"No sorrier than I am to tell it," Elia said with a sound that might have been a laugh.
"Monterys," she tested the name carefully. It was familiar somehow... an outlaw of some sort, perhaps? One of many names on a paper on Paegon's desk some lifetime ago... Curiosity had her and more than that, she was thinking. Elia's lips turned up in a smile that half of Dorne knew to worry at. "Monterys, can you walk? Are you hurt? Please, tell me true," she pleaded. "Your voice is weak..." She moved carefully to avoid pulling the stitches on her side as she sat up. It was time again for action. "But if you are strong enough, there is always hope..."