. Her fencing skills could not have been acquired in a short time.

Some harbored doubts, believing that the Dornishman had lost deliberately, hoping to curry favor with Prince Rhaegar by pleasing Rhaenys. After all, a woman could not possibly beat a man at swordsmanship.

Rhaegar sank into thought. He began to wonder about his betrothed's experiences-what circumstances had led her to acquire such fine skills? Had he taken the field instead of the Red Viper, the outcome probably would not have changed.

Those gazes of surprise, admiration, and ulterior intent all settled on the young, beautiful, and lively Princess Rhaenys. A venomous snake named jealousy hissed in Cersei's heart.

She clutched Prince Rhaegar's arm tightly and spoke loudly to attract his attention. "How could the prince's betrothed be such a woman? Sweating and fighting like some boorish man..."

Rhaegar ignored her, but Jon Darry of the Kingsguard, standing beside him, spoke up in disagreement. "Lady Cersei, you don't understand. A woman with such skills deserves all the more admiration."

It was said that in the Free Cities on the other continent, especially Braavos, there were secretive orders of assassins who specialized in the art of assassination. Many of their cold, merciless master assassins were women...

He actually called her ignorant... Cersei gritted her teeth in hatred and glared at Jon, then shot Ghost a vicious look.

She loathed women who were beautiful and loved showing off.

Ghost and Oberyn had already changed clothes and were keeping the king company in conversation. The king was in a good mood and even teased the Dornishman about his lack of skill. Oberyn took no offense, seizing the opportunity to flatter the true dragon blood of House Targaryen until King Aerys's expression grew considerably more pleasant.

King Aerys praised Rhaenys a little and granted her request to build a fencing hall in the noble quarter of King's Landing, then departed with his Kingsguard.

The nobles gathered in twos and threes, striking up curious conversations with Ghost, Elia, and the others.

Many of the young people were very interested in the fencing competition and even took to the floor to try a few bouts themselves. They were also curious about Ghost's skills, asking who his teacher was, whether he would be willing to teach classes in King's Landing, and so on.

With a slightly apologetic air, Ghost explained (making it up) that his teacher was a wandering swordsman roaming Essos.

As for fencing lessons and a fencing hall catering to nobles, those would be decided by the prince. (Anyone hoping to profit from it or invest could go to Prince Rhaegar.)

The nobles surged over to surround Rhaegar, catching him somewhat off guard. Ghost strolled over and addressed Cersei, who was clinging to Rhaegar. "My lady, would you please let go of my betrothed?"

He tilted his head and teased with a smile, "I quite understand Prince Rhaegar's charm, but I hope you can spare a thought for his betrothed's little pang of jealousy."

Everyone laughed good-naturedly, looking eager to enjoy the spectacle. Cersei flushed scarlet and reluctantly released Rhaegar, returning to her father's side.

Ghost promptly took her former place and slipped his arm through the prince's, casting a challenging glance at Cersei for good measure.

Prince Rhaegar looked down at Ghost... amusement in his eyes.

Cersei's face twisted with rage. She looked ready to rush over again, but a single glance from Tywin pinned her in place. The Lord Hand came over to bid the prince a courteous farewell. He did not so much as look at Ghost before leaving, as though he did not exist.

Now it was Ghost's turn to seethe. Truly, the Lannisters lived up to their arrogance.

After leaving the fencing hall, Ghost hurriedly released Rhaegar's arm. He had worked up a moment of reckless courage to anger Cersei, but now that they were alone, his courage shrank away again.

Rhaegar caught Ghost's hand in turn and said slowly, "Don't you intend to give me an explanation?"

Unable to break free of the prince's grip, Ghost turned his head away sulkily. "There's no explanation. I don't want to talk to you."

Rhaegar found this rather novel. No woman had ever treated him like this before. Recalling how she had left Cersei speechless earlier, he had now seen the fiery side of her personality.

She was growing bolder. Not only had she put together something like this behind his back and privately arranged a match with Oberyn, but she even dared lose her temper with him... The more the prince thought about it, the angrier he became, and his feelings unwittingly crept into his voice.

"Do you admire that Dornish womanizer so much that you arranged a fencing competition just to entertain him?"

Ghost turned his head and demanded incredulously, "Bull-no, who the hell did it for him? Don't point fingers at me. Aren't you carrying on with Cersei yourself?"

"No vulgar language!" Rhaegar's face stiffened, his expression stern. "There is nothing between Cersei and me. She's still a child."

Ghost laughed in anger. "A child? She's practically growing out of your body."

Rhaegar released his hand, his thin lips pressed tightly together. Their conversation had become confused and pointless. As his future wife, shouldn't Rhaenys trust him?

The king was causing chaos every day now, treating affairs of state like a game to humiliate Tywin. He truly did not want to waste time on women's pointless jealous squabbles.

"I don't think we should discuss such a meaningless subject any further," Rhaegar said coldly. "We are already betrothed. You alone will be my wife. Everyone else is irrelevant."

After a pause, he added, "I won't interfere with whomever you grow close to, as long as you don't take things too far."

With that, the prince turned and strode away. A small squad of Gold Cloaks hurried after him. Arthur Dayne, Jon, and the others followed close behind in white armor and white cloaks.

A quiet word of praise drifted through the wind. "Well fought."

Ghost's face was bloodless, and he was somewhat dazed. The prince's final words had struck like a whip, leaving his heart aching with hurt.

What was he implying? What sort of person did he take him for? Someone who lived as dissolutely as a medieval noble?

How had things come to this? All he had wanted in the first place was to stop Prince Rhaegar from dueling anyone else again...

He realized that he did not understand Rhaegar at all, much less the attitude he had displayed. Did he see marriage as nothing more than a task that had to be completed? Did feelings mean nothing?

"Ahem..." Oberyn's voice reached him. Ghost hurriedly wiped his face clean and straightened up, pretending that nothing had happened.