A WEEK AFTER Nessie returned, a fleet of ships arrived on the waters of Kings Landing. It was an envoy from Dorne, come to stay for a few weeks. The Martell family had come on the business of weddings. First, the Queen of Dorne and her husband had boarded from the regal ships, while Nessie and her family stood lined up on the stairs, watching their arrival. They were immediately followed their children: Doran, Oberyn, and Elia, who was to be wed to Rhaegar, along with Oberyn's bastard daughters. He had only brought his eldest two, Obara, who was rough and scared Nessie a little bit, and her younger sister, who looked like a sunset dream and introduced herself as "Nym".
She had hair like ebony and skin the colour of gentle gold sand. Her eyes were dark and slim, like cuts of dragonglass which twinkled with delight and mischief. Her legs were long for her age—not as long as Nessie's, but they were smooth and muscular and ran into her body like a gentle waterfall. Nesaela had thought she was one of the most beautiful girls she had seen. Far more beautiful than any man her father had hoped to betroth her to: prettier than the Knight of Flowers, or any Stark son. Nym was eleven too, the same as Nessie.
They had spent all the time Nym had at Kings Landing together: running and shooting bows in the forest, far away from their fathers, and Nym had taught her how to climb trees faster than she ever had before. They'd spent their days swinging on branches and adventuring into the rocky caves of the castle's cliffs, and one night in the corridors of Kings Landing, Nesaela kissed her. It was a small peck, innocent enough, and Nym had only retuned a smile and another kiss.
It was short and sweet, but Nym tasted like sand and smoke and wildness. Part of Nessie had wanted to ask if Nym could steal her back away to Dorne, where she could ride horses through the sand and be treated as equally as a man beside her. Nym and her father could have put a spear in Nessie's hand and let them fight alongside them.
But she knew the dream was foolish. She was the princess of Kings Landing, and Nym was the princess of Dorne: two entirely different worlds; two sides of the same coin. She wished she could have a home on Dorne, and bury her feet between the orange sands, beneath the red sun, but it was a silly child's dream. And so instead, she'd let Nym play with Nesaela's fancy dress, giggling at its unnecessary nature, and braid coils into her silver hair.
