Gawen simply spent the afternoon drinking with Sara.
“…Whew.”
Oberyn dropped into the armchair opposite him and immediately filled his wine cup to the brim.
“They were right,” he said with a satisfied grin.
“A venomous scorpion really does hide beneath the quiet dunes.”
“Especially if you’re the one foolish enough to stir up the sand.”
Gawen chuckled.
“So…”
“Care for another duel?”
Oberyn studied his new friend again.
He wanted to preserve the feeling while it was still fresh—before reason and restraint dulled the excitement.
“Anytime.”
He raised his goblet in salute.
“It would be my pleasure.”
Gawen picked up his own cup in return and took a sip of the sweet, light wine.
Not bad…
But there’s plenty of room for improvement.
The consciousness of the fire within him stirred quietly.
Brewing a new vintage might actually be worthwhile.
The wines of the Arbor were excellent by Westerosi standards.
Even so, compared to the aged masterpieces he had tasted in his previous life…
They were still relatively simple.
As for their strength…
The difference between Westerosi wine and the fiery spirits of the eastern lands was greater than the distance between Westeros and Yi Ti itself.
The two young men relaxed beside the fireplace, chatting idly over their drinks.
The women, meanwhile, enjoyed a well-earned chance to rest.
The atmosphere was easy, unhurried, and surprisingly peaceful.
The two young men quickly discovered that they admired many of the same qualities in each other.
Stubbornness.
A thirst for knowledge.
And above all…
How effortlessly conversation flowed between them.
The greatest difference lay in their temperaments.
Gawen always wore the same calm, almost icy expression, as though a mask had frozen upon his face.
Oberyn, by contrast, seemed born with an irrepressible smile and a fire that constantly danced in his eyes.
“You’re far too sober…” Oberyn observed.
Despite having drunk enough to feel the wine, Gawen’s gaze remained as sharp as ever.
“The wine is too weak.”
Gawen shrugged.
“As if we had anything else to drink.”
Oberyn laughed.
“In Dorne, some people brew homemade liquor with scorpions.”
“It’s an incredibly rare…
and incredibly terrible drink.”
“I know a few recipes.”
Gawen smiled faintly.
“Another day, I’ll let you taste something better.”
People already drank themselves senseless.
He would simply give them more interesting ways to do it.
Rum.
Brandy.
Vodka.
Beer.
Ale.
Mead.
Berry wines.
Mushroom infusions.
Entirely new styles of grape wine.
And, if he felt particularly adventurous…
A brutally strong grain spirit capable of dropping even the hardiest drinker.
Building proper distilleries might prove troublesome.
But with an alchemical laboratory…
He could produce every one of them himself.
The only real obstacle would be finding enough skilled workers.
“Oh?”
Oberyn raised his cup.
“I’ll remember that.”
“I certainly hope you don’t disappoint me.”
The two continued chatting while waiting for their meal.
Soon, the same waitress returned carrying steaming platters filled with roasted meat, fresh vegetables, and yet another bottle of wine.
“Thank you, beautiful!”
Oberyn nearly wrapped her in an embrace and kissed her before she squealed with laughter and slipped effortlessly from his grasp.
“Ah…”
“Foiled again.”
“Enjoy your meal.”
Gawen offered the woman a polite smile.
For the moment, he allowed himself to set aside thoughts of daily responsibilities and the long-term plans he was quietly laying to build power for House Rowan.
Even so, his mind never truly stopped working.
His next priorities were already taking shape.
Construct several golems.
Commission a blacksmith to forge components for an alchemical laboratory.
Calculate the cost of having a ship built according to his own designs.
And countless other projects besides.
By the time he finally returned to his room at the Citadel, dawn was fast approaching.
Realizing there was little point in trying to sleep, Gawen decided instead to write a letter home.
He wanted to update his father on everything that had happened since his departure.
Once finished, he would ask Archmaester Walgrave to send it by raven.
Dear Father,
I have arrived safely in Oldtown.
The journey itself was not without incident.
Please do not worry.
We successfully drove them off, though sadly one of our knights lost his life in the fighting.
During my travels, I visited the Hollyhall.
Lord Graceford made no secret of his interest in arranging a marriage between me and his only daughter.
I told him that such a decision rests entirely with you.
As for my own opinion, she is beautiful, intelligent, and by all appearances an admirable young lady.
However, I do not believe an alliance with House Graceford would offer our family significant political advantages.
I also paid my respects to our liege lords, House Tyrell.
They received me with great warmth, and I remained at Highgarden for several days.
The castle is even more magnificent than the stories claim.
Its gardens and architecture are truly breathtaking.
Lord Luthor’s son, Mace, is kind, sociable, and surprisingly ambitious.
We even went falconing together, which proved far more enjoyable than I expected.
Upon arriving in Oldtown, my first impression was its incredible solidity.
The entire city seems built from stone.
It feels ancient.
The Citadel and the Starry Sept are both extraordinary.
I have settled comfortably into my quarters at the Citadel, spending my days studying and attending lectures.
I have also become acquainted with Oberyn Martell, Prince of Dorne.
I know there is long-standing hostility between the Reach and Dorne, though our own house has never been deeply entangled in those disputes.
In my opinion, Oberyn is exceptionally well-read, highly intelligent, and a fascinating conversationalist, while still embodying the passionate spirit for which the Dornish are famous.
It is a remarkable combination.
I intend to maintain a strong friendship with him.
You may also wish to consider whether an alliance with one of the Dornish houses could benefit us.
From what I have learned, Oberyn has an elder sister.
I also visited House Hightower.
I delivered your letter to Lord Leyton and another to our cousin Rhonda.
She asked me to convey her wishes for your continued health and prosperity.
I was fortunate enough to become well acquainted with Baelor and his younger brother, Garth.
Our alliance with House Hightower holds tremendous promise.
I intend to strengthen that relationship through friendship and mutual trust.
I have conceived many plans during my time here.
One concerns ships.
Although our lands possess no direct access to the sea, I intend to increase our family’s wealth and eventually commission a vessel built according to my own designs.
I hope you will not object.
If successful…
It may permanently transform the future of our domain.
With love and the deepest respect,
Your son,
Gawen Rowan
Setting down his quill, Gawen reread the letter one final time.
It faithfully described everything he had seen and experienced during his journey.
Only one subject had been deliberately omitted.
Anything related to magic remained his secret.
Send those stones my way—the more, the merrier.