Chapter 180: The Defiant Arianne

The Water Gardens served as the private residence of the rulers of Dorne. It was a palace composed of fountains and gardens. 

Situated three miles west of the capital city of Sunspear, along the beach, a coastal road separated them.

Prince Maron Martell built this garden as a gift to his Targaryen bride, symbolizing the union of Dorne with the Iron Throne. 

Balconies overlooked numerous pools and fountains, blood-orange trees cast shadows, and the pale pink marble floors adorned the gardens and courtyards, passing through a row of carved beams and elegant arches.

Autumn was delightful here. Days were hot, nights cool, salty winds blowing in from the sea, along with the splashes of fountains and pools. 

Many noble children played here, boys and girls of noble birth. Noble families and families from all walks of life in Dorne would send their children to be raised at the Water Gardens. 

Here, children could play together in the sand, pools, and fountains.

However, the atmosphere in the garden wasn't pleasant at the moment.

A quarrel was about to erupt here.

The quarreling parties were, on one side, the ruler of Dorne, Doran Martell, a cautious and composed man who never displayed his emotions. 

He suffered severely from gout, making walking difficult. 

Despite nearing fifty, with his white hair and wrinkles, he looked like a man in his sixties or seventies, a result of years of illness and the pain and hatred from his sister's death at the hands of their enemies, aging him prematurely.

On the other side of the argument was his eldest daughter, Arianne Martell.

Arianne was voluptuous and beautiful, with olive skin, large black eyes, and a head of shiny black curls. She was petite like her mother, standing only five feet two inches tall. 

Arianne was twenty-three years old, noble and beautiful, yet still unmarried.

She was the eldest daughter of Prince Doran and his wife, Mellario. According to Dornish tradition, she was the heir to Sunspear and the ruler of Dorne.

But she remained unmarried to this day because of her father.

Arianne had hoped to take matters into her own hands and find a suitable match. 

She had many suitors, and she believed handsome men were her weakness, especially if they had an air of adventure and taboo about them.

However, her father rejected all such suitors and even forbade her from interacting with them. 

She believed this was his way of stripping her of her inheritance, which fueled her resentment toward him.

Now, after the conclusion of the sword ceremony in Pentos, a letter from Prince Oberyn Martell filled her with despair. 

In the letter, she discovered she was arranged to be a holy maiden in the Dragon God Church, a blatant attempt to strip her of her inheritance.

Arianne was determined to resist. As the first heir of Dorne, although she had little real power, she still had some influence. 

Her childhood friends from the Water Gardens and several illegitimate daughters of her uncle Oberyn, who were now her confidantes, stood by her.

Arianne was adept at scheming, adventurous, and hot-tempered. 

She would stop at nothing to obtain what she believed she deserved. 

Now, she had contacted these confidantes and certain commanders from Sunspear who had sided with her, plotting to rebel against her father and force him to pass the inheritance directly to her.

However, she couldn't hide the plan from her father, due to her inexperience in such matters.

Soon, her plot was discovered by her father.

As a result, Prince Doran locked his daughter in a comfortable cell atop a tower.

As she had been cut off from communication with the outside world, and even her servants who took care of her were prohibited from talking to her, Arianne began a hunger strike in protest.

Eventually, Prince Doran had to personally talk to Arianne.

Before being taken to see her father, she had thought of appearing humble and repentant, begging for forgiveness on her knees before her father, lest she never hear another human voice again.

But when she saw her father again, she couldn't bring herself to kneel and beg as planned.

She simply said, "Father."

He gazed at her face for a long time before saying, "Why? Tell me, Arianne. Tell me why. You're my daughter, Arianne, the little girl who used to run to me with scraped knees. 

It's hard for me to believe you would plot against me. I need to know the truth."

"Why?" Arianne sneered, feeling it was time to settle the score. 

"Ha, to Tywin Lannister and the Lannister family, you always behave like a saint; but to your own flesh and blood, you show no mercy."

"Through hardship, one becomes noble, Arianne, you shouldn't mistake patience for submission. 

Ever since they told me about the deaths of Elia and her childrens, I've been dedicated to the downfall of Tywin Lannister. 

I hoped to strip away everything he held dear before killing him with my own hands. Is that what you want?"

"Really?" the princess retorted, avoiding the real issue. "I want my rights."

"Your rights?" the prince countered.

"Dorne."

"After my death, Dorne will be yours. Are you so eager to be rid of me?"

