A man in a silk mask

A man in purple velvet trim stands gracefully beside the fountain. His face is entirely concealed by the violet silk mask, but you get the impression he must be a great beauty underneath. You are drawn to him, and soon you are introducing yourself.

“My name is not important, Your Grace, I am but a humble servant.” The mysterious man answers. “I serve the Lannisters. Are you well acquainted, Your Grace?”

You explain to him that you arrived in Kings Landing to speak to the Lannisters about a possible alliance, explaining the current situation in Parre.

Although you cannot see the man’s face, you feel his stare harden beneath the mask. “So you seek an alliance too. I must leave to serve Lord Tywin now, Your Grace. I bid you farewell.”

As he walks past you his hand briefly meets your own and you feel the rustle of paper between your fingers. When you look down you find a small note. You decide to quickly return to your own chambers to read it.

“Meet me in the west wing wine cellar an hour before midnight”

You are intrigued. You realise that a servant of the Lannisters could definitely have some information that would be useful in forming an alliance. When the time comes, you travel to the west wing cellar and stand around anxiously.

It is not exactly busy in the wine cellar, but there are often servants here and there filling cups or moving barrels. You are not sure how anyone could have a discreet conversation in this place.

“Your Grace,” you hear someone say.

You see a man in the same purple velvet as before quickly walk past you and around a dark corner. Following him, he stops at a discreet little door and opens it with a golden key. The room is small and filled with caskets and barrels. Once you are both inside, the man turns around.

He is indeed as handsome as any man you have ever seen. Dark, golden brown skin with black hair, and a certain permanently naughty look in his eye. “You Grace,” he bows. “Oberyn Martell, if it please you.”

It doesn’t exactly please you, but it does confuse you. You are of course aware of the most powerful family in Dorne, the family who run the region in all but name. You ask the obvious questions, what he is doing here, and why he was wearing that mask.

“You seek alliances, Your Grace, and we Martells seek alliances too. But there is another thing we seek even more than this,” his smile flickers for one moment. “Justice. I came to King’s Landing in rags disguised as a poor man. With my wits and wiles I was soon raised to Lord Tywins personal servant, and now I am close enough to make my move. Lord Tywin must die for what he did to my sister, Your Grace, and I want you to help me do it. Help me and the Martell alliance will be yours.”

You are shocked by everything you are hearing. You cannot deny a Martell alliance could be vital for your countries safety and prosperity, but whatever Oberyn has planned sounds very risky.

You ask Oberyn what he would have you do.

“I am asking to be kidnapped, Your Grace.”

You wonder if you have heard him correctly.

“Yes, take me, King Rishard. Tie me up and throw me on a boat to Parre, I wish to be attacked, as loudly as possible, in the streets outside Chataya’s brothel where I escort Lord Tywin every week. While he is at his business, I often stand outside and chat with the lovely whores and whore-boys, if they shall see me be taken away by a mysterious brute, they will tell Lord Tywin of it, and I will be gone. Then we wait for the poison to slowly kill Lord Tywin, it is a slow acting poison you see, one that takes many weeks to kill, and by the time he lays dead, I will be long gone, and no one will suspect the kidnapped servant.”

It is a solid plan, and an easy way to win an alliance. The only problem is that Parre will inevitably be drawn into a long confrontation with House Lannister after the Martells inevitably attack Casterly Rock once the Lannister patriarch is dead.

You take a moment to consider your options.

“Your Grace,” Oberyn repeats. “Will you kidnap me? I would be most grateful.”