The fountain was, in fact, Dornish. Myrwin often came to that spot, to reflect and enjoy an echo of his hot and dusty home. But today there was a radiant young creature dangling her fingers in the pool. Heart-shaped face, a slender but rounded form, and best of all, a look of dull stupidity in her eyes.
Perfect.
He could use a little sport.
"Well, hello my Lady." he said extravagantly, bowing to the young little scrap of nothing.