Sansa had no idea she was going to say what she said. And to Tywin Lannister at that matter! Where did she find the courage to say that? Where? Had she not been Queen, her head would probably be already on top of a spike for everyone in Westeros to see. What in Seven Hells was she thinking?

Oh, her head swam for even recalling the murderous look on Tywin's face. She stopped walking and took a deep breath. Her hand gently reached for the wall for support. The stress must have taken a toll on her. After all, being the Queen of a kingdom at war was very tiresome.

She gave herself a minute and finally righted herself when the feeling ebbed away. The women and the Queen Regent was still waiting for her below. She needed to come get them. Finding her husband could wait – or so she thought.

"My wife!" an all-too-familiar voice called.

Sansa turned around feeling like a thorn was plucked out of her heart.Thank the Gods he's alive!

Joffrey was holding his sword in an awkward manner, looking a little wild and unfocused. Sansa noticed an arrow-less crossbow hanging from his waist. To her horror, his left side was covered in splatters of blood and his right side was smeared with something that looked like soot. She wasted no time walking and immediately ran to him.

The King dropped his sword and caught her in an embrace. "What are you doing outside?" he asked, inhaling her scent.

Sansa gently pushed on his chest to take a closer look at him. "It doesn't matter. Are you hurt, my king?"

"No, I'm fine," he said.

"But there's blood–"

"It's not mine," Joffrey cut off.

Sansa sighed at that. "Thank the Gods,"

He took hold of her arm and pulled her even closer to him. "Now, answer me, what are you doing outside? I went to the chambers you were supposed to be in but you weren't there. Why exactly did you go out?"

She knew he hadn't meant it in a threatening way but she was so relieved that she couldn't speak. All the pent up fear and worry since the attack started to bubble up her throat and sooner than she expected it, she started sobbing against the King's breastplate.

Joffrey didn't know what to do. He certainly wasn't expecting her to be reacting this way. He was simply asking her a question, wasn't he? Why did his wife cry? Did he frighten her?

"Forgive me, my Queen, did I frighten you?" he whispered as he held her close, making her feel that he wasn't angry.

Sansa shook her head. "I was terrified, Joffrey. I was so scared that I wasn't going to see you again. I didn't want them to take you away from me. I couldn't lose you. I just couldn't,"

It was true. Behind all the composure she had in the chamber with all the ladies of the Court, was an underlying fear for her husband's safety. She just got married. There was no way she was going to be a widow in a few days. And besides, if she was allowed to be honest with herself, the only thing that was keeping Cersei Lannister from casting her aside was Joffrey and his affections for her. She was under his protection and if he died, there was no one to protect her from anyone anymore.

The King kissed her forehead gently as he hushed her. "I'm here now. Don't weep, my love. I'm here. No one will take me away from you. Just as no one would ever take you away from me,"

Olenna Tyrell was beyond furious. The Lannisters had promised her granddaughter the Crown! That old, good-for-nothing man promised Margaery would be Queen! Did the damn lions keep their damn promises? No.

They were too stupid to do that.

She and her grandchildren were woken up early that morning to sit in Court to watch as the boy King proclaimed his grandfather Hand of the King. Loras was going to be awarded there as well. It was where they were planning to ask Joffrey to take Margaery as his betrothed. Her beautiful granddaughter had been ecstatic when she was presented the news.

They should've known they were too late.

Joffrey Baratheon hated ceremonies. Everybody knew that. But this particular ceremony, he was more than happy to comply with. He was deemed a hero and the true Protector of the Realm. He protected everyone in King's Landing from Stannis Baratheon and his fleet. And above all, he had his beloved wife sitting right beside him where she belonged.

He watched with gleaming eyes as a man atop a white stallion galloped towards him.

"I, Joffrey of the House Baratheon, first of my name, the rightful King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, do hereby proclaim my grandfather, Tywin Lannister, the Saviour of the City and the Hand of the King,"

A servant with a small pillow kneeled before him as the King placed the brooch on top of it. His grandfather took the brooch from the servant and bowed. "Thank you, Your Grace,"

Joffrey took a glance at his wife who was sitting to his right. She smiled lovingly at him. This made him feel even more proud as he called Petyr Baelish to step forward.

"For your good services, I declare that you shall be granted the castle of Harrenhal with all of its attendant lands and incomes to be held by your sons and grandsons from this day until the end of time."

He personally didn't like this weasel-looking man and he certainly didn't like the way he was trying to flatter him right now.

Baelish kneeled. "You honour me beyond words, Your Grace. I shall have to acquire some sons and grandsons," he said which only added to Joffrey's irritation at him.

