Had it not been for the war, Sansa and Joffrey would have been long married. Instead, she was sitting in court, listening to the King and his acting Hand, Lord Tyrion Lannister, argue about wars and weddings.

King Joffrey wanted to marry her right away - much to Sansa's surprise - but the Imp said it was impractical because Stannis Baratheon could march right into the Red Keep any moment and it would not do them any good to be caught off-guard. Frankly, Sansa agreed with Lord Tyrion but a more selfish part of her wanted to be Queen as soon as possible so she kept her mouth shut and let the little lord reason with his King.

The exchange lasted for a good half an hour or so until the Queen Mother came and dismissed their argument for another time. By then everyone was on the edge, waiting for one of them to attack the other. After that, Sansa excused herself but Joffrey was too mad to care about her absence.

"Lady Stark."

Sansa whirled around swiftly, shivers running down her spine. Nobody else seemed to call her a Stark save from the acting Hand of the King. In long intervals since she had been the Intended of the King, she had forgotten what being a Stark in King's Landing meant. Times with the Imp was not one of those.

She plastered on a ladylike smile - one her septa taught her. "My Lord," she greeted.

Lord Tyrion Lannister was a man of his word, or so it seemed to her for the past few weeks. As promised, he managed to help Sansa send a message to Robb. Sansa knew her brother would be difficult but she was not expecting him to be extremely aggressive towards his claim in the North.

She sent three ravens since the Imp offered his help and she was nowhere near convincing her brother to lay down his sword. He was adamant with his revenge. Sansa feared it would be too late when she manages to convince him.

The little lord handed her a scroll of parchment sealed with the direwolf sigil of House Stark. "The North remembers, sister. It would do you well to remember who you are and who you are with." the scroll said.

Irritation crawled up her skin and she wanted to ball up the parchment and throw it across the hall but she composed herself, exactly like a real Queen would do. So she folded up the scroll and hid it inside her sleeve.

"Well, that certainly was not what I wanted to hear," she exhaled, facing Tyrion.

The Imp cocked an eyebrow, intrigued. "Your brother does not wish to surrender?"

Sansa shook her head. She wanted to ask him what to do but she could not bring herself to do it. And as if Tyrion could read her thoughts, he spoke to her.

"If I may speak my mind, my lady," he started.

"You may,"

Tyrion cleared his throat. "A man like your brother would very unlikely bow down to our King. After all, he was the King who ordered your father's execution,"

Sansa sent him a sharp glare. "My father was a confessed traitor. The King only did what he had to do,"

"He's your father, nevertheless," the Imp said, looking taken aback.

The young lady remained silent at that. She did not understand why Lord Tyrion was saying those words. Was he trying her loyalty? Did the Queen put him up to this? The silence lasted for a few minutes. Sansa was starting to run out of words to use to convince Robb and if she failed, then it would be the end of it.

She had no choice left. She had to talk to the King about it.

Joffrey was fuming with anger.

It was beyond his comprehension how in seven hells could his uncle answer him like that! Tyrion was speaking to him as if he was a child. He was not. He knew he was not. Not anymore at least. He had stopped being a child the moment he had Eddard Stark executed.

The King could do as he wished. He thought.

That was what his father did, anyway. Robert Baratheon did not care what his people thought of him. He drank and whored himself into an early grave. Everybody said that it was an accident. Joffrey initially thought it was. He did - until he heard some rumors circling around about his Father's death.

He turned to the side to look for Sansa. She was looking rather more beautiful each day and she looked beautiful especially today. She had on the dress he ordered for her. It was a golden dress, with red embroidery on edges. It was a Baratheon look and it suited her.

Joffrey found himself drowning out his uncle's voice while he stared at his betrothed. Sansa was speaking to some lady beside her. Joffrey grinned at how-

"Are you listening to me?"

He snapped back to attention and saw his mother talking to his uncle Tyrion. Somehow his mother had gotten there without him noticing and was now talking with the Imp. Then, Cersei faced him and subtly suggested to continue the discussion some other day.

Joffrey almost laughed at how his mother tried to talk him down. She thought he did not understand what was at stake. She thought he was still a child just as his uncle did. He fought the urge to put her in her place and nodded tightly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sansa exit the room.

The entire court affair had been tedious after his mother recommended to have the talk about the wedding arrangements in another time. Joffrey listened to all of the people's complaints like a good king until he could not take it anymore.

His mother said that it had to be done. He had asked her to appoint someone else to the court hearings but Cersei said that it was his duty as the King. Joffrey felt like it was a chore and he hated every single second of it. The only time that it was easier was when Sansa was there.

After a mother came to him claiming that her child was taken from her, he put the hearing to a stop. It was all too overbearing for him and it put him in a terrible mood.

"Are you alright, love?" his Mother's voice echoed behind him as he exited the throne room.

Joffrey wanted to snap at her but he tried his best to maintain his composure. He would not lose grace in front of anyone - even his own mother.
He turned around and faced Cersei. "I'm fine, Mother. I just want to sleep before it's time for supper,"

The Queen Regent gave him a tight smile. "Rest well, son,"

Sansa wasted no time waiting and immediately went to the King's Chambers - no matter how unladylike it was. She was determined to lose neither her betrothal nor her family. Under no circumstances would Robb march into the city and attack the Red Keep. She would not be made to choose between the Crown and family because she would never choose one over the other.

When she told the guard posted in front of the door that she was to meet the King, it was impossible not to miss the strange look he gave her, like she was some whore he could not wait to have.

