Sansa
But nothing terrible happened. She remained alive and came to her senses after a couple of minutes. Tyrion lay next to her, breathing heavily and silent.
And she was silent too.
They both wanted to say something, yet that night neither of them could find the right words. Then Sansa pulled her knees up to her chest, turned her back to Tyrion, and pretended to be asleep.
In the morning, Tyrion was not in bed, and she allowed herself to cry — this was not how she had imagined her first, most important night!
Her first sexual experience left a strange aftertaste. Yet it had burst into her life and changed something in her. Sansa did not yet understand what that was, nor whether it was good or bad.
She burned with shame as she looked at the sheet. It seemed to her that now the whole castle would know about it.
And that was exactly what happened. By lunchtime, the servants were looking at her with a strange mixture of emotions, as if they did not know whether to be happy or sad.
That day, the whole of King's Landing was celebrating again — it was the tournament in honor of Joffrey and Margaery. And it was then that Sansa understood firmly that changes had come into her life.
Joffrey seemed like a different person. In the past two days, she had not heard a single rude or cruel word from him. Sansa did not know the reason for this, but she assumed that Tyrion had spoken to his nephew and that he had finally left her alone. For this, she was ready to meet her husband halfway.
Tyrion made love to her every night. And each time, she reached the peak of bliss. These moments left her with a strange, indescribable feeling — disappointment mixed with joy, confusion mixed with pleasure. And the disgust she felt for Tyrion slowly receded, covered by a hazy mist, no longer seeming so important or so overwhelming.
One day, Margaery invited her for a walk, and she gladly accepted her friend's invitation.
All these days, Margaery clearly had no interest in anyone but her Joffrey — Sansa could see it in her eyes, overflowing with the bright warmth of love and happiness. And it began to irritate her deeply.
For the first time in days, they were alone — the girls from the queen's retinue had fallen behind a little as they strolled through the park, and the two of them had a very frank conversation.
They had much to talk about. Both had lost their maidenheads on the same night; and a little embarrassed, they spoke precisely of that.
However, Margaery was not particularly candid. She only mentioned, blushing slightly, that everything had gone like a fairy tale, and she had never even dreamed of such a thing.
Sansa's heart tightened with envy. Joffrey might have been a real monster, but he was also one of the most handsome young men she had ever met. It was damn unfair that Margaery had received so many good things — that Joffrey treated her completely differently, that she had become queen, that she had a good, kind family — while Sansa had only one husband: Tyrion the Imp. And Sansa could not restrain herself:
"I can't believe Joffrey can be so tender," she said thoughtfully, gazing into the distance and slowly twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "Remember, Margaery, I told you what he's really like? Remember I told you how I was beaten on his orders? Could I have been wrong about him?
"I used to think differently about him too!"
"Didn't you think he was just wearing a mask for a while? And that sooner or later he would get bored of this game?"
"You're wrong to say that," Margaery frowned, a small wrinkle forming between her eyebrows.
Then Margaery said nothing more on the matter, but after a while Sansa realized with horror that by allowing envy into her heart, she had made a huge mistake. Margaery did not see Joffrey as a monster, and Sansa's words had not made her doubt her husband, but rather led her to believe that Sansa was simply jealous and spiteful.
Margaery continued inviting her occasionally to sit with the other girls while they embroidered or read or simply having fun discussing about tournaments and knights. Everything seemed to go on as before. But Sansa understood that she had lost that fragile thread of trust Margaery had only just begun to feel toward her.
And Sansa thought about this. She still hated all the Lannisters (well, perhaps except for two: the smallest one, Tyrion, and the youngest, Tommen), but now she realized that if she wanted to achieve anything, she would have to act very, very carefully.
One day, Tyrion — accompanied by his squire Pod and Ser Bronn — went to the Small Council. Two maids went into town to do some shopping. And just as she had just sat down on the couch and was about to begin embroidering when there was a knock at the door. She allowed to enter and was greatly surprised to see a very large, broad-shouldered, ungainly woman with a broken nose and straw-colored hair.
At first, Sansa did not even immediately realize that this was a woman and not a man. Dressed in chain mail and plate armor with shoulder guards, a sword at her belt, trousers and high boots, this woman could surprise anyone.
The warrior's gaze was direct and honest, sweeping across the rooms before settling on Sansa. Realizing that they were alone, the guest did not hesitate. She drew her sword, rested its tip on the floor, and knelt on one knee:
"Lady Sansa, I am Brienne of Tarth. Allow me to serve you. I swear by the Seven that I will never fail you, and I am ready to give my life for you!"
(End of Chapter)
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