Chapter 411: The Duke of Dorne

The autumn air brought little relief from the heat of Dorne.

The blazing sun cast its golden light over the yellow land, baking it relentlessly. Only the sea breeze from the Narrow Sea provided a slight reprieve from the stifling weather.

The Spear Tower and the Sun Tower, both iconic of Rhoynar architecture, rose tall on either side of the Old Palace. These towers symbolized the union of the Martell spear and the Rhoynar sun.

Today, the noble lords and ladies of Dorne gathered in the throne hall of the Sun Tower to witness a momentous transformation in Dorne's political landscape and the rise of its new ruler.

The Sun Tower's lofty hall featured a golden dome and leaded glass windows. Sunlight streamed through the circular dome above, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the pale marble floor.

Two nearly identical thrones once stood atop the dais in the hall. One bore the golden spear of House Martell, while the other displayed the sunburst of Rhoynar heritage. Now, one of the thrones had been removed, and the remaining chair bore a new sigil: a falling star crossed with a sword.

The nobles of Dorne instantly recognized it as the sigil of House Dayne of Starfall.

Though it had long been speculated that Caesar intended to elevate Nathalie Dayne, the Lady of Starfall, to the position of Dorne's ruler, the sight of this transformation left many with conflicted emotions.

Still, no one dared oppose Caesar's decision under the current circumstances.

After three years of war, Dorne was a shadow of its former self. Its political structure had been irreversibly shaken.

The Martells, who had led Dorne for generations, had fallen into ruin due to repeated failures. To many, they now represented opposition to the rest of Dorne's nobility. The sigil of the blazing sun and spear no longer held the sway it once did over the Dornish lords.

For most, the shift to a new ruling sigil seemed inevitable.

Moreover, House Dayne was a long-standing Dornish house—one of their own. The proud Dornish people could reassure themselves that they had not been conquered by outsiders.

Some of the nobility, seeing the stunning young Lady of Starfall standing at the forefront, were already calculating how they might secure influence through marriage.

Nathalie's beauty only enhanced her appeal. She wore an elegant gown tailored to perfection, emphasizing her graceful figure. Her chestnut hair was styled in an elaborate updo, revealing a swan-like neck. Her features were delicate and refined, with amethyst-like eyes that captivated anyone who gazed at her.

However, the more astute among them suspected a romantic connection between Nathalie and the Storm King, Samwell Caesar. For these nobles, pursuing marriage to Nathalie seemed a fool's errand.

The tolling of bells interrupted their musings.

The assembled nobles turned their attention to the hall's entrance, where Caesar, clad in a sky-blue ceremonial robe, entered with deliberate steps.

A hush fell over the crowd as the sound of his boots echoed through the hall, creating an atmosphere of solemnity.

To the Dornish lords and ladies, Caesar inspired both awe and admiration. Many of them had witnessed his miraculous survival at Bloodstone and his domination of Dorne with just one dragon and his tactical acumen. He had even humbled House Martell, forcing their submission.

Such a man deserved the title of Dorne's conqueror.

When Caesar extended mercy to the Martells and showed respect for the various noble houses, it solidified the loyalty of those who had submitted to him.

Under the watchful gaze of the nobles, Samwell ascended the dais and turned to face the crowd.

Sunlight filtered through the glass dome above, forming a pillar of light that enveloped him. A faint golden halo seemed to glow around him, amplifying his regal presence.

Samwell's gaze swept across the gathered nobility, pausing briefly on Nathalie, who stood among them. A faint smile touched his lips.

"Nathalie Dayne," he called.

Hearing her name, Nathalie's heart raced. Excitement and nervousness mingled in her chest as she lifted the hem of her gown and ascended the steps to kneel before him.

"Your Grace," she said softly.

Samwell unsheathed the greatsword from his back, resting its blade on her shoulder. His voice rang out clearly:

"I, Samwell Caesar, in the sight of the gods, by the name of the Storm King, appoint Nathalie Dayne as Duchess of Starfall and Protector of Dorne. From this day forth, you shall wield the authority of Dorne, lead its noble houses, and safeguard its people."

Nathalie's voice, steady and clear, rose in response:

"I, Nathalie Dayne, in this sacred place, swear before the gods to shoulder the responsibility of protecting Dorne. I will hold this duty as my greatest honor until the day my life ends."

Samwell sheathed his sword, his face softening into a warm smile. He helped Nathalie to her feet and guided her to the single remaining chair on the dais. Once she was seated, he stepped aside.

Below the dais, Trystane Martell knew it was his turn to act.

Even though he had prepared himself for this moment, a wave of bitterness surged within him. To watch the power that had belonged to House Martell for centuries pass into the hands of House Dayne was a bitter pill to swallow.

But no matter how he felt, Trystane understood he had no choice.

Caesar had already shown remarkable clemency to House Martell. If they resisted now, the consequences would be far graver.

Taking a deep breath, Trystane stepped forward, knelt before the Duchess of Dorne, and declared loudly:

"I, Trystane of House Martell, in the sight of the Seven, swear by the sun and spear to offer unparalleled loyalty to Duchess Nathalie Dayne."

His voice broke, and tears rolled down his cheeks.

But he completed the oath.

One by one, the other Dornish nobles followed suit, stepping forward to pledge their loyalty to Nathalie.

Seated on the throne, Nathalie accepted each pledge, her initial nervousness giving way to composure.

She knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, there was always a towering figure behind her, protecting her, clearing obstacles from her path.

It was this man who had led her out of the Red Mountains and brought her to Starfall.

And now, it was his hand that had guided her to the highest seat of power in Dorne.

Nathalie adored him, admired him, and followed him with all her heart.

Though she had never craved power or the attention it brought, she would accept any title if he needed her to.

When the ceremony concluded, Samwell stepped forward again, extending his hand to Nathalie.

She smiled and placed her hand in his, allowing him to lead her down the dais, out of the hall, and to the steps of the Old Palace.

Before them, a vast crowd of Dornish citizens filled the plaza.

As they saw Caesar and Nathalie appear, they erupted in cheers:

"Hail Caesar!"

"Hail Duchess Dayne!"

Above the plaza, the white dragon Cleopatra soared, casting a vast, imposing shadow.

In this moment, the ancient land of Dorne stepped into a new era.

(End of Chapter)