A Meeting of Inquisitors

"Brother, it is good to see you again," he said, embracing Trajan warmly. The two bastard sons of King Maegor shared a closer friendship than any of his other children could boast, and in Dorne three years prior, each had saved the other's life more than once.

"Rhaena told me what happened to Lord Serrett's men on the road. I assume you have orders from father?"

Maekar examined the seal for a brief moment, and then broke it, quickly scanning the contents of the letter.

Maekar blinked once when he read the name, and looked up at his brother. "You've seen this?" He looked confused, as if he was trying to understand why, and could not find a reason, but then his face hardened. "I serve at the pleasure of the King. 'His words, our hands'," he added, speaking the informal mantra of the Knights Inquisitor. They did not ask why, they merely followed the King's commands as they were given. As men whose only route to anything greater than what they had lay through the King, there was no other choice.

"What was her treason?" Maekar asked, his curiosity piqued. He would carry out his duty, as required, regardless, and that his resolve was solid was plain on his face, but he could not help but wonder what she had done, to cause the King to condemn her to death.

"The only way that one could become Queen was if she ate the pair of them alive," he muttered, half under his breath but perfectly audibly. "It will be done, then, once Oldtown has been taken."