292AC
The prince of Dorne watched Impassively as the eldest prince of Dragonstone entered the study. The boy was clearly exhausted and smelled of something like sulfur. 'Probably part of his weapon.'
He had heard about the attempted assassination from his men as soon as they had sent word to the castle, well ahead of Arianne and Arthur with their bodyguards. Even now his men-at-arms were moving through the city to the three present temples of R'hllor. They would be shut down and held closed for the time being, while his men went through their correspondence.
If this was more than a single mad priest he would know by this evening.
"Prince Doran," The Young Baratheon said, steeping up in front of him. "You asked to see me?"
"Yes, take a seat, please." Doran gestured to one of the wooden chairs that decorated the study. "I heard what happened, and I'd like to apologize on behalf of my guards, they should have been in place to prevent that man from ever getting that close."
He watched the boy carefully, gauging his response. "I accept your apology, Prince Doran. I admit that it was rather terrifying, but I would see nothing else come of it if I might. Only the perpetrator ended up dead as a result."
Doran nodded slightly, looking the boy in the eye. "Indeed, but it was still a failure on my part to ensure my city's safety. If you wish to have some of your own men stay with you after this I will take it as no offense, though we have already found the perpetrators home and identity. One Leandros, priest of Rh'llor at the temple on the outer edge of the second ring of the Shadow City." And what an inconvenience that was. If it had only been a damp foreigner he could just ban any more from coming, but now he had to crack down on the cult properly. "You can rest assured my men are already following leads on why he was trying to kill you."
The boy nodded seriously at that, before speaking again. "May I borrow your Ravens? I will need to send letters to my uncle and father informing them of the situation."
Doran felt the urge to grimace, the last thing he wanted was a load of scrutiny from the king and master of ships. Not to mention that the Rh'llorites were tangled up in that mess with…
'Ah…' He thought finally, yes, that would do as an excuse for it, even if his men found no direct instructions from the foreign parts of the cult. "Of course, feel free to use them. I believe I may know the reason for this attempt already though."
"Oh?" the boy asked, looking towards him from the window.
"Yes. I have heard rumors that Viserys Targaryen and his sister have been taken in by the cult of Rh'llor. It is possible that the cult has aligned itself with the Targaryen claim."
If the boy was surprised, it didn't show on his face, he simply nodded. "I will inform my father and the king."
As he turned to leave, Doran raised a hand. "Ah, please wait a moment, there is something else I would like to discuss with you."
The boy stopped, turning towards him with a suspicious gaze. "What's that?"
Doran let out a deep sigh, "I suppose Arianne has told you that I do not wish the two of you to be wed?"
The boy nodded, his gaze sharpening once more. "Yes, she has."
"I am afraid that is incorrect, though it is what she believes, unfortunately. Tell me, did you find anything strange about your betrothal letter?"
"I take it you did not want it sent then?"
"I did actually, or it wouldn't have been, but you see it caused a bit of a situation here at Sunspear. Because in trying to send that letter out without my permission, three of my nieces significantly overstepped their boundaries. I needed to be able to punish them for it, so I have since pretended as if I disapproved."
He watched as Prince Arthur ran a hand down his face. "That seems… inordinately complicated."
"Yes well, the group of them and Arianne do wield a large, perhaps too large, amount of clout between them all, and in their attempt to evade their punishment they further overstepped their bounds. It is a messy and unfortunate situation." Doran smiled at the boy. "But, it is also none of your concern in truth, I merely wished to make clear that I do believe that you are a fitting match for my daughter. If anything, last night and today have only proven that further."
The young Stag stopped for a moment, as if in thought, but then smiled pleasantly. "I'm glad to hear that," he said happily. "Do you have anything else you'd like to speak about?"
"No, I believe that's all," he said, and the boy took it as his cue to leave.
Doran smiled, reclining in his chair. The Prince was indeed young and resilient, though that resilience was in its own way unfortunate.
He doubted that he could prompt him to betray his uncle so easily, as expected of a child of the man who held Storms End half-starved.
'Then again.' Doran played with his hair. 'Robert won't live forever.'
If the rumors that circled from King's Landing were true, the young prince Joffrey was a cruel little shit, with an antagonistic relation to his cousin.
It might not happen during Doran's lifetime, but he doubted that the boy would last, especially with Aery's example so fresh in the Kingdom's mind.
And then who better to rule than young Arthur, especially when married into a Princely house?
Yes, he could see it.
Perhaps his daughter still might sit the iron throne after all.