“My Lord.”
Garrothan Tyrell didn’t look up from his paperwork, but spoke loud enough for his strong voice to permeate the door. “Enter.”
A servant entered the room and presented the Lord Paramount of the Reach with a tray of letters. Garrothan gestured for the servant to place them on his desk, but didn’t reach for them until he had finished all of his work for the day. He went through them casually, not seeing much of anything unusual until the last letter. In an elegant, flowing hand was the name “Nymeros Martell, Prince of Dorne.”
He had not heard from the Prince of Dorne for years. They had corresponded occasionally since Kassius had finished his fosterage, but the exchange of letters had never lasted beyond the most basic pleasantries. He could not imagine what the man would want with him now. He really could not have imagined what he was about to read, not in his wildest dreams.
He slit open the letter and began reading it. Halfway through, however, his posture suddenly changed, jerking to alertness. An uncharacteristic look of shock crossed his face and he reread the letter twice, thrice, then stood up and marched to the door of his study, flinging it open and grabbing the first servant he could find. “Summon the Lady Tyrell and Kassius to my study immediately.”
The young maid looked startled. “Lord Kassius is not here, my Lord. He left some days ago in the direction of Goldengrove.”
“Curse that boy. He never is where he needs to be.” Garrothan spat, mostly out of frustration. “Send a horseman out directly to go find him and fetch him back.”
“Right away, my Lord.” The maid said, and ran off.
Kassius had been doing this a lot, lately. Simply up and disappearing, no doubt gallivanting about the countryside painting or something. He always had had his head buried in the clouds, that one. Clutching the letter in his hand until the paper crinkled, Garrothan read it again, trying to make sure he hadn’t misread. He knew the Lord Martell had looked upon Kassius kindly after his fosterage, but to propose marriage with his one and only precious daughter, the Princess of Dorne. It seemed like his quiet third son had finally achieved something with his life. Now if only he could live up to it. When his wife arrived a few minutes later, he directed her to sit, knowing just how much she would share in his shock, his pride… and his trepidation.