Tournament of Crowns: Gods Among Titans

Five

BRANDETH

I have managed to keep my anger against Anaysha to the point where I didn't have to do anything too homicidal and rash. Do I still hold a flaming torch against her and want her to be executed for her crimes? Sure, but there's no point in bending over backwards to beckon her back to the Iron Islands. Either I'll make devious threats against her to force her to come back here and face her consequences—the consequences in which her head will be on a silver platter—or I'll wage war against the kingdom she seeks sanctuary in, destroying the land around her and maybe even killing her along the way. Overall, there really isn't any point in going out of my way to drag my stubborn daughter back here. Not when I know that the threat of Oberyn Martell looms behind her.

I was sitting in a giant congregation room where we typically had our military planning sessions before our many conquests and any emergency meetings. My eldest Crodell decided to join me and have a heart-to-heart with me about his cousin's wedding. Perhaps he really enjoyed attending the wedding in Dorne. My wife, who had just entered the room from attending to the ill Brealla, had also joined us to—I assume—also talk about the wedding ceremony in Godsgrace.

"How is Brealla?" I asked in a concerned tone.

She smiled. "She'll be fine. She just came down with a dastardly case of influenza and a high fever while we were away, which caused her to be subjected to bedrest by our handmaidens. They say she'll be back to herself most likely in the morning. Thank God for that."

She sat down at the large table to join me and Crodell, whose stone-faced expression made him emotionless at this moment in time. It reminded me of myself in a way, and not just because he looked almost exactly like me. Then again, all of my sons bore a strong resemblance to me. It's all in the Mullendore-Sparr family lineages. All of the sons looked almost like their father, and all the daughters looked almost like their mother. Well, except for Anaysha, who somehow got the best of both worlds at a perfect balance and bore a strong resemblance to both me and her mother.

"The wedding was absolutely fantastic, wasn't it?" I asked, starting it off.

"It sure was, dear. It was satisfying to see Sabas and Taliya so happy and so in love," Giyana commented.

"Speaking of seeing someone so happy and in love, I could've sworn I saw Anaysha there as well," Crodell spoke.

I turned my head to look deep into his dark eyes. "Really?"

"Yes. And it looked like she was on the arm of one of the princes there," Crodell answered back.

Giyana and I exchanged glances with each other before continuing to look upon Crodell. He, not once, broke from the pressure of people staring at him.

That's my boy, I thought.

"You thought you saw Anaysha?" I asked.

"I'm almost sure I did. And she was getting awfully cozy with Oberyn Martell," Crodell explained.

My brows furrowed. "And you're sure she looked like Anaysha?"

"She fit the description perfectly," Crodell started. "Dark brown eyes, dark brown hair...I think it fits the description."

I glanced over to my wife, who was oddly quiet through all this. "It sure sounds like her, doesn't it?"

"It does, but it doesn't mean anything, Brandeth," she voiced. "It could be anyone."

"Crodell, you have to be absolutely sure that you saw your sister. Otherwise, it will not end up well for you," I warned.

His face didn't break one bit, his eyes remaining completely focused on mine. "I swear on my God-given life, Father, that I saw someone who looked like her on the arm of the crown prince of Dorne. You can count on my word because I cannot lie about what I saw there."