Arthur couldn't quite fathom why Prince Doran had such a burning desire to share this particular secret with him.
However, operating on the principle that shared secrets breed trust and strengthen bonds, Arthur went ahead and swore an oath on the graves of his mother and uncle.
Satisfied, Prince Doran laid out his "secret enterprise" in full detail. He wanted Arthur to travel to the Archon's court in Tyrosh, make contact with Viserys Targaryen, and assess the exiled king's character and temperament.
Arthur had a vivid impression of Viserys—mostly centered on his rather "golden" demise and his mocking nickname, the "Beggar King."
"Your Grace," Arthur said, "I don't think my journey to Tyrosh is necessary."
"If Viserys is as you describe—bereft of wise counsel to guide him, living a life of wandering and dependence, surviving on the whims of others..."
"His life these past years is no different from that of a bastard—perhaps even worse. A bastard, after all, isn't burdened by the blood of the Mad King and the weight of a fallen dynasty."
"Such circumstances are enough to turn any normal man paranoid and mad."
Arthur had zero interest in wasting time and energy on Viserys. Traveling to Tyrosh just to nod at the Targaryen siblings would offer no benefit to his current plans.
Worse, it would leave a trail—evidence of contact with "dragonspawn"—that could be used against him later.
As for the future, Arthur didn't believe he had the power or the reason to fundamentally change the personality of a grown man like Viserys in a short time, nor to alter his inevitable fate.
Since there was no upside and plenty of risk, he'd rather spend that time developing his own lands and building his own strength.
Sure, going to Tyrosh would mean seeing the legendary Mother of Dragons, Daenerys. But considering she was currently just a timid young girl terrified of "waking the dragon," he... lost interest.
"Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin," Doran said noncommittally. "Perhaps Viserys is the side of greatness?"
"Perhaps." Arthur spread his hands. "But if Viserys is truly great, his deeds will speak for themselves. You wouldn't need to send someone specifically to check. Singers, poets, and sea captains would bring his legend back to you."
"Or perhaps the time isn't right yet. I look forward to hearing of Viserys's great deeds."
Doran's eyes lit up for a moment, then he shook his head. Information distorted over distance, true, but Arthur's point had merit.
"Arthur, to be honest, I am curious," Doran said. "How did Lord Eddard Stark raise you to be the man you are today? To develop such character in an environment of prejudice... it is something I have rarely seen."
"You flatter me. My uncle has indeed had a great influence on me."
As a transmigrator, Arthur came with a mature worldview and a moral compass already installed. He wasn't a blank slate like a normal child.
And growing up in Winterfell under his uncle's protection had indeed been far better than the lot of a common bastard.
Seeing that Doran had no more to say, Arthur stood and bowed.
"Prince Doran, I will keep my oath. The secret is safe with me. By your leave."
---
Arthur stayed at the Water Gardens for two days. It was truly one of the few places in Dorne cool enough for a relaxing vacation.
Pale pink marble paved the entire garden and courtyards, interspersed with pools, fountains, and exquisitely carved pillars and arches.
Not far away, along the beach, rows of blood orange trees formed an orchard.
According to Sarella, blood oranges were a variant of the common orange—larger, with a more intense fragrance.
But more enchanting than the scenery or the fruit was the carefree laughter of the children playing in the pools.
Eventually, the sandstorm passed, and it was time to leave.
To Arthur's surprise, Edric—who had been playing wild in the water—didn't need a reminder. He obediently joined the retinue for the journey home.
Truth be told, Arthur had worried the boy was having so much fun he'd forgotten about Starfall entirely.
When asked, Edric declared firmly, "Cousin, I promised Jerry I would become a great knight. How could I lose myself in play?"
Honestly, if Arthur hadn't later spotted Elia and the other little Sand Snakes in Prince Oberyn's retinue, he might have believed Edric's noble speech.
Realizing Edric was getting sharper (and sneakier), Arthur thought with a mix of amusement and annoyance, Who's been corrupting this honest kid?
---
For the return trip to Starfall, they didn't take the northern route they had arrived by. Instead, they chose the southern road, passing through Hellholt and Sandstone.
This loop meant they would have effectively circled the entire principality of Dorne, passing through the lands of nearly every major house.
Arthur and Oberyn rode at the head of the column.
"This road is much harder than the one you came by," Oberyn remarked, "but it offers a true taste of Dorne."
"A taste of Dorne?" Arthur wasn't sure if he meant the scenery or something else.
"Deserts, sand, scorching sun, and vipers." Oberyn wore a headscarf and loose robes, the standard travel gear for the Dornish heat. "And if we're lucky, maybe some desert bandits."
Arthur figured with their lineup—the Red Viper, the Knight of Hearts, and a heavily armed retinue—running into bandits would indeed be "lucky" for them, and decidedly unlucky for the bandits.
Oberyn wasn't exaggerating. The road was rougher, with barely a trail to follow, let alone inns or taverns.
Instead of towns, they passed many ruins—castles and settlements half-buried in the shifting sands.
When they encountered these ruins late in the day, they would set up camp.
During these stops, Sarella would scour the ruins for traces of the people who once lived there, eager to understand their lives.
Oberyn proved to be an easygoing traveling companion, devoid of royal pretension. He would tell stories of local legends and customs to the younger members of the party.
He also shared tales of his time as a sellsword in Essos and his travels through the Free Cities.
"Water here is as precious as gold," Oberyn said one evening. "Living near the Torrentine, you might not appreciate that."
"In the deep desert, far from the rivers, if a castle's well runs dry, it doesn't matter how strong its walls are. The sands will claim it."
"The smallfolk of these deserts migrate between oases. They navigate by memory of the wells, raising their children, goats, and horses in the harshness. That is how they breed the sand steed—the most beautiful mount in the Seven Kingdoms."
"Though their light bones make them unsuited for heavy cavalry, they are swift and tireless. A sand steed can run for a day and a night with only a few sips of water."
Beyond the history lessons, Oberyn showed a side few outsiders saw: a patient father. Unlike the "Red Viper" of rumor, he was gentle with his daughters.
He painstakingly taught Elia how to safely milk venom from a viper, how to handle a spear, and how to ride properly.
Arthur began to think the Dornish reverence for Oberyn wasn't just about his martial prowess or his name.
They traveled at a leisurely pace, exploring ruins, finding hidden springs, and occasionally encountering "migrating villages" in the wasteland.
Of course, "migrating village" was often a polite term for people who might be bandits if the opportunity arose.
---