#myriam: what if i just ...spoke to non dornish people

[myriamas]

who: @anya-snow what: continuation of this thread following the tumblr update. this is set prior to the murder of mors martell, in the period of time myriam was attempting to push herself beyond her comfort zone by engaging in political discussions and being overall, more present.

"oh?" myriam asked, surprise clearly inherent within her tone of voice at the notion of the woman having been in sunspear. or rather, at the strange moment of realising that this conversation had started somewhat more awkwardly than she had intended it to. then again, simply approaching someone and asking them to confirm their identity was also awkward in itself, was it not? "i must have lost you in the crowds back in sunspear." myriam spoke, resting her hands on either side of the blouse of her lehenga. the attire she wore was different in westeros, ever so slightly; a veiled shawl draping over the curve of her hips and her midriff, hiding what would usually be comfortably on sight. "i hope you enjoyed dorne, nonetheless. there is nowhere like it."

there was no denying the sense of immediate awkwardness that quietly settled in the air between the princess consort of dorne, and the member of the northern merchants guild upon confirming the woman had been in attendance of the gathering which had occurred in sunspear itself. truthfully, myriam did not remember noticing the young woman, though that could easily have been because myriam did not take it upon herself to notice the westerosi. "the prince's advisors informed me who you were when i asked." it was mors who dealt with westeros, and did that often; even in the beat of quiet that stood between them now, myriam briefly looked over her shoulders as she seemed as though she were moving aside in the way of another.

in reality, she were quickly scanning the crowded room filled with vines and thorns for the sight of her husband, as though making some form of swift eye contact would be enough to bring here to this conversation. her hair, silky straight up to her back, swirled as she did so. he was nowhere to be seen as of this moment, and so turned back towards anya. but the whole point of this was that she was supposed to do it alone. it were not as though she found conversing difficult, for myriam had always been a social butterfly that thrived the most when surrounded by those like her. but the rest of the world was not like her, or any other of the dornish; that could not be the deciding factor much longer.

perhaps she hesitated to speak for she was painfully aware of the accent that wrapped around her words, and often found herself wondering if she could even be understood - better to simply never open one's mouth at all.

"and so, you represent or sell yitish goods..valuables, in the north?" she asked. she found herself wanting to ask about the woman's heritage, but would not do so. her eyes did not remain upon the woman's face for too long. was that even the responsibility of the head of the merchants guild? myriam gave no explanation for her curiosity, though not intentionally; perhaps because she assumed her tone was casual, rather than accusatory or investigatory. perhaps she had made a misstep in not giving more context to her curiosity. "does it reap profit? i ask only because the northern people do not seem like they care much for what is beyond your wall."