Doran is a good big brother!

Lemonwood is the seat of House Dalt, and it is located south of the mouth of the Greenblood river, on the east coast of Dorne.

House Dalt is a minor Dornish House that was founded by a knight 6 centuries ago, which is why Lord Dalt's official title is also Knight of Lemonwood. But unlike many landed knight houses, the Dalts knew how to take advantage of every opportunity to enrich themselves and increase their position.

They are not on the level of the Allyrion, Toland or any of the major Houses of Dorne but their power and wealth is far superior to many landed knight houses, which is why they are no longer considered as such by most.

House Dalt has 700 banners at their service in times of war and they are rich enough to have quite an impressive castle.

Their castle has a wall built of an orange brick typical of the desert, it is 20 meters high and surrounds the entire castle complex that has 4 towers, a Keep, some stables and a sept.

House Dalt Castle stands on a hill at the foot of which is Lemonwood Town, a town of approximately 8,000 inhabitants. Despite being on the desert coast, thanks to the proximity of the Greenblood and a small lake that draws water from a seemingly infinite underground source, the town and castle are surrounded by green pastures and the land is very fertile. The ancestors of House Dalt took advantage of the land and planted a wide variety of fruit trees, and of all of them lemon trees are the characteristic crop of House Dalt and hence the name of both the town and the castle.

There are so many lemon trees planted that they form a small but beautiful forest, and to celebrate the wealth that the export of these fruits gave them, the Dalts created the lemon festival. The festival is a very famous celebration in Dorne, it takes place a couple of days after the lemons are ripe, just before harvest time.

Food stalls and games are set up in the lemon grove, competitions of all kinds are held, and actors and bards gather to entertain the crowd. Doran has already attended several festivals, unfortunately on this visit to Lemonwood he will not witness the festival that he loves so much since the festival is several moons away.

Doran arrived at Lemonwood in the last days of 3 Moon 259AC, several days before his family.

Those days he spent socializing with the Dalts and strengthening their ties with his house. Lord Edwyn Dalt is 29 years old and a tall and robust salty Dornishmen, his wife Lady Cerelle is a golden-haired, blue-eyed, pale-skinned beauty, their children Damon and Deziel are a mixture of both.

Eleven-year-old Damon has his mother's hair and eyes but his father's olive skin tone. Deziel looks like her father but with the blue eyes of her mother.

Doran already knew the four of them in passing but never had the opportunity to get to know them more deeply, remembering what his grandmother once said Doran made an effort to get to know them better:

"Knowing the motivations and ambitions of your subjects will help you prevent treason... And rule them better, but don't forget that even the most loyal of your subjects will backstab you under the right circumstances. You must know how to prevent such circumstances."

The prince spent four days getting to know the Dalts and when his family finally arrived at Lemonwood Doran had a pretty good idea of ​​the kind of people the Dalts are.

Edwyn is more knight than lord, interested in martial matters and enjoys fishing and training. His patience is quite short but he is not a hothead either, he is quite fair and values ​​the principles of chivalry greatly.

His wife is originally from the Riverlands, a daughter of a minor house, and Doran didn't quite like her. The prince thinks that she is full of too many prejudices, despite being Lady of a Dornish house she despises bastards and considers the smallfolk as something a lil better than animals. Her marriage to Lord Dalt was due to the friendship of the late Lord Dalt and her father, and neither spouse is satisfied with the other.

`I think that is why Lord Edwyn spends as much time as possible away from his wife`

Damon took after his father and is being trained to be a knight, he is a very diligent and obedient boy. Her sister, despite her mother's attempts to turn her into a proper lady, is a wild girl who wants to do everything that her older brother does, from training to attending the lessons of the maester. To Lady Cerelle's anger, Lord Edwyn spoils his daughter and allows her to do everything she wants.

***

2 Day of the 4 Moon of 259AC

Dorne, Training Grounds of Lemonwood Castle

Doran was teaching Mors how to land side blows when Olyvvar entered the training yard.

"You have to separate your feet more." The prince insisted. "You don't want to lose your footing in the middle of a battle, on the training grounds you'll only embarrass yourself in front of your training partners but on the battlefield that could very well cost you your life."

"Yes!" Mors follows the instructions of his older brother.

"Yes, that's right, very good little brother! Now you have to turn as you strike, remember to put all your weight on the sword, the force when striking doesn't just come from your arms; it comes from your whole body."

