When Dorne became one of the Seven Kingdoms, they agreed to replace the Westeros Law of Inheritance with the Dornish Law, so that the same laws would be followed throughout the realm. Or, Five times there was no male primogeniture in Westeros, and this wasn't as helpful as you might expect.

She has no care of the Iron Throne--yet, and then only who sits on it, leave her be. She is going to reclaim her home, the place she once despaired of, dreaming of the sun and songs of the south. She was a Stark of Winterfell, there had always been a Stark at Winterfell, tales Old Nan told if the Starks lost Winterfell for good, the winter would win. Her mother scoffed at the tales, Sansa had as well, but whispers are on the cold wind. Winter is Coming. She was going to see the Spring.

Lyanna Stark thwarts a kidnapping, and receives an interesting offer.

King's Landing swallows Dornish princesses and chokes on their bones.

“All right,” Ned Stark says. “You weren’t supposed to hear that. No one was supposed to, but I guess it’s my own damned fault for not keeping it to myself. Now, I know that if I told you to forget this you’d try, but I remember – I remember how it was when I was your age, myself. Boys of seven can forget that kind of promise easily, if they don’t know why they’re making it.” He takes in another breath. “Robb,” he says, his voice dropping so low it’s barely audible, “do you love your brother?” Or: in which Robb knows about Jon's true heritage all along.