"A scrap of silk," he sighed. "Imbued with the dreams- it's an old method. The courtesans in Braavos used it with more entirely lethal poisons to make poison gowns for their rivals."
He rubbed his neck, noting his entire body seemed to be aching with tension. He wanted to release it, to bury his sword in the heart of whatever bastard had done this. "It was not meant for the children... at first I thought Elia might have been taking the Dreams on purpose but Dreamers drink the stuff, or drop it in their eyes. To put it on cloth... they wanted her to walk into a trap without seeing it. Lost in the dreams, she might not even have screamed."
Jaehaerys turned to his cousin, his own eyes cold. "A poison so hard to bring to our shores, in silk costly enough only the richest men in the realm may own it? There are not many with the skill to embed the toxin so thoroughly, and fewer who could slip it into this court. There are not many who know that anyone of our blood is weaker against the Dreams' grasp. There are two answers I can find. One is the Citadel. The other is Queen Aeria."