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JON
They were about to break their fast when Myriah got summoned by the Targaryen Queen, leaving her son and husband under the supervision of Edrick's septa, who kept a closer eye on Jon than on the little boy. Therefore Edrick was yet again running wild until his father gave him a light rebuke, which only made him squeeze out as many tears as possible, trying to arise Jon's pity, but the King remained unyielding. After his unspeakable behavior at the breakfast table, Jon had little patience left to deal with the prince any further. Because that's what he was, a sweet but spoiled little Prince.
Of course, the first thing Myriah did upon her return was to pull the boy into her arms and shower him with kisses. Still, she seemed lost in her thoughts. She sat down on his lap in silence and took his hand, her fingers tracing along the lines on his palm. Whatever words had been spoken between her and Daenerys appeared to trouble her ever so.
"Do you intend to tell me what caused your weary head or am I a fool to ask?" Jon smirked as he put his arm around her even closer.
Myriah shut her eyes for a second and smiled a wry smile. "Daenerys is dangerously close to her doom. Her Ironborn allies got attacked on their way to Dorne. It is said that Euron Greyjoy burned most of their fleet down and that the number of survivors seems to rather low. Few ships managed to escape, but not the important one."
Her explanation made little sense to him since he had no clue what their initial intentions in Dorne were. To be honest, Jon had not the faintest notion of Myriah's politics at all. "And what does that mean for you?"
"For us, it means that Daenerys will soon approach us, trying to strengthen the bond between our houses. Her offer will surely be more beneficial to us than the previous ones - should we consider those as offers." She hesitated. "For me, it is yet another source of conflict. Three of my cousins were on board, and Ellaria Sand as well. If they are not dead yet, then they will be soon. I ought to tell Elia."
"Did you mean to put them to justice?" Jon asked, realizing of whom she was talking about, "After what they've done?"
"I did, but then I didn't. Now I'm unsure if I should feel relieved for not having to justify myself in front of my bannermen or if I should grieve for the loss of yet any more family members."
When Jon had heard that Doran and Trystane Martell had been murdered by their own blood and that it was up to Myriah to decide over their fate, he had not wished to trade places with her. Now, it seemed to have worsened. "Wouldn't you have grieved over their loss either way? At least now their death is not on you." He attempted to cheer her up. Though he had supposed that her treacherous cousins meant only little to her, Myriah's face displayed more sorrow than expected. He kissed her cheek. "Why was the Iron Fleet on its way to Dorne again?"
