Alina's

Jeyne Yronwood, widow of the late Lord Aenar, arrived with two burly guardsmen. She stepped over the threshold, looking about with a curious expression.

"Master Delinaal." She greeted him with a smile. "It is very pleasant to see you again. I hope I do not intrude? I simply came in for a cool drink."

She smiled sweetly, hating the pretence, since she couldn't let her know the meeting was deliberate.

Jeyne looked to her guards. "Go drink some ale at another table. I wish to speak with the good master." She sat opposite Sergio.

"Do you have Dornish red here?"

The drinks came soon enough. Jeyne thanked the woman then smiled at Sergio once they were as close to alone as was possible when she had her guards present.

"This is quite a nice establishment. It's yours, I think you said?"

The toyed with her wine glass. "You have a good eye for such things, it seems. If I may, I will stay to dine with you. I would like to try the food. Do you serve Braavosi dishes here?"

"Ah. The food in Kings Landing is not so bad, but a bit bland compared to the fiery Dornish dishes I ate as a child. We like lots of peppers at home. I once asked the castle cooks if they could prepare snake in pepper sauce. They looked at me as if I were the Stranger." Jeyne smiled sadly. "It has been so long since I ate Dornish food I probably couldn't even eat the hottest dishes now."

"Not for several years now. I went once, a few years before my husband died, but even then I had barely seen Dorne since my marriage. That is the usual way of it, in Westeros, and Dorne is known to be hostile to Targaryens." Jeyne sighed. "Were it not for my children, I would say I would have been better off had I remained in Dorne."

"Three. You met my son, Rhaegar. i have two daughters, Visenya and Elseyris. All are - were - dragonriders. Rhaegar and Elsey lost their dragons in the war. And yourself? What of your family?"

"That's sad." She reached over and touched his hand. "Was it long ago? Do you miss her?"

"Please don't feel you have to talk about her, but I don't mind if you do," she said. "I would love to know what she was like."

"Brave, proud, fierce," she said. "He was a romantic in the days of our courtship, but pride and ambition took over, especially towards the end. He doomed us all for his dreams of taking back the throne once held by his grandsire. He was killed in flight, by King Maegor himself. I had nightmares about it, that first year. It was the worst thing I have ever seen." She shuddered. "But for the grace of the gods, Aenar would be king now, and I his queen. But Aenar is dead and my children and I are hostages, and will remain so as long as Maegor lives."

Her voice bore a dull sadness of long and bitter acceptance of the horrible truth.