Mors turns his body around and hits the training dummy with all his might.

"That's the spirit, Mors! Keep doing it over and over until the moves feel natural and you don't have to think about doing them. And try practicing where you're aiming, getting the move right isn't everything, you have to aim in the right place to do more damage to your enemy."

"Morning."

Doran turned around and saw his younger brother walking towards them rubbing his eye.

"Still sleepy Olly? It's almost mid-morning" Doran laughs amused.

"Not all of us enjoy waking up with the sun," Olyvvar complains with a pout.

"Certainly, but waking up around noon... You're still a baby Olly." Mors lowers the training sword and picks on his younger brother.

Olyvvar responds in the most mature way possible for a four and a half year old, sticking out his tongue.

"Little brat."

"Enough you two," Doran interrupts his brothers before they start fighting. `This two are like cats and dogs` "Olyvvar, what are you doing in the training grounds?"

"I want to learn to fight!"

"You're still a baby!" Mors taunts him with a smirk.

"Mors, keep hitting that dummy, your technique still needs a lot of work." Mors complains and mutters something to himself but obeys his brother and goes back to his training. Doran looks back at his other brother. "Olly, do mother and father know you're here?"

Olyvvar squirms under his gaze and lowers his head.

"Olyvvar..."

"But you started training when you were younger than me!"

"Yes, I did it on my own and everything I did was wrong, from the way I held the sword to the way I swung it. Lothar only agreed to teach me after my mother and father gave me permission."

"Ask their permission for me, please!" Olyvvar looks at him with his big purple eyes.

Doran stares into his brother's puppy dog ​​eyes for a few moments before sighing and looking away.

`Not that anything will happen if he starts learning the basics, as he said, I started my training when I was even younger`

"I will talk with them." Olyvvar's expression lights up and Doran is quick to add. "But I promise nothing!"

"I trust you brother!"

With his brother's hopeful eyes on him Doran walks towards the castle where his mother was having tea with Lady Dalt, Trystanne was riding with Lord Dalt in the surroundings, they were testing some new horses that came from Essos.

`Some type of Dothraki horse, I think it was Trevor's idea to bring a few to see how they behave in the desert and if breeding them would be beneficial. Fifty came to Sunspear two months ago, and if I remember correctly Grandmama gave Lord Dalt, who was visiting, a couple.`

"Mother, Lady Dalt." Doran greets them once he enters the room where they were having tea.

"Son!" His mother's excited greeting makes Doran suppress a smile, her clouded eyes reflecting his feelings when he was the one who had to listen to Lady Dalt's endless and boring chatter.

"Welcome, my prince. Are you going to join us? I was just telling your mother about the new year's sermon, Septon Martyn's eloquence-"

"You already told me about it, my lady. Do you not remember?" Doran still has that two-hour talk fresh in his memory, if he were to close his eyes even he could hear Lady Dalt's endless praise for Septon Martyn.

`You, woman, have what George called "the hots" for Septon Martyn. It's crystal clear, the only weird thing is how Lord Dalt hasn't found out yet. When that happens, well it will be entertaining.`

"Oh, yes." Lady Dalt deflates, clearly disappointed that she can't praise the septon more.

"Why did you come son?" Obella looks at him with hopeful eyes, practically begging him to rescue her.

"I just remembered a matter that my grandmother mentioned, I would like to discuss it with you while it is still fresh in my memory. Lady Dalt, I hope you can excuse us." Doran gives Lady Dalt his best smile.

"Oh well, if it's about our princess."

"You will have to excuse us my lady." Obella gets up and after smiling at Lady Dalt she walks towards her son.

After saying goodbye to Lady Dalt, Doran follows his mother. Once in the hallway, Obella kisses her son on the cheek and whispers in his ear:

"Phew, you saved me son. I don't know how many more speeches of the wonders of this Martyn I could take..."

Doran chuckles and looks at her sympathetically.

"While I was waiting for you I had to endure a dozen of those speeches mother, believe me when I tell you I know your suffering."

"How so?" Obella raises an eyebrow, "You could have spent your days in the company of Edwyn and Damon, I know they at least wouldn't bore you to death."

"Grandmama said I have to know my future subjects."

