The Great Hall of the Red Keep

Cersei's lips curled into a smile. "Good, I see we have much and more in common then, Nymeria." She flattened her gown and placed her hands in her lap. "The relationship between Lannister and Martell has been...less than friendly in the past. It is time we finally bury this bloody axe and work together, for the good of the Realm." No more tricks today, she could see Nymeria was at the edge of her considerably short leash, any more pushing and Nymeria may do something that would force Cersei to take her head - a considerable step backwards. If Myrcaella was to suffer this maiming it may at least bear fruit. "Nymeria Sand, you will occupy your father's seat on the council if you can prove your worth. Are you aware of the charges levied against me by the Faith?"

Ser Gerion bows his head once more.

Ser Devan will be sending a raven when the levies are gathered.

The Westermen Knight rises to report on the Westerlands.

As of right now, things are stable, Your Grace. Although, the Clegane Keep remains unoccupied and there is the matter of Martyn Lannister taking hold of the Lordship of Darry and joining with Lancel's former betrothed. However, Ser Devan reports that the levies seem almost dried up... he fears that future levies may become much smaller from this point onward.

”What would that be, Your Grace? I am no great warrior, but I will not dishonour you if I am called upon.”

Nymeria coolly answered. It seemed odd that she should be chosen to represent Cersei in a Trial by Combat, if that was to be the Queen’s intention. But, such a situation could be turned to her own advantage. And to Dorne’s.

If she died, her sisters would at least have their war. Nym looked amused, a grin tugging at the corners of her lips.

"You make me blush, Your Grace. But your Kingsguard have nothing to fear. There are few hidden places left in which I could hide a dagger."

The loose fitting silks she wore were almost transparent, Nymeria's slender form quite visible for all in the Red Keep to see. Dornish women did not typically leave much to the imagination.

"I am not the equal of my father, or even my sister. I will fight if you command it, your grace, but I have other talents that could be of service against dear King Tommen's enemies. And your own."

Ser Gerion takes a moment to consider what Devan stated on the arrival of the levies. He wasn't the best at... math, but memory served its purposes.

He stated that I would be ahead of the army by a few days.

The knight recalls.

However, he is aware that King's Landing is rather... constrained in its space. He requests that a friendly keep be utilized to billet the men on the land or perhaps utilize the men to take a traitorous castle and use it as a base within the Crownlands. I believe he stated House Farring being a possibility for the latter option. For the former, perhaps House Hayford, and their lands, to the North.

"Obara, who hunts for the Darkstar in the Red Mountains. The finest spear in Dorne, since my father's passing."

Nymeria asserted, confidently. Obara was strong and skilled, but angry and masculine. Her elder sister did not command the same womanly wiles.

"You heard my repute with daggers already, Your Grace. Let us say that those were not the only arts I learned in the Free Cities. I am at your service, great Queen, if you will have me."

She bowed her head in deference, swallowing her pride for the time being.

"Do you not have enough Kingsguard, your Grace? Surely Ser Jaime would defend your name before you had to turn to women for help."

Retorted Nymeria. Cersei was proving even more erratic than her uncle had warned.