The clamor of the banquet receded like the tide, and Sunspear returned to tranquility under the brilliant stars and moon.
Ashara carried Alexander, while Euron held the hands of Rhaenys and Caesar, following Princess Elia through the winding corridors within the castle.
Copper torch sconces on the corridor walls flickered with warm light, guiding them to the Sun Tower, the symbol of House Martell's authority.
Inside the tower, the vaulted ceiling was high and broad. The walls were hung with colorful tapestries depicting ancient legends of Dorne, and the air was filled with the faint fragrance of spices and sand-jujube wood.
"During the days I sail for the Summer Isles," Euron stopped, his gaze falling on Ashara and the sleeping Alexander in her arms. His voice was exceptionally clear in the empty tower. "You and the child will stay here, keeping Elia company."
It wasn't a discussion, but an arrangement made long ago. Yet, the meaning within went far beyond that. Entrusting his most precious vulnerability to Dorne was, in itself, the strongest vow of alliance. At the same time, it was finding a solid and warm sanctuary for Ashara and the children, far from the storms of the sea and the blood of battle.
Ashara raised her violet eyes and exchanged a knowing look with Elia. She nodded gently without saying much, simply holding the child in her arms a little tighter. Staying in Dorne, beside her dearest friend, was perhaps the best arrangement for her during the expedition.
Elia took a step forward, gently linking arms with Ashara, and said to Euron, "Rest assured. In Sunspear, they will be very safe." The promise was soft, yet carried undeniable firmness.
Ashara carefully placed Alexander in the cradle in the room. This cradle had once held Rhaenys, then Caesar, and now it welcomed a new master.
Five-year-old Rhaenys and three-year-old Caesar carefully peered over the edge of the carved cradle, their bright eyes full of curiosity.
Alexander lay in the soft velvet swaddling, his violet eyes, inherited from his mother, wide open. Faced with two small faces suddenly appearing above him, he showed no fear. Instead, he waved his lotus-root-like white arms and legs, babbling tiny syllables as if greeting his newly met brother and sister in his own language.
Rhaenys extended a small finger and touched Alexander's cheek ever so lightly. The touch felt like the finest warm jade. Her movement carried a gentleness belonging to an older sister. Seeing Alexander giggle at her, she turned back in surprise and whispered to her brother Caesar, "Look, he likes me!"
Little Caesar mimicked his sister. With shorter, chubbier fingers, he clumsily touched Alexander's small hand, which was immediately gripped tight by the baby's instinct. He giggled and looked up to announce to Elia and Ashara, who were walking over, "He caught me! He's so strong!"
Around the cradle, children's laughter and infant babbling wove together, injecting precious innocence and vitality into the room.
Little Princess Rhaenys was born in 280 AC on Dragonstone. Before she was even a year old, she returned to Dorne with her mother Elia and Euron, then traveled all the way to Harrenhal. After the tourney, the marriage upheaval that shook the Seven Kingdoms occurred. Since 281 AC, Rhaenys had never seen her biological father, Prince Rhaegar, again.
The passage of time had long blurred Rhaegar's face. In her memory, he was just a distant, unfamiliar name and a fuzzy shadow.
In contrast, the one who had accompanied her all these years was Euron.
Euron would clumsily check if she had hurt herself falling on the stone paths, listen to her vaguely recount childish observations, order the maids to light all the lamps when she woke from nightmares, and hold her at night telling stories of seafaring.
Unknowingly, this man outsiders called the "Kraken Lord" had long occupied the role of father in her young heart, shouldering a father's responsibilities.
When little Caesar began to babble and clearly called out "Father," always receiving Euron's strong response and being lifted high, Rhaenys hid behind a pillar, sad for a long time. That subtle sense of loss, of being excluded, gripped her small heart tightly.
Elia saw her daughter's silent grievance and felt pain in her heart, but didn't know how to untie this knot.