"Oh, the `Know your possible foe` talk." Obella smiles wistfully. "I remember when mother had me traveling two years all over Dorne to meet every house, from the poorest landed knight house that had nothing more than a crumbling tower to the mightiest."

"Even the Yronwoods?"

"Even them, although for that visit she 'coincidentally' was visiting her friend, Lady Wyl, and she accompanied me during the days I spent in Yronwood. Lord Anders had a constipated face during the four days we stayed, not if it was from hatred towards my mother or for her obvious distrust in them." She laughs at the memory.

"He didn't participate in the rebellion did he?"

House Yronwood had supported House Blackfyre through the first, third, and fourth rebellion.

"Let's continue this conversation in a more private place, Doran."

Obella leads her son into an empty room and closes the door.

"Can you do your thing?"

Doran knows what she means and activates his medallion before using a spell to check that no one is spying on them and another to give them more privacy.

"Done."

"Good job." Obella ruffles his hair, causing Doran to pout and turn away from her to brush his dark curls back. Obella laughs and shakes her head. "Vain brat."

"You are the one to speak, mother. You will cut off the hand of anyone who dares to touch your precious hair."

"Anders Yronwood was publicly against his father's decision to support the Blackfyre and so he himself left Yronwood to move to Kings Landing, where he served in the Targaryen army." Obella begins her explanation ignoring her child's comment. "But that was just a political move to avoid punishment should the Blackfyre lose the war, so that Anders would become the new Lord Yronwood should his father be killed in the war or stripped of his title by the Crown."

"That's a great tactic," Doran acknowledges. "But did it work in the third AND the fourth Rebellion?"

"In the Third Blackfyre Rebellion the king was Aerys I, he was not a harsh king so the punishment for traitorous houses was quite light. House Yronwood lost half of their income for a decade and their bannermen number was reduced from 8,000 to 6,000."

"Though it seems like a severe punishment, treason on such a scale is usually punishable by death."

"That depends on the king, Aeyrs took the doctrine from his father that although it made Daeron II look like a weak king in the eyes of many, it actually won the loyalty of many houses that previously supported the Blackfyre."

Doran realizes that Obella's opinion of King Daeron II Targaryen is quite different from his grandmother's, his mother seems to admire and respect the late king while his grandmother has quite a bit of disdain for him.

`And not for his methods nor ideologies, just cause he is a Targaryen` Doran noted that the Princess of Dorne's opinion of any Targaryen seemed to have sinked in recent years. `Even Rhaella took a long time to like her, and I think she's the only Targaryen she thinks highly of.`

"In the Fourth Blackfyre Rebellion things were quite different." Obella continues. "Aegon was not as kind as his uncle or grandfather, the Lords who supported the Blackfyre were executed and their houses faced sirius repercussions. But Anders, having fought for the black dragon, saved his house from ruin. But even his apparent loyalty couldnt saved them from the repercussions. The number of House Yronwood bannermen was further reduced and they faced an increase in taxes."

"They planned to use the same tactic in the next war!" Doran realized.

"Exactly," Obella looked at him proudly. "Yon Yronwood lived in Essos giving him the opportunity to create strong ties with the Blackfyre and in the time of war he and his family will follow the red dragon, and when the scales tip towards the Blackfyre Anders will join his brother. At least that's what mother and I think, finding proof of the truth is up to you."

"Yes, I will do my duty as a Martell and as a prince." Doran looked at his mother with determination.

"I am sure you will, my sweetling." Obella laughed and ruffled his hair again.

"Mother!" The prince complains.

"Doran," Obella seems to remember something. "You didn't come to interrupt my chat with Lady Dalt to talk about this, did you?"

"Oh!" Doran's eyes widened, remembering his original purpose. "Olyvvar wants to start his training-"

"And he asked you to intervene on his behalf." Obella interrupts him with a smirk and an amused twinkle in her eyes.

Doran nods and Obella starts laughing.

"Really son..." She shakes her head. "You should learn to say no to your siblings. They have you wrapped around their little fingers."

"That-" Doran starts to protest but at the stare of his mother he slumps his shoulders and admits defeat.

"Come on, I'll talk to Olyvvar personally. If he wants to ask me for something, let him do it himself."

The two Martells leave the room and walk towards the training grounds.

`I hope those two didn't kill each other in my absence.` Doran remembers the rivalry between Olyvvar and Mors with a scowl. `They will be fine, at least I hope so...`