Fruitful Hall, The Arbor, Whispering Sound.
Lord Paxter Redwyne stared at the glass of amber liquid on his table, lost in thought.
Beside the glass sat a basket of fresh peaches. Each fruit was large, plump, and exuding a heady fragrance.
Since the Age of Heroes, the lands ruled by his house had produced the finest vintages in all of Westeros.
Gilbert of the Vines, the legendary founder of House Redwyne and a son of Garth Greenhand himself, had taught the people of the Arbor the secrets of winemaking.
The exquisite sweet reds and golden vintages produced here had brought House Redwyne immense wealth.
This wealth allowed House Redwyne to maintain the Arbor Fleet—a naval force rivaling both the Iron Fleet and the Royal Fleet in size and power.
Fine wine and warships were the two legs upon which House Redwyne stood, allowing them to tower over the other houses of the Reach, and indeed, most of the Seven Kingdoms.
"Father, are these peaches and this wine really from Starfall?"
Ser Horas Redwyne, the elder of the twins, wiped peach juice from the corner of his mouth in disbelief. "With Dorne's scorching heat, I thought they could only grow olives and figs. Can they really produce such delicious peaches?"
His brother, Ser Hobber, was also devouring a peach with gusto. "The size is the real surprise. They're even bigger than the ones we grow here in the Reach."
Lady Mina sat beside Lord Paxter. Having tasted the Amber Peach Wine, she frowned slightly.
"The texture and flavor profile share similarities with Dornish Summerwine, but the quality and complexity are leagues ahead. It is easily comparable to our Arbor Gold."
"Paxter, are you certain they have a complete production process and a stable supply of raw materials?"
Lady Mina was the sister of Mace Tyrell, Lord of Highgarden. She understood exactly what these peaches and this wine represented—and the threat they posed to the Arbor's dominance, both now and in the future.
"A wine merchant brought me the first samples and the news. I sent agents to Starfall to investigate the production and gather intelligence," Paxter said, his expression grave.
"Everything the merchant said is true. They have a sophisticated brewing process and vast peach orchards."
Lady Mina sighed. "So you really intend for Horas or Hobber to marry a Dornish woman?"
"You know how much Mace loathes the Red Viper—and by extension, all things Dornish—ever since Willas was crippled."
"Mina, I hope you understand the importance of wine to House Redwyne," Paxter said earnestly.
"This Amber Peach Wine is still relatively unknown. Starfall lacks the merchant fleet and the trade networks to distribute it widely. This is our golden opportunity to partner with them and control the distribution channels."
"If we don't act now, Starfall will use this wine to threaten the very foundation of House Redwyne."
Lady Mina sighed again. "Paxter, though I have no love for the Dornish, I will support your decision."
"I will speak to Mother and Mace about this myself."
Lady Mina knew exactly what her husband was asking: he needed her to secure the approval of the "Queen of Thorns," Olenna Tyrell, and Lord Mace Tyrell.
Her mother, the Queen of Thorns, might prick her a few times with sharp words, but she would see the logic.
But Mace...
Her brother was often called the "Lord Oaf" behind his back, or as their mother put it, a "Pufferfish."
According to Olenna, a pufferfish was a creature from the Summer Isles that swelled to ten times its size at the slightest poke.
Mina felt the description was harsh but accurate.
On the subject of Dorne, Mace was perpetually in a state of ten-fold inflation. He wouldn't listen to reason, context, or the balance of pros and cons. Reasoning with him was impossible; one simply had to wait for him to deflate.
"Writing a letter won't be enough," Lady Mina said, standing up. "I'll have to go to Highgarden in person."
Paxter took her hand. "No rush. Finish your breakfast. I'll have the steward prepare the ship. You can take the Great Mace."
Lady Mina sat back down. "And if Starfall has no interest in marrying us? Or in sending Edric Dayne to the Arbor as your squire?"
Paxter's face hardened. "We have extended an olive branch. If they refuse cooperation, then there is only competition. I will not allow a rival that threatens the foundation of our house to grow unchecked!"
---
When Arthur saw the white stone of the Palestone Sword Tower again, more than a month had passed since they left Sunspear.
The journey had certainly left its mark. Arthur was significantly tanner, with a stark contrast between his face and forearms and the rest of his skin.
He had also learned much about finding water in the desert and navigating by the stars. He was particularly familiar with the Ice Dragon constellation now.
The blue star in the Ice Dragon's head, known as the Dragon's Eye or the Rider's Eye, pointed true north. Following the direction of the tail allowed one to travel south at night.
"Come on, it's been half a month. Why the long face?" Arthur nudged a listless Edric Dayne. "It's not like you'll never see Elia again."
Edric forced a smile. "I'm not sad, just tired."
Half a month ago, when they reached Hellholt, the seat of House Uller, Oberyn's paramour Ellaria Sand and her daughters—including Elia—had stayed behind. They hadn't continued on to Starfall.
Losing his playmates and enduring the harsh travel had turned Edric into a wilted flower.
However, as the party crossed the stone bridge and Edric spotted his aunt Allyria waiting at the gate with the old master-at-arms and servants, he cheered and sprinted toward her.
"Aunt Allyria! I made so many friends in Sunspear! You won't believe what happened at the tourney..."
Edric grabbed Allyria's hand, excitedly recounting his adventures.
"Alright, Edric, save your stories for later. We have guests to welcome." Allyria gently pulled Edric to her side and looked at the approaching retinue.
"Prince Oberyn, welcome to Starfall," she said with perfect courtesy.
"Lady Allyria, it is a pleasure to see you again." Oberyn dismounted, looking somewhat nostalgic. "The last time I was a guest at Starfall, I was with my mother and sister. It has been a long time."
After the greetings and the ritual offering of bread and salt, Allyria spoke.
"Your Grace, my lords, we have prepared guest rooms and hot water. Ser Ilic will show you the way."
The journey through the desert had been dusty and water-scarce. Bathing had been a luxury they couldn't afford. Everyone was coated in grime and smelled of sweat and horse.
"Arthur," Allyria added, "once you've settled Lady Nym, come to the small hall. We need to discuss the arrangements for the sword-drawing ceremony tomorrow."
"Understood."
Arthur signaled to Allyria, then led Lady Nym to the main keep to show her to her quarters—and to visit his own.
After a thorough scrub in his own bathroom and changing into clean clothes, Arthur felt like a new man.
There was nothing quite like being back in his own room.
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