Sigh.
Apart from Doran, it could be said that hardly any noble in all of Dorne had ever seen Viserys. When the Dornish army poured into the city, Viserys and Daenerys landed directly in front of Doran's tent.
The nobles who saw the dragon looked visibly nervous.
Doran suddenly noticed Quentyn climbing down from the dragon's back and thought, for a moment, that he must have been mistaken in the dim light. But as Quentyn came closer, Doran realized that his son had truly ridden the dragon.
'That's right. House Martell once had a marriage alliance with the Targaryens,' Doran reminded himself. 'This is completely possible. But first, I must speak to Viserys... I'll suppress my curiosity and excitement for now.'
"Your Grace Viserys!" Doran called, with the help of his attendants, bowing low while the other nobles went down on one knee.
Viserys quickly moved to help Doran rise. "Prince, there's no need for such formalities. I know you're worried about Oberyn's safety, so I came as quickly as I could. But rest assured, he's in no danger. For now, Ned Stark is guarding King's Landing for Robert."
Doran exhaled in relief upon hearing that Ned Stark was in charge of King's Landing. Of all the men in the Seven Kingdoms, Ned Stark had the highest moral standards. Even if King's Landing were to fall, he wouldn't hold the life of the Red Viper hostage.
...
As the sun began to set, Viserys decided to stay the night in Nightsong with Daenerys.
"We fought alongside a Dragonlord and seized Nightsong. We should celebrate!" declared a nobleman with a neatly trimmed beard and arms thicker than most. It was Lord Anders Yronwood, Quentyn's adoptive father. He had just seen Quentyn climb down from the dragon and was visibly proud.
All eyes turned to Viserys, waiting for his decision. A small celebration seemed perfectly reasonable at this point.
Viserys spoke up: "Without the Dornish army, it would have been much more difficult to capture Nightsong, even with dragons. I want to visit the soldiers who were wounded in battle. They deserve to share in the joy of victory with us!"
His proposal was met with widespread approval, especially from the Lords of the Dornish Marches, who lived on the border between Dorne, the Reach, and the Stormlands. Even in times of peace, skirmishes were common in their lands. They were moved by Viserys' thoughtfulness.
Lord Yronwood, who had just proposed the banquet, was among them. His fiefdom lay near the Red Mountains, where savage clans frequently attacked. Every generation of House Yronwood had lost someone to the clans, so Viserys' words resonated deeply with him.
Though Doran felt a hint of wariness toward Viserys' sudden kindness, he knew he could not refuse at this moment.
What none of them expected, however, was that Viserys would personally join in transporting the wounded soldiers. He even helped carry stretchers himself!
"Your Grace, Your Grace, I don't deserve this! I don't deserve this!" the wounded soldier exclaimed, overwhelmed with emotion.
When the soldiers being transported saw that Viserys himself was carrying the stretcher, they struggled to get off, but Viserys quickly rebuked them.
"All right! Lie still. I still have to go back and help carry the others!" he said firmly, while checking the soldier's injuries.
Despite the reprimand, the soldier could feel Viserys' genuine concern. He hadn't made a sound when his shoulder had been crushed in battle, but upon realizing it was the king who was tending to him, he couldn't hold back his tears. He now only regretted that his injuries prevented him from fighting any longer in service of Viserys. The thought of never lifting his sword again weighed heavily on him.
Under Viserys' command, the group managed to settle all the wounded in Nightsong before the sun set.
"Prince," Viserys addressed Doran, "when the time comes, I would be grateful if you could provide me with a list of the names of the soldiers who were killed or injured, so that I can arrange for their compensation. As for those who died in battle, I will personally see to it that all their children are taken in at Tyrosh! Spread the word—these rewards and protections apply to all of them!"
Doran nodded but could not help reflecting. 'Yes, if this were merely about reassuring the soldiers and putting on a show, even I could do that,' he thought. 'But compensating them according to Viserys' standards... do I have the financial resources for such generosity?'
He understood well enough that Viserys was using these gestures to increase the royal family's influence in Dorne. Yet, there was no way to refuse, for it was a political maneuver steeped in power.
When the soldiers learned of Viserys' decision, they were filled with renewed strength. Some even itched to march on Storm's End immediately. The cheers in Nightsong were so loud that they seemed to shake the very moon, which had just risen over the horizon.
...
Later, at the banquet, Viserys sat with Daenerys, Doran to his right, and Quentyn to his left. The nobles of Dorne were seated on either side of them.
As Viserys and Daenerys surveyed the gathering, their attention was drawn to a young lord with light blonde hair, no older than twelve or thirteen. His shy demeanor made him stand out among the others. The boy kept stealing glances at Viserys, unable to muster the courage to speak.
"Prince, is that Edric of House Dayne?" Viserys asked, recalling what he knew of the family.
House Dayne had a similar appearance to House Targaryen, with many of their members sharing violet-colored eyes. And then there was the legendary swordsman Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, who died in Rhaegar's name at the Tower of Joy. Viserys had always paid close attention to such a family.
"Yes, Your Grace," Doran replied, "that is Edric. He just turned eleven this year."
Viserys waved at the boy, and Edric, though a bit awkward, blinked in surprise. Encouraged by the people around him, the young lord hesitantly approached. Despite his age, Edric was already wearing a purple cloak, though he looked small for his years. Nearly everyone in the room turned their gaze toward him, which only made Edric more nervous.
"I am Edric of House Dayne, Your Grace," he stammered, bowing awkwardly. "And Prince and Princess Daenerys."
Viserys studied the boy, realizing that Edric must have been born after Arthur Dayne's death. With the entire assembly watching, Viserys reached into his cloak and pulled out two gold bracelets, inlaid with dragon scales and precious stones.
"Back in Braavos, Ser Willem often told me stories of the Sword of the Morning," Viserys began.
"The swordsmen of House Dayne were admired even in the Free Cities across the Narrow Sea." He extended one of the bracelets to Edric. "Edric, this bracelet, inlaid with dragon scales, is for you. Do not dishonor House Dayne."
"A bracelet inlaid with dragon scales!"
The nobles in the room gasped in awe. Even a simple gold bracelet inlaid with precious stones would have been enough to make them envious. But one inlaid with dragon scales? It was beyond rare, and the room buzzed with admiration. Many of the lords couldn't help but glance at the bracelet with a hint of desire, their thoughts clear: I want one too!