"I should be asking you that, Father. I have the nominal right to inherit Dorne. 

However, it's Uncle Oberyn who wields real power. 

You appointed him as the acting castellan of Sunspear, handling tax collection yourself, leaving the treasury to the steward, the Magister in charge of city order, the judge presiding over legal arbitration, and the maester handling trivial correspondence.

All I have to do is drink and entertain guests. You are making excuses for me."

"That's not true."

"Isn't it? Why not ask my brother?"

"Trystane?"

"Quentyn."

The prince's face darkened. 

"Your suspicion is unbecoming, Arianne. Quentyn should be the one plotting against me. 

When I sent him away as a foster child, he was just a child, not understanding Dorne's needs. 

To him, his foster father Anders Yronwood was more of a father than I, yet your brother remains loyal and dutiful."

"Why not? You favor him, always have. Not only does he look like you, but his way of thinking is also like yours. 

You intend to pass Dorne to him—don't bother denying it! I saw the letter when I was fourteen." Every word of the letter burned in her memory like fire.

"'One day, you will take my place and rule Dorne.' Those were your exact words. 

Tell me, Father, when did you decide to strip me of my inheritance? 

From the day Quentyn was born, or from the day I was born? What have I done to make you hate me so?" 

What infuriated her was that tears were brimming in her eyes now, and she didn't want to appear weak in front of her father.

"I've never hated you," Prince Doran's voice was thin and fragile, filled with sorrow. 

"Arianne, you don't understand."

"Do you deny writing these words?"

"No. At that time, Quentyn had just gone to Yronwood, and I did plan to have him inherit my position, that's true. But for you, I had another plan."

"Oh, yes," she mocked, "those plans. Gyles Rosby, Ben Beesbury, Hugh Grandison—those are your plans." 

She didn't give him a chance to explain. 

"I understand. Providing an heir for Dorne is my duty, I've never forgotten that. 

I'm willing to marry, but the suitors you've arranged for me are insulting, all old men, every time. If you had even a hint of care for me, why did you want me to marry Walder Frey?"

"Because I knew you would refuse. As you reached a certain age, I had to show people that I was looking for a spouse for you, or it would arouse suspicion. 

But I dare not propose to you any candidates who may be accepted by you. You already had an engagement, Arianne."

"An engagement?" Arianne stared at him skeptically. "What are you saying? Another lie? You never mentioned..."

"The agreement was signed in secret. I intended to tell you when you were old enough... I wanted to, but..."

"I'm twenty-three now, I'm an adult now!" Arianne said angrily.

"I know, I know. I kept it from you too long to protect you. Arianne, your nature... for you, a secret is just an exciting story. I couldn't risk it."

She was confused. An engagement. I have an engagement. "Who? For all these years, who was I engaged to?"

"It doesn't matter. He's dead."

She was even more perplexed. "The old man was really fragile. Did he break his hip, or catch a fever, or gout?"

"It was Prince Viserys. He died in the blaze of dragonfire. Man proposes, God disposes," Prince Doran gestured wearily with his swollen, inflamed hand. 

"Dorne is yours, I assure you, if my word still means anything to you."

"Dorne is mine?" Arianne looked at him suspiciously. 

"But you've already decided to send me to that Dragon God Church as a holy maiden. 

Tell me, do you want me to live a life of abstinence like a Septa, celibate till death; or do you want me to be like the Graces of Temple of the Graces, either to be sacrificed or used to entertain guests.

Father... why not just appoint Quentyn as the heir, then summon Hotah and his axe, and let me die beside my cousins?"

"You don't know," his father sighed, speaking in a low, deep voice as if afraid of being overheard. 

"You don't know what my brother saw in the Dragon God Church and Pentos. 

Oh, they were true miracles: the Church that appeared overnight, the inexhaustible water and fire, the moving statues and paintings, the magic far surpassing those charlatans' tricks, Azor Ahai's Lightbringer, three dragons hatched from petrified eggs, and a true messenger of the god. 

What he saw was our desire."

Arianne's eyes narrowed. "Our desire?"

"Revenge."

His voice was faint, as if afraid someone would hear.

"Justice."

Prince Doran pressed a three-headed red Dragon emblem into her palm with his swollen and inflamed fingers, whispering, "Fire and Blood."

.

.

.

Guys, do leave some power stones and reviews.

✌patreon.com/bobthewriter✌

If you guys enjoy this story, you can support me on Patreon and get access to 30 Advance Chapters, it really helps me to work on new chapters.