The Manse of the Late Ollo Tregario

[Horas]

The guard captain, an aged bravo with a scar across the bridge of his nose, sniffs. "Lord Ravelto does not permit men he does not know inside his walls, particularly in such great numbers. You may enter with an escort of one or two, as is appropriate, but no more."

[brigida]

The woman nodded, "I regret to say, then, that I cannot accept the invitation. Please convey my apologies." she nodded to the captain of the large guard, and the formation began to retreat, with her at its center.

[Horas]

The bravo mutters something under his breath about idiotic foreigners, then waves his hand. "Then shoo, and stop wasting my time."

[brigida]

The same woman, differently garbed returned the next morning at the same grey hour, with a rueful smile as she found herself confronted by the same man as yesterday had brought. "I am back again--did you miss me?" she asked.

[Horas]

"You again?" The guardsman snorts, "What happened to all of your friends?"

He shakes his head, then gestures at the gatesman to open the gates. "You are still welcome, for whatever reason. Delke will show you the way." A manservant appears, and begins to lead the way, making sure the woman follows.

[brigida]

She heaved a deep, quiet breath as she passed through the gates, her smile giving way to a stern expression as she followed the bravo into the expansive home.

[Horas]

The servant leads the woman through an elegant garden into the manse itself. Though it shows signs of great wealth, it pales in comparison to the New Palace of the Sea Lord.

They come to a door with two bravos lounging at the entrance. The servant opens it and beckons the woman in, then closes the door behind her.

The room has no windows, but a fire in the hearth and plenty of candles provides adequate light. The walls are lined with bookshelves. Lord Horas Blackwood sits at a reading desk, a book open before him, sipping out of a small silver flask. Four heavies, these having a distinctive Westerosi look, stand at attention in the corners of the room.

Horas raises a single eyebrow as his wife enters the room. "Tristeza," he says calmly, closing his book.

[brigida]

Trsteza closed her eyes in disappointment as she saw the guards who lined the walls, "You will dismiss them, please" she said, "What I must say is not fit for the ears of any man but you--they may take with them my weapons if it pleases you."

[Horas]

Horas says nothing for a moment, his face a stone mask. Then he nods once. The guards depart, but not before taking Tristeza's weapons, including her daggers.

"I am curious as to why you felt you required a force of several dozen guardsmen to meet with me and an explicit promise that I would not harm or detain you. Quite curious."

[brigida]

"I understand your curiosity; it is completely warranted," she answered, "I brought the guard to be sure I could match or overtake whatever guard you would have--you are always surrounded by large numbers in some capacity--it was to ensure my safe departure, as was my need of your word to let me go freely." she took a seat near the expansive fire-place, her brow furrowed, and her lips pursed in thought.

Folding her arms, she continued, "There is a good chance you are already aware of the proposition I have made to Lord Smith."

[Horas]

"There are dozens of rumors," Horas replies, "But I would hear the truth from your own mouth."

[brigida]

Tristeza nodded, almost to herself, as though she had not even heard him; "I would have Dorne restored to House Martell--I would have our son inherit the title he is due...Lord Smith has taken this sentiment to the King--the exchange would be my life, for my Kingdom--and in my absence, Horas would be raised in King's Landing, by the court."

[Horas]

Another silence. Lord Blackwood watches the flames dance in the hearth. Then, softly: "This is a price you are willing to pay?"

[brigida]

"Eager to pay, even," she answered.

[Horas]

"Does your life mean so little to you, Tristeza? It is something I value, even if you do not."