Until one day, Euron returned from the sea, travel-worn. He strode into the garden, his gaze sweeping over Rhaenys, who was playing alone with a rag doll. He walked over, asked nothing, simply bent down and lifted her high above his head, just as he sometimes did with Caesar. The scent of sea breeze and smoke instantly enveloped the little girl.
"My precious little princess," Euron laughed loudly, carrying the smell of the sea, "I'm back."
Her view suddenly elevated, the world spinning beneath her feet. Rhaenys's heart pounded, and a courage she had never felt before surged up. She looked down at Euron's weathered face, which held no defenses against her, and asked in a voice soft as a mosquito's hum, yet incredibly clear:
"Father... can, can I call you that?"
Euron's movement stopped abruptly. The arms holding her seemed to stiffen for a moment. A flash of astonishment crossed his face, appearing somewhat at a loss. He slowly lowered the little girl until she was eye-level with him.
He said nothing, simply pressing a warm kiss onto her forehead.
"Of course you can," Euron's voice was lower than ever, yet incomparably certain. "My daughter."
From that day on, sunlight finally shone into the little princess's heart without any haze. And from that day on, Euron gained a lovely daughter with whom he shared no blood.
Euron sat on the floor, Rhaenys and little Caesar snuggled beside him like two clingy kittens. His rough fingertips gently stroked his daughter's tender cheek, then ruffled his son's soft curly hair.
Ashara and Elia sat on either side of him, guarding precious treasures. Looking at the three laughing children before him, feeling the silent companionship of the two women beside him, an unprecedented, almost dizzying warmth washed over Euron's chest. He suddenly felt that the so-called ambition to conquer the Seven Kingdoms, the glory of the invincible fleet, all seemed pale before the peace of this moment. Beautiful wives by his side, children all around—the utmost happiness in the world was nothing more than this.
"It's very convenient here," Elia tilted her head slightly, her voice soft as a whisper. "Sunspear is always open to you. Whenever you have time... you can come back and see the children."
Hearing this, Ashara's lips curled into a knowing smile, delivering a timely "strike": "Yes, compared to someone having to run hard between two places, this saves a lot of effort."
Elia's cheeks instantly flushed red, her eyes dodging in panic. "What... what running between two places..."
"After he got that ability to come and go freely, he must have secretly come here. I know it." Ashara's smile deepened, carrying a slyness that saw through everything. "He couldn't possibly leave Caesar unattended. Rather than letting him spend his days in brothels across the Narrow Sea, provoking a bunch of dubious lovers, I'd rather he come see you more often, sister. At least here, it's clean, and reassuring."
Elia's face turned even redder, scolding softly, "Ashara..."
But Ashara turned her gaze to the three playing children, her tone becoming gentle yet firm. "Even Rhaenys calls him father willingly; Euron naturally has to fulfill a father's responsibility. If he dares to betray this trust, even I would look down on him." She shifted gears, looking back at Euron with a bit of teasing. "Alright, let's not talk about this. Anyway, we have to keep a good watch on him in the future. He's already philandering enough as it is."
Listening to this conversation, Euron wore a complex expression of helplessness and satisfaction. He extended his strong arms, one for each, and gently encircled Ashara and Elia's waists, pulling them toward him.
"With you here," his voice was low, carrying unquestionable sincerity, "for this lifetime, it is enough."
Elia leaned on his shoulder, but suddenly looked up and asked softly, "Then... what about Lisa?"
Ashara immediately followed up, with a mischievous smile, "And the Red Priestess, Gwendolyn?"
Hidden in the shadows of the curtains, the three sisters from Lonely Light poked their heads out silently like ghosts, saying:
"Wrong, wrong,"
"Yeah, there's more,"
"Don't forget us!"
Euron: "..."
The smile on his face froze instantly. He opened his mouth, finding himself once again in a situation where no explanation would suffice. It turned into a long sigh, mixed with happiness and an incredible headache.
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