The woman on the other side of the mirror was so different from the girl who had come to King's Landing. Sansa's body was growing more every day. She was taller than ever now and her childish gowns she had come south with would not even fit over her chest, let alone to the floor. She had used what little funds she had left to commission a few new gowns and her handmaidens were lacing her into one of them now. They were all dark, muted colors to keep her out of Joffrey's radar, but were made with fine silk and cut to fit her growing figure and make her look like a true lady. This one was a sage green with fine, grey myrish lace decorating the bodice and sleeves. The hint of grey was the closest Sansa would dare to wear her house colors and she figured the green would appeal to her company today.
She was waiting for Sir Loras to arrive and escort her to the gardens. The letter Lady Margaery had sent her this morning had politely requested her to have tea with the ladies of Highgarden. Sansa didn't know what to think of the invitation, but could hardly turn it down. She was hopeful in regards to the Reach ladies, remembering how kind and handsome Sir Loras had been when she had first seen him. She knew she would never forget being singled out from the crowd and she had kept the red rose he had given her until it had rotted away. So much had happened since that tourney, she hoped the handsome knight would remember her. When the knock came to her door, she felt her breath quicken. Chella rolled her eyes at Sansa's excitement, but moved to open the door, revealing the knight.
Sir Loras looked as dazzling as he had that day in his shining green and gold armour. His brown curls framed his smooth face perfectly and Sansa felt her heart pound as her cheeks flooded with heat. Sir Loras smiled at her and offered her his arm.
"My Lady, you grow more beautiful by the day. Please let me escort you to the gardens" his strong, deep voice made her grin with a blush as she stepped forward and allowed him to lead her away.
As they walked through the keep, Sansa was surprised to find the conversation rather stilted. In an effort to get him talking, she asked him about his horses and his tourney wins, knowing it was in his interests. But while he answered her politely and with a smile, it didn't seem as if he cared about the conversation. She recalled how detailed Tyrion's description of the Rock was: how he had described the way the sunlight would bounce off the water below and make the castle walls sparkle at sunset. She smiled inwardly, remembering how she had told him about the silent, cold sunrises on the walls of Winterfell. How the pale pink of the sky had made the freshly fallen snow look like rose colored silk. Small details about her home that she had wanted to share with him.
"What's your favorite part of Highgarden, my lord? I've read about it and it sounds so intriguing." She was eager to hear more about the plentiful Reach. Hoping that he would give her some insight as Tyrion had.
But Loras only shrugged slightly. "The training grounds, I suppose? I haven't really thought about it. But that is where i spend most of my time."
Sansa tried not to be disappointed with his shallow answer, just swallowed tightly as they fell back into an awkward silence. "That must be why you're so talented on the tourney field" she finally said and he smiled at her. "You probably don't remember, but that was when we first met, with you on the field for the Hand's Tourney." She was surprised when Loras looked at her skeptically, clearly confused. Had he forgotten? He must remember-he had singled her out from all the other lovely maids there. It had been such a huge moment for her. Probably the first time she felt like a true, grown lady. "You...you gave me your favor?" she tried, but he again just shrugged and continued onward, as if it hardly mattered. Annoyance flooded through her and she tried again. "A rose...a red rose!"
Now he nodded patronizingly "Of course I did" he smiled and patted her hand as it rested on his arm. Sansa wanted to make him remember, give him more details, sure he would remember, but she bit her lip to stop herself. She was being foolish, the moment that had been so important to her had clearly not meant anything to him. It had been a piece of pageantry, not anything real. Disappointed, she allowed him to finish the walk in silence. Loras clearly had no interest in asking her anything about herself or working at all to make conversation.
They finally came upon the Lady Margaery waiting for them. Sansa wouldn't have thought it five minutes ago, but she was desperate to be out of Sir Loras' company. Perhaps the Tyrell ladies would be of more substance. She was relieved when Loras simply bowed to her and left her with his sister.
Lady Margaery was just as beautiful as her brother. Her soft brown curls cascaded over her bare shoulders and back and her brown eyes were warm as she smiled at Sansa. She placed her arm around Sansa's shoulders familiarly as she pulled her towards the bustling gardens. "Come," she said with a dazzling smile, leading her through the throngs of giggling Reach women. They all parted for her, dipping in respectful curtseys. "Lady Sansa, it is my honor to present my grandmother, Lady Olenna of House Tyrell" Sansa was guided towards a seated old woman, who reached out her arm in greeting.
"Kiss me child" Sansa bent over to greet the woman and they exchanged in light-hearted pleasantries. Sansa expressed her condolances over Lord Renly's death which seemed to spark some fire in Lady Olenna. Sansa's eyes widened in shock as she listened to the old woman cut down Renly, Loras, and even her son, the lord of Highgarden. Margaery tried to temper her grandmothers words, but Sansa found herself smiling, loving the harsh honesty from the woman.