Look at me that way again and you will lose your eyes, ser. She thought.

She stepped inside the room. It was gigantic - almost thrice the size of her chambers and hers was already huge. To her left was a partition for dressing; to her front was a table filled with different kinds of fruits and a bottle of wine; and to her right was the King's bed. Beside it was the King himself and a servant boy helping him undress.

Despite herself, Sansa blushed and turned around, figuring whatever she had to say could wait until Joffrey finished changing clothes, but he already saw her.

"My lady, what a surprise," he said, genuinely smiling.

It was strange to see Joffrey smiling kindly like that. And somehow it had become an instinct to her to anticipate something bad to happen whenever he looked like that.

Sansa faced the King, still blushing profusely. "I-I should come back later, Your G-Grace,"

Joffrey slapped the servant's hand away irritated. "Stop already! Do you not see my lady's distress? Out! I will call for you when I need you again,"

Sansa followed the boy with her eyes. The boy bowed with a slight tremble and dashed out of the room with his head tilted towards the floor.

"I apologize, my lady." the King said.

She turned to look at him and strangely, her eyes landed on his half-covered chest.

He approached her as he buttoned up his tunic, finally covering everything and snapping Sansa back to attention. "You wanted to talk to me?"

"Uhh...y-yes, Your Grace," she swallowed, "It's about my brother, Robb."

Joffrey's face lost the mirth it had when she walked in. Instead, now she was faced with his stone hard demeanor.

He stepped towards her, their faces only inches away, "What about your traitor brother, my lady?"

Sansa wanted to cower back and get out but she figured she had to do this so she inhaled slowly and then exhaled.

"I had not been telling you everything, My King. Strike me if you will but please don't leave me. I'm not sure I will be able to bear it," she said.

The King's face suddenly went from stoic to murderous but it did not faze Sansa. What made her afraid was the calm in his voice when he told her to continue speaking. And then everything spilled out of her mouth - from the day she first sent a message up to the moment just before she entered his room. She spoke hurriedly, all the while watching the King for any indication that he might cast her aside after all. By the time she finished she was out of breath and dizzy and terrified.

Joffrey let out a deep sigh and turned his back at her without a word. Sansa felt her eyes sting, her conflicting emotions towards her family and Joffrey making her heart ache with pain. She sniffed as silently as she could, trying hard to keep herself from crying but her eyes were already blurry with tears. Outside she could hear the faint sound of the waves crashing to the shore and she thought the silence in the room was enough to drown her right now.

She was certain that he would send her away and end their engagement. There would be no little princes and princesses. No wedding. No Joffrey. Then the King faced her, his hands clasped together behind him.

"Why are you telling me this, Sansa?" Joffrey whispered, looking straight into her eyes.

Sansa thought she saw pain in his expression but it was hard to tell because her eyes could not focus from the tears. She felt him step closer to her.

"Answer me," he said silently.

She tried to blink her tears away and when she did, the first thing she saw was Joffrey's face - his strangely genuine face.

"I've come to ask you to talk to him personally, my King," Sansa finally managed to say.

Something passed across Joffrey's face and all of a sudden he grabbed her by the arm, snarling. At the back of Sansa's mind she knew what would happen. She knew what she was going to do might anger the King but she did it anyway.

"You think I would spare your traitor brother's life just because you asked me to?" the King hissed.

It took everything she could do, just not to tremble under him. This is it. This is it. She thought, defeated. It was over between them. She was not going to be Queen after all.

A tear from her right eye fell and dropped on the King's hand. Then, her tears suddenly flowed like river. It was too much. The conflicting emotions inside her were too much. She slowly felt her entire resolve crumble in front of Joffrey.

"I'm sorry, my King," she hiccuped. "I'm sorry. Please don't discard our engagement,"

Joffrey dropped her arm. "Is that why you're weeping? Because you do not want the engagement to end?"

Sansa wiped her eyes and looked up. The king was looking at her with a new-found interest and she was suddenly nervous.

"You selfish, selfish girl," he whispered, all spite, "You just wanted the crown, not me,"

Her heart nearly dropped on the floor. "That's not true," she replied.

Sansa's mind was reeling. She was starting to lose Joffrey from her grasp and it terrified her more than anything. It was a confusing thing, what she was feeling, but all she knew was that she did not want to lose him in any way.

"You lied to me!" the King suddenly yelled, loud enough to shake the entire keep. "You told me you care for me but you only cared for yourself! Is your loyalty false, too? I suppose it is since you have been speaking to your traitor brother behind my back-"

"Because I love you and I do not want him to come charging here, going after your head!" Sansa answered back.

The exchange must have taken aback both of them since they both have the similar look of surprise on their faces. Joffrey stepped even closer to her, their bodies almost touching. She was terrified he was going to hit her but she supposed it was better than being casted aside.

"What did you say?" Joffrey asked, slowly and clearly.

Sansa looked into his eyes and tried to find something that would give away what he was thinking but there were none. "I love you," she whispered, terrified he would laugh at her.

But then the King surprised her when he pulled her against him and caught her in a tight embrace.

Joffrey inhaled deeply. "Say that again," he said, sighing.

"I love you, Joffrey. I have loved you since I first laid my eyes on you. Even when you had my father executed, I loved you still. I should hate you, but I cannot," she confessed, finally realizing her words rang true.

The King let go of her. He looked at her straight in the eye. "You have no idea how much you have made me happy, my lady,"

Then he lifted her chin and kissed her full on the mouth.