Chapter 285

She chose to wait for his younger brother on the long spear's seat.

She hadn't seen Kunting for a long time; when he was sent away back then, he was even younger than Cuisedan.

She felt that, when she had not seen that letter from Prince Daolang, she still missed her long-unseen younger brother, but after that, she felt…… he would be better off being adopted for life by Count Yilunwude, and best when he returns, to bear the surname Yilunwude, or Shade, and be considered his father's illegitimate son outside.

But he was obviously not an illegitimate son. His mother left Duoen because he was sent away, even abandoning her daughter and another son. No matter what, he was obviously the one his parents loved most.

She truly wished she could behave more like an older sister, just as she treated Cuisedan, but upon seeing Prince Kunting's face, she seemed to see Prince Daolang, and could not get close no matter what.

Prince Daolang sending him away was pure foolishness. He should have sent his heir daughter to Count Yilunwude; perhaps then his mother would not have left Duoen, and he himself would not have been so painful.

She watched Kunting slowly approach. She wanted to get down from her seat to greet him, trying to give him a proper hug, but she still chose to stay seated.

He was stronger than imagined younger brother, his stature not so tall, absolutely not short, his face not so handsome, but in any case, not ugly either; he indeed looked like a person from Duoen.

"My younger brother." Yalianen smiled lightly, pretending as if nothing had happened before, pretending to be delighted by his arrival, "Seeing you truly makes me so happy, but I must say, you have returned too late."

He had returned at just the right time. She never dreamed that one day she would meet him in this way.

What does he want to do? When he jumped down from the dragon's back during her celebration, was he challenging her? Was he proclaiming strength to her vassals?

"I know." He said simply. "Not being able to see him is truly regrettable; I originally wanted to tell him that I have already, I hope he sees me as I am today."

"If the prince had seen it, he certainly would not have died so quickly." She finally stepped down from her seat, drew close to her younger brother, and lightly hugged him, "He has always missed you dearly."

"I also miss him," he looked sorrowful; Yalianen carefully examined his expression to judge whether it was a pretense, or whether what he missed was the stone throne within reach, "and also you and your younger brother."

Miss me? No one misses me.

"You've been gone too long; do you still remember your younger brother?" Yalianen laughed, turning, "He is not happy now; he was supposed to marry the queen, but Prince Daolang killed his 'queen' and sent her to the Iron Throne."

This is truly a boring conversation; she somewhat regretted starting with this, so she had no choice but to tell him the story within.

"And you, my good younger brother," Yalianen said, then forced a smile, the death of Princess Misala always making her feel guilty, "Father said you were sent out on an important mission; later he finally clarified, you were to marry the queen—did you marry her?"

His face turned red, yet his gaze did not evade.

"I am trying. She, I believe, Weisailiang— that is the name of that golden dragon— its existence will continually hint to the queen; I believe she must have considered it in her heart……"

"However she did not reply to you." Even if Duoen were given as a betrothal gift.

"She will surely agree, I know." He hurriedly said, fearing that delay would change the facts.

"I have heard she is the 'Mother of Dragons.' How much control do you have over dragons? To be honest, I truly want to hear your story of riding a dragon."

"I will tell these stories, older sister, I truly want to tell them to you." He stood up again, looked at her, looked at Count Deen seated in the seat, then turned his gaze back to her, "The dragon accepted me; although the Mother of Dragons is its mother, it only allows me to ride it. It has sufficient freedom and will not follow me closely. But…… you have seen, it is merely a small dragon."

"Its skull is not as big as Milaxisi's." This is obvious, but enough to be awe-inspiring.

"Perhaps a surprise attack would work, but battle ultimately depends on people." He directed his gaze to her eyes, looking at her.

Yalianen felt he was finally about to state the purpose of this trip.

"What do you mean?"

"Our father, he once……" He looked again at Count Dien, "He once arranged a marriage between you and the brother of Queen Danilisi, Weisailisi Tangelian; you know the purpose of his doing this."

"I know."

She found herself angry, yet also unusually calm, as if she had completely lost her scruples. Prince Daolang told such a secret matter to someone unrelated to it, yet he deliberately kept it from her, the party concerned; the so-called reason was actually that she was too negligent.

Could it be that the prince meets with Kunting every day, thus understanding him more deeply?

Absolutely not! Absolutely not! The prince merely guessed and decided that Kunting was more suited than she to be the leader of Duoen. He firmly believed she was not a good leader, yet he lacked the courage to completely abolish her inheritance rights.

Hehe, perhaps the prince also regretted sending Kunting away then? Pitiful.

He felt that Kunting Mataier, although standing by his side, was actually farther away than when he was in Yilunwude City at first.

"Yes, establishing the betrothal, for the restoration of Tangelian, and then to take revenge on Lannisite." He grabbed her arms with both hands, as if thinking this would persuade her.

"Revenge."

She mechanically repeated the word, thinking of her deceased close friends and companions, also thinking of Prince Cuisedan's painful, tearful appearance, and Princess Misala's absolutely beautiful face; she suddenly felt her interest wane.