Sansa shifted in her seat which Joffrey noticed. He should have to ask her what's wrong after the ceremony.

"Ser Loras Tyrell," he called.

The Knight of Flowers stepped forward dutifully.

"Your house has come to our aid. The whole realm is in your debt, none more so than I. If your family would ask anything of me, ask it, and it shall be yours."

His mother had insisted on granting them this one favor. Joffrey had reminded her that it was their duty to protect the Capital and they did not need to be rewarded for doing their duty but it was finally Sansa who convinced him.

The Tyrell heir kneeled before him, draped in combined colors of Houses Baratheon and Tyrell. "Your grace," he started, "my sister Margaery, her husband was taken from us before–"

Joffrey raised an eyebrow at him. The knight looked like he was about to burst to tears. Distantly, he recalled rumors about him and his late Uncle Renly. Were they true?

"She remains innocent," he finally said, regaining composure, "I would ask you to find it in your heart to do us the great honour of joining our houses,"

Sansa resisted the urge to run down and strangle Loras Tyrell. Once long ago, she had swooned at him at a tourney. But now he just looked like a blabbering idiot to her. Was he seriously asking Joffrey – her Joffrey to marry that sister of his? And right in front of her on top of that?

She sent the knight a sharp glare but he was too busy staring up at the King to notice. She shouldn't have convinced Joffrey to grant them his favor. She should've just let the King do as he liked and not award the one house that came to their aid if she only knew they would outwardly try to undermine her marriage like they were doing now.

Joffrey remained silent for a while until he leaned down and addressed the Tyrell girl directly. "Is this what you want, Lady Margaery?"

The girl stepped forward confidently with grace as proper as a lady. "With all my heart, Your Grace," she answered, "I have come to love you from afar. Tales of your courage and wisdom have never been far from my ears. And those tales have taken root deep inside of me."

If looks could kill, that girl would've been dead the moment she had said the word love. How dare she say that in front of the Queen? Was she not aware that Joffrey and her are married? Sansa was almost trembling with rage but she did her best not to demand her head on a spike.

Several ladies of the Court gasped. Clearly, they were surprised that the Lady of Flowers was not aware of the King's marriage.

"I, too, have heard tales of your beauty and grace, but the tales do not do you justice, my lady," the King said.

Sansa swore to the old Gods and the new if that girl so much as stays in King's Landing for more than a day, it would be the last day of her life. Her dear husband would need to have some serious explaining to do tonight, as well.

Joffrey smirked. "It would be an honour to return your love, but I am already married to another. I apologize if your house has not been informed. It seemed that Stannis' forces intercepted all ravens coming to and fro King's Landing,"

The young Queen felt herself shift from glowering to beaming. Even more so when Joffrey reached for her hand and kiss the back of her palm.

"I present to you, my beautiful wife, Queen Sansa of House Stark,"

Sansa smiled proudly. It didn't matter that Joffrey tried to trick that Tyrell girl with his flattery. He still chose her. He would always choose her.

She could tell that the girl was surprised. Really surprised. And well, she wasn't pleased either.

Joffrey squeezed her hand before he let it go. "However, a king must keep his word. Your brother asked for our houses to be united. There are more ways to unite our houses. If you would, you may take my younger brother, Tommen, as your betrothed."

At that Cersei immediately spoke up. "Your Grace, your brother is yet to be of age–"

"Which is why they will remain betrothed until he comes of age. Just like me and Sansa did before," the King cut off, "That is, of course, if the lady accepts,"

Joffrey looked expectantly at the girl who, as far as Sansa could tell, was clearly not pleased at the King's proposal. Who would want to be betrothed to a mewling babe? It was outrageous even to her. But she wasn't coming to this girl's rescue. No, not after she openly flirted with her husband.

"Well?" the King asked, starting to get impatient.

Finally, it was Loras Tyrell who responded. "It would be an honour, Your Grace," then, he faced Sansa, "My Queen, forgive our house for being ignorant. Please accept our apologies,"

Sansa smiled tightly. "You did no harm, Ser Loras,"

But I swear I will do your sister harm if she ever looks at my husband the way she did earlier. She thought.

"It's all settled, then? You will make your vows at the Great Sept of Baelor in the morrow," the King said.

"It will be our pleasure, Your Grace," Margaery said, finally righting herself and doing a graceful curtsy.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

A jealous Sansa is a scary Sansa. What more if it's a jealous, pregnant Sansa?

Review more guys! Love love xx - Lace