Today, Trystane taught me how to play cyvasse—a proper Dornish lesson, not just moving pieces, but understanding strategy and patience. I lost every game, of course, but he smiled each time and said, 'Again.' It's strange to think that a game of war can feel so peaceful when played beside a fountain, with the scent of orange blossoms in the air. I'm starting to understand why my mother always warned me about Dorne's 'dangerous' ways... she never mentioned how gently they could change a person.