William was no puppy; he was actually a wolf quite unhappy with the turn of events. He wasn't pleased with a Dragon princess being murdered beneath his roofs, nor was he happy with the Martell girl's attack--the culprit needed to be found, and quickly.
And for now, Dorne must be appeased. He steeled himself for the formidable prince, his only experience with the man through letters and gossip.
"My prince of Dorne," he started warmly enough, chancing a smile. "I hate your company was brought under such terrible circumstance."