"Grandmother! What will Sansa think of us?"
"She may think that we have some wits about us. Some of us anyway" Olenna gestured towards the babbling Reach men and women around them. "It was treason, I told them. Robert has two sons and Renly has an older brother. How can he possibly have any claim to that ugly iron chair? We should have stayed well out of all this, if you ask me. But once the cow's been milked, there's no squirting the cream back up her udder, so here we are to see things through. What do you say to that, Sansa?" Lady Olenna's fierce gaze turned to her and Sansa struggled not to wilt under her eyes.
"Perhaps your son was blinded by the possible payout to worry about specifics...?" Perhaps speaking was a mistake, but Olenna looked at her apprasingly before nodding silently. "Come, Lady Sansa, we've had some lemon cakes made."
"Lemon cakes are my favorite!" Sansa couldn't help the wide smile that came to her face. She hadn't been able to partake in the delicacy in months, ever since Joffrey had become aware of her obsession. He had practically forbid the royal cooks to prepare them at feasts and so Sansa had gone without.
"So we've heard" Olenna said with an indulgent smile.
They seated themselves in the covered pavillion overlooking the bay and the Tyrell matriarch called for the food to be served.
"Do you know my son, Sansa?" Olenna asked her as Sansa took a large lemon cake from the pile on the table.
"I haven't had the pleasure, My lady."
Olenna snorted most unladylike "No great pleasure, believe me. A ponderous oaf. His father was an oaf as well. My husband, the late Lord Luthor. He managed to ride off a cliff whilst hawking. They say he was looking up at the sky and paying no mind to where his horse was taking him. And now my son is doing the same, only this time he's riding a lion instead of a horse." Her words started out pleasantly, but now she had narrowed her eyes at Sansa. "Now... I want you to tell me the truth about this royal boy, this Joffrey."
Sansa's hand froze on her lemon cake and she looked back up at the lady in front of her. Olenna was staring at her intently as the energy between the women grew tense. They wanted information from her, that is why they were being so kind. Was this just a trap? If she told them the truth, they might cancel the wedding and perhaps Joffrey would reinstate their own betrothal. Or they would tell the Lannisters what she had said and then she would face Cersei's ire. Her eyes widened in fear as she thought of the consequences she could face. "I..."
"Yes. You. Who else would know better? We've heard some troubling tales. Is there any truth to them? Has this boy mistreated you." Memories of Sir Meryn's blade on the back of her thighs made her mouth go dry. But Olenna just cocked her head to the side in impatience. "Has he carved out your tongue?"
"Jof- King Joffrey is very fair and is as brave as a lion..." Sansa tried weakly.
"Yes, all Lannisters are lions. And when a Tyrell farts, it smells like a rose. But how kind is he? How clever? Has he a good heart and a gentle hand. Will he love and protect Margaery, cherishing her? Tell us the truth. No harm will come to you." How on earth could the Tyrell's promise her that? They couldn't protect her.
"I'm to be his wife." Margaery's gentle tone interrupted her grandmother as she took Sansa's hand in hers. "I only want to know what that means."
Sansa looked at Margaery's wide, sincere brown eyes and felt a stab of pity. She had walked into her betrothal blindly and had been beaten down by it. Her dreams and hopes of a happy marriage with a kind, handsome king had been ruined. If she had known beforehand...if she had been given a chance to protect herself...
Her fingers tightened around Margaery's hand, and she felt tears well in her eyes. "He's...he's a monster" she spoke earnestly and Margaery held her gaze. "He murdered my father. I begged him for my father's life and he promised he would be merciful, but he cut my his head off, and he said that was mercy. He took me up on the walls and made me look at it. When I begged him to stop he had his guards beat me."
"And a few weeks ago? There was some trouble we heard of?" Olenna had listened to Sansa thoughtfully, shooting a cryptic look towards her granddaughter.
"If it wasn't for Lord Tyrion, I don't know if I'd be here today..." Sansa whispered honestly.
"Ah...a pity." Olenna pondered.
Suddenly her words and her own predicament caught up to her. If Cersei found out about what she had said, even Tyrion wouldn't be able to save her.
"Please! You can't cancel the wedding!" she begged wildly.
"Have no fear of that, my dear. The Lord Oaf of Highgarden is determined that Margaery should be queen." Margaery looked slightly disconcerted, but had recovered easily. "Even so, we thank you for the truth, Sansa. It helps to know what we're getting into bed with." Sansa looked intently at the Lady Olenna and recognized the shrewdness.
"Yes, My lady. I wish I had been similarly aware."
Olenna grinned again and waved over a servant, taking some cheese from the platter and holding some out to her. "I would like to have you here again, Lady Sansa. I believe we could have a lot to talk about."
Sansa accepted the cheese and returned the smile shakily. What on earth had she gotten herself into...