Kingsgrave was not where Ormond had thought to meet the Lord Fowler-- but, he supposed, it was good a place as any. Ormond could not allow him to go any further, regardless, not anymore. Ormond had his orders.

No matter how much said orders gave him pause. The words were his Prince's, yes, but... they were not like the Prince. The instructions he had been given, the orders meant for Lord Fowler... they were cruel, cruel in a way Ormond knew was not the way of his Prince. The raid Fowler had commit had angered the Prince greatly, he knew, but this--

Gripping the orders in his fist, the Dornishman sighed, and cast his worries aside. They mattered not. His Prince's will had been given, and he would see to it that it was done.

And so, to the host of Fowler men marching home, he sent a rider.

---

"My Lord Fowler!" the rider called. "You are summoned! An envoy from Sunspear awaits you, with word from the Prince of Dorne!"

With that done, the rider nodded towards the Lord of Skyreach, gestured towards the tent set up behind him, and rode back.