Sorry, I thought it was just a common cold, but it's gotten worse these past two days, and I can't write much. Please bear with me. I'll catch up as soon as possible in the next few days. Thank you.
In the Throne Room, the tapestries and hangings King Robert had loved most in his lifetime were all torn down and piled haphazardly in a corner, leaving the walls bare.
Ser Mandon Moore went to stand guard at the foot of the Throne, alongside two other Kingsguard brothers, so Sansa, who was lingering by the door, was temporarily unsupervised. The Queen Regent had granted her the freedom to come and go as she pleased within the Castle as a reward for her good behavior. But even so, wherever she went, someone followed closely. "These are honor guards for my future daughter-in-law," the Queen Regent called them, but Sansa didn't feel respected at all.
The so-called "freedom to come and go within the Castle" meant she could move freely within the Red Keep, as long as she promised not to go beyond the City Walls. Sansa was happy to comply with this request. Firstly, the City Gate was guarded day and night by Janos Slynt's gold cloaks or Lannister warriors, so she couldn't possibly leave anyway. Secondly, even if she did leave the Castle, where would she go? She was content just to take a walk in the Squares, pick a few flowers in Myrcella's Garden, or visit the Sept to pray for her father. Sometimes she would also pray in the Godswood, as House Stark worshipped the old Gods.
Today was Joffrey's first time holding court since his coronation, and Sansa looked around nervously. A line of Lannister guards stood beneath the west window, while the City Watch in their golden cloaks stood beneath the east window. She didn't see any Commoners, and in the spectators' gallery, there was only a small group of Nobles pacing restlessly. There were no more than twenty of them; in King Robert's time, there would often be over a hundred attendees.
Sansa entered the spectators' gallery, weaving her way towards the front row while murmuring greetings to people. She recognized the dark-skinned Jalabhar Xho, the downcast Ser Aron Santagar, and the Redwyne twins, Ser Horas and Ser Hobber... but none of them seemed to recognize her. Or perhaps they did, but avoided her as if she were the plague. The gaunt Lord Gyles covered his face and pretended to cough violently when he saw her approach, and the drunken and comical Ser Dontos was about to greet her when Ser Balon Swann whispered something in his ear, and he turned his head away.
So many others were missing. Where had everyone else gone? Sansa wondered. She fruitlessly searched for friendly faces, but no one would look her directly in the eye. She felt like a ghost, already declared dead before her time.
Grand Maester Pycelle sat alone at the council table, hands propped under his beard, looking as if he were asleep. Then, she saw Lord Varys hurry into the hall, walking silently. A moment later, Lord Baelish also walked in through the main door, smiling, chatting amiably with Ser Balon and Ser Dontos as he moved towards the front of the hall. Sansa's stomach twisted into knots, as if full of fluttering butterflies. I shouldn't be afraid, she told herself. I have nothing to fear. Everything will turn out well, because Little Joff loves me, and the Queen Regent loves me. She said so herself.
The Master of Ceremonies' voice rang out: "Presenting His Majesty Joffrey I of the House Baratheon and Lannister, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. Presenting His Majesty's Mother, the Light of the West, Protector of the Realm, Queen Regent, Her Majesty Cersei of the House Lannister."
Ser Barristan Selmy, in his brilliant White Armor, led them in. Ser Arys Oakheart escorted the Queen Regent, and Ser Boros Blount walked beside Joffrey. All six Kingsguard were in the hall now, all the White Knights gathered, only Jaime Lannister was absent. Her White Knight—no, now her King!—climbed the steps of the Iron Throne two at a time, while his Mother sat with the high lords. Little Joff wore a black velvet doublet embroidered with red threads, a gleaming high-collared gold-threaded cloak, and a Golden Crown inlaid with rubies and black diamonds.
Joffrey turned and looked around the hall, his eyes meeting Sansa's. He smiled, slowly sat down, and then spoke: "It is the King's duty to punish traitors and reward the loyal. Grand Maester Pycelle, I command you to read my judgment."
Pycelle stood up, dressed in lavish attire, a heavy red velvet robe with a sable collar, bright gold trim, and long, drooping sleeves adorned with gilded scrollwork. He pulled a roll of Parchment from his sleeve, unrolled it, and began to read a long list of names, commanding them, in the name of the King and his high lords, to appear before the court immediately to swear fealty. Should they refuse, they would be considered traitors, and their lands and titles would be confiscated by the Royal Family.
The names he read made Sansa hold her breath: Duke and Duchess Stannis Baratheon and their daughter, Duke Renly, the Lord Royce brothers and their sons, Ser Loras Tyrell, Duke Mace Tyrell and his brothers, uncles, and sons, Red Priest Thoros of Myr, Lord Tarth, Lady Lysa Arryn and her son Little Robert, Duke Hoster Tully and his brother Ser Brynden and his son Ser Edmure, Lord Jason Mallister, Lord Bryce Caron of the Marches, Lord Tytos Blackwood, Marquess Walder Frey and his heir Ser Stevron, Lord Karyl Vance, Lord Jonos Bracken, Lady Shella Whent, Prince Doran Martell of Dorne and all his children. So many people, she thought as she listened to Pycelle drone on. Just sending out these commands will require a whole flock of ravens.
Finally, near the end, the name Sansa had long feared appeared: Lady Catelyn Stark, Robb Stark, Brandon Stark, Rickon Stark, Arya Stark. Sansa almost cried out. Arya? They actually wanted Arya to come to court and swear fealty... This meant her Sister must have already escaped by ship and returned safely to Winterfell...
Grand Maester Pycelle rolled up the list, tucked it into his Left Hand sleeve, and drew another Parchment from his right sleeve. He cleared his throat and continued to read: "To replace the traitor Eddard Stark, in accordance with His Majesty the King's will, the Duke of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West, Tywin Lannister, shall assume the office of Hand of the King, to govern in the King's name, lead the army to quell the rebellion, and convey his will. By order of His Majesty, with the assent of the high lords."
"To replace the traitor Stannis Baratheon, in accordance with His Majesty the King's will, the Queen Regent Cersei Lannister shall assume his office as a high lord of the court, to assist in governing the realm with wisdom and judging with justice, with consistent and reliable support. By order of His Majesty, with the assent of the high lords."
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