She wanted revenge, but Prince Daolang had already disregarded honor—this very act is a form of retaliation, indeed the most elegant kind—killing Lannisite's daughter and then sending her back with smug satisfaction…… Ha, how many descendants does Tywen Lannisite still have left?

She now does not want the seed growing in her womb to suffer the disturbances of war; more importantly, she does not wish to pour Mataier's strength into someone else's endeavor—indeed, she has not even fully mastered Mataier's strength herself.

Her good father had already severed her arm support, adding many troubles to her complete grasp of power; moreover……

Heh, Prince Doran wasn't saying he wanted to use the war to weaken Dorne's lords? Launching an outward attack won't achieve that.

"Yes, revenge, revenge for our aunt, revenge for the honor of Martell." He released her arm, pointing outside the hall, as if his queen were out there, "Daenerys has already captured many city-states along the way; soon she will cross the Narrow Sea, land in the Seven Kingdoms, and then our great vengeance will be had..."

"I know, Quentin." She interrupted him, "But her campaign in the Three Sisters hasn't been going smoothly."

"The ultimate victor will be her."

Perhaps, she couldn't be bothered to follow his words. "I thought you came back to mourn the prince."

"No, I..."

"Or perhaps you've come to declare your allegiance to me?"

"I didn't expect..."

"Isn't it? So what is it for, then—helping you curry favor with your queen?"

He looked at her doubtfully, silent.

She despised that expression—whenever Prince Doran questioned her, that's exactly how he looked!

Could it be that she's made another mistake? She ought to be completely obedient to him, agree to all his demands, or perhaps Dorne ought to be his, and she is merely keeping it safe for him temporarily.

"We should join Queen Daenerys's camp and help her retake the Iron Throne." He said solemnly: "She commands tens of thousands of elite troops and fierce generals—in the eastern continent, she is unstoppable, every slave master crumbling before her, her army nearly invincible; more importantly, she has dragons, just like the original conqueror Aegon, and she will easily reclaim what belongs to her father and ancestors—she will retake the Seven Kingdoms."

"Little brother, you've forgotten—Conqueror Aegon never conquered Dorne." Arianne laughed. "She couldn't even fully conquer the Three Sisters; otherwise, little brother wouldn't have come here."

"What? What do you mean? Why aren't we on the winning side?"

"You're not asking me to help her retake the Iron Throne," she said, lifting her skirt, returning to her seat and sitting down, taking her little husband's hand, "you're asking me to kneel before her."

"So what?" He waved his hand, "We've also knelt before the Iron Throne, even before Robert Baratheon—don't you remember?"

"We should not kneel before anyone." I am not that weak—"Prince Doran's legs have never been able to straighten, you know, while my legs have always remembered what 'unyielding' means." Her hand rested on the smooth wooden round head that generations of Dornish rulers have touched, now worn to extreme smoothness. "The one sitting before you is the Queen of Dorne, and she will not submit to anyone." She stared at him sternly, "You are my brother; you should, like Oberyn Martell pledged allegiance to Prince Doran, kneel before me and swear fealty to me." Along with your dragon.

"No." Quentin shook his head, disappointed, "I have already sworn allegiance to another queen."

So, you're preparing to betray your father...

"I haven't betrayed my father," he immediately spoke, interrupting her, his hands clenched tightly into fists, "You are the one who betrayed your father. It was he who sent me to sea to find the queen, to tell her that Dorne stands behind her and will fight for her cause, while you...

"The precondition is that the dragon queen marry the son of the Dorne chieftain." Yalian'en found herself shouting as well, "Has she married you? No!" You are no longer the son of the Dorne chieftain either, she wanted to say, but that would be too hurtful, so she wanted to give him some face, "Or perhaps you think that since she slept with you, you ought to fight for her?"

Prince Quentin's face flushed red, both astonished and ashamed as he looked at her, his lips trembling, not knowing how to respond.

"Hahaha!" Yalian'en sneered, "She's never even slept with you, right? My dear brother, she's just using you—if it weren't for your surname Martell and that you ride a dragon, she might not even glance at you a second time, you know, right?"

"No matter what, I will fight for her." Prince Quentin's face turned deathly pale.

"Even invading Dorne?"

"Is that how you see me?" he suddenly burst out shouting.

Yalian'en suddenly felt that perhaps she had gone too far.

"I don't need to invade Dorne." Prince Quentin roared at her, "My father—Prince Doran—promised me Dorne!"

She no longer felt that she had gone too far.

At that moment, seeing Count Daney rise from his sun seat and draw his long sword,

"You won't fight for her." Yalian'en also rose to her feet, placing her hand on her husband's wrist, so he lowered his sword, "Your dragon drove all the mice out of the room—that's good; I hope the mice in that tower can also be cleared out—I want you to reflect on your mistakes in the tower, to be a proper prince of the tower, and to review Dorne's traditions anew."

Prince Quentin's hand rested on his sword, but at that moment the guards belonging to her and Daney filed in, surrounding him completely.