After they made camp for the night.
Princess Arianne finally voiced the question that had been buried in her heart. She leaned close to Elia, her voice suppressed low but unable to hide the worry within: "Auntie... you aren't really..."
"Don't speak nonsense!" Elia interrupted her sharply, her fingers unconsciously clutching her dress tightly, knuckles turning white.
But Arianne's expression grew even heavier. She nodded solemnly. "Mm. Don't worry. I will keep my mouth shut."
Just then, the carriage curtain was thrown open. Oberyn leaned his agile frame into the compartment. His sharp eyes immediately caught the unusual atmosphere between the two. "Keep your mouth shut about what? What happened?"
Arianne bit her lip, then blurted out as if resolved: "Auntie is likely pregnant!"
Instantly, dead silence filled the carriage.
Oberyn's pupils contracted slightly, his expression freezing. Elia lowered her head deeply, one hand unconsciously resting on her lower abdomen, her long lashes casting fragile shadows on her pale face.
In the flickering lamplight, only the sound of wheels outside and the heavy breathing of the three inside could be heard.
Oberyn's face darkened instantly like the Sea of Dorne before a storm. He stared intensely at Elia, his voice low and sharp: "Is it true?"
Elia remained silent, turning her face deeper into the shadows of the carriage.
Arianne couldn't help but interject, her tone urgent. "Of course it's true! How could this be fake? Before we even reached Harrenhal, Auntie was often retching for no reason and had no appetite. She just forbade me from speaking about it..." Her voice dropped, tinged with unwillingness and heartache. "I never thought things would end up like this with Rhaegar..."
Oberyn seemed not to hear the rest of Arianne's words. His gaze was locked firmly on Elia as he repeated the question, every word squeezed through his teeth: "Are you really pregnant?"
The silence in the carriage was suffocating.
Elia's face was as pale as new snow, but she finally lifted her head to meet Oberyn's sharp gaze. Her voice was barely audible: "Yes."
Oberyn's brow furrowed tighter. He leaned forward. "Whose is it?"
Arianne almost jumped up in agitation. "Whose else could it be? Of course it's Prince Rhaegar's..."
Elia lowered her head slightly, remaining silent.
Oberyn's voice was cold as ice. "You told me yourself. Since giving birth to Rhaenys, your body has been weak. You and Rhaegar have slept in separate chambers. You haven't shared a bed, haven't even seen each other privately for months."
The siblings had been inseparable since childhood; they shared everything. There were no secrets between them. Even regarding such private matters, Elia had never hidden the truth from him.
Arianne tried to defend hastily, "Well, occasionally there must be a time or two..."
"From the time you left Dragonstone to return to Dorne, then from Dorne to Harrenhal, until now," Oberyn's voice sounded like a judge passing a sentence, "calculate how much time has passed?"
Arianne calculated hesitantly. "Three, four months..."
Oberyn's gaze was sharp as a dagger, staring at Elia. "And now? How long have you been carrying this child?"
The air inside the carriage seemed to solidify. Only that question echoed in the small space, pounding on everyone's heart.
Elia said faintly, "Stop asking. When I've thought it through, I will tell you. I promise..."
Oberyn's face was terrifyingly dark, but he ultimately forced down his surging emotions, choosing to respect Elia's silence.
Thinking it over, Arianne suddenly looked as if she had been struck by lightning. Her eyes widened.
She suddenly remembered that unsettling night—late that evening, when she had tiptoed out of Euron's room, she nearly collided with someone in the hallway.
By the dim light of the torches, she realized in horror that it was Elia.
Arianne had been mortified, begging her aunt not to say a word. Elia had said nothing, only silently supporting her niece, whose legs were unsteady, back to her bedroom.
When Elia prepared to leave, Arianne panicked, realizing she had accidentally left her undergarments and a few personal accessories in Euron's room. Too ashamed to go back herself, she begged Elia to retrieve them for her.
Elia hesitated for a moment but eventually agreed.
It wasn't until the next morning that Elia returned those awkward items to Arianne. Elia's expression then had been incredibly strange, her eyes evasive, as if she had experienced something unspeakable...
Arianne's breathing became rapid. A terrible guess surfaced in her mind. She looked at Elia in disbelief, her voice trembling. "Could it be that night..."
Before she could finish, she covered her mouth, her eyes full of shock.
Arianne grabbed Elia's arm tightly. "Is it Euron? That night..."
"Don't speak nonsense!" Elia yanked her hand back, a trace of panic crossing her pale face.
"It must be him! I'm certain of it!" Arianne pressed on regardless, the terrifying conjecture making it hard for her to breathe.
A flash of pain passed through Elia's eyes. She lowered her voice urgently. "Ashara is his betrothed! If you speak carelessly, how will they face each other?"
The sentence exploded like thunder in the small carriage. Arianne was instantly silenced. She realized this secret involved not just the reputation of two people, but the fate of four. She stared blankly at her aunt, finally understanding why Elia preferred to bear this alone rather than speak the secret.
Oberyn watched the exchange silently. His gaze shifted between the two women, his face growing darker by the second.
Oberyn locked his hawk-like gaze on Elia's pale face. His voice was low and restrained. "So now? What do you intend to do?"
Elia remained silent, her fingertips unconsciously twisting the fabric of her dress, as if trying to wring all the unspeakable bitterness into the soft cloth.
"I learned to brew medicines while studying at the Citadel," Oberyn's voice softened slightly. "I know how to prepare Moon Tea."
Elia's hand unconsciously covered her abdomen. This subtle movement made her look incredibly fragile. A soft light of motherhood flashed in her eyes, immediately replaced by deep pain.
After a long time, Oberyn sighed, his tone becoming exceptionally solemn. "But I think, regardless, before making any decision... you should tell Euron about this."
Elia looked up sharply, panic in her eyes. "Now? On the road?"
"No," Oberyn shook his head, looking out at the scenery flashing past the window. "Wait until we reach Dorne, until we return to Sunspear. There, you will have enough time and space to face this."
The carriage continued to bump along, the silence inside deafening.
---
The morning mist had not yet cleared as the procession prepared to set out.
When Oberyn saw Euron riding toward him, his face instantly darkened like the deepest night shadow of Dorne.
Euron nodded to him as usual, the trademark lazy smile on his lips. However, Oberyn acted as if he didn't see him at all. He kicked his horse violently; the steed neighed and accelerated away, kicking up dust that nearly covered Euron.
Euron pulled his reins, watching Oberyn's retreating back. He raised an eyebrow in confusion, completely baffled as to which nerve the Dornish Prince had struck today.
Even more perplexing was when he rode alongside Ashara and passed by Arianne's carriage window.
The Dornish princess had just lifted the curtain. Upon seeing him, she immediately huffed coldly, rolled her eyes rudely, and slammed the curtain down with a snap.
Euron froze in place, rubbing his chin. He turned to Ashara beside him and shrugged helplessly.
"Did I offend the entirety of Dorne without knowing it?"
In the morning light, only the rustling of wind through the treetops answered his question.