Olyvar did not often call for councils of the nobility.

He… did not think he had ever actually done so. Not since ascending to the Sun Throne.

Oh, yes, he had entertained nobles from every corner of the old principality, from his Blackmont cousins to the Yronwood Wardens of the Stoneway, but he had never called for them en masse, as he had just done. He’d either had no time, or reason, to do so. The first year of his reign had been spent floundering about in his desperate attempts to find his footing after Lorzea’s abdication and the deaths of his mother and father.

(The truth was, simply enough, that Olyvar had never wanted to. It reminded him too much of days long gone.)

But, now he did, and now he had to. He could not very well plan his nuptials without inviting his vassals. Whether they chose to come would be up to them, and he would be sending out ravens upon his return to Sunspear regardless, but the duty of inviting them still fell to him.

So, the Prince sent for his Lords and Ladies, inviting them to dinner. And, as they filed into the gathering area in his manse, the Prince moved to address them.

“My lords, my ladies,” he began. “Most of us, to my knowledge, shall be departing the city today, or come the morrow-- and I would be remissin my duties as the Prince on the Sun Throne to let you go without informing you of my betrothal, and to invite you to my wedding in three moons time. Some of you are already aware of this, either due to me having sought meetings with you, or you having sought me. But, to those of you who do not know, I am now set to marry the younger sister of Lord Vickon Greyjoy, Lady Gwynese Greyjoy."

“The nuptials will be held in Sunspear, the exact date to be sent to your holdfasts by raven, alongside any additional that might have come up in the time until then. Other than that… I think that is all. There are refreshments all around you, and dinner shall be served shortly, should you choose to stay.”

Then Olyvar paused, before adding one final thing.

“And… I do apologize, if any of you feel offended for having been ‘kept in the dark,'" he added truthfully. "The betrothal was only finalized two days ago, and I did not wish to prematurely announce anything. Hastiness is not my way, I’ve found. I thought it better to simply tell you all in one go, here, instead of seeking you out one by one.”

Having said his piece, Olyvar took his seat, and called for dinner to be served. He imagined his vassals had many questions (read: complaints) for him, and though he dreaded having to wade through them, he would do so nonetheless. So long as it was for Dorne.

Everything for Dorne.

Everything for Dorne.