Not Quite a Queen
Sansa bit down a smile as the Dornish prince bowed over her hand, pressing a courteous kiss to her fingers. She had seen the scowls on both the queen and queen mother's faces as the prince had sought her out before them, but she knew it would be unseemly to appear to be gloating. So she kept her face neutral as she welcomed the prince to Kings Landing, courteously asking if he was able to sail in without issue.
Inwardly she was thrilled to see Margaery's face turn sour as if she had eaten a lemon, and it was always pleasant to see Cersei riled. But her husband would not approve of her glee. She almost rolled her eyes at the thought of his lecture.
Never let them know what you're thinking. Never show any weakness.
How many times had Tywin repeated that message since he had married her. When he had first schemed to take her claim to Winterfell for himself, she had hated him with her whole being. She had considered throwing herself from the highest tower rather than wed the man who had orchestrated the murder of her family. But like always, her will to survive outlasted all other romantic ideas of escaping it all and she met the old lion in the sept and accepted the cloak of red and gold with grace. At the very least, she knew Joffrey would never be allowed to touch her again. She had even accepted him that night, though she had bit her lip hard enough to draw blood and taken her mind away.
He had not touched her again after their wedding night for a few years. Instead he had demanded she sit in with him as he answered letters and ruled the kingdom. He continuously peppered her with questions, scoffing at her when she gave foolish answers and giving no outward sign when she had said the right thing. She had learned that he was constantly testing her, constantly teaching her something and she had thrown herself in learning from the best there was. It was a hard apprenticeship, but she had to admit that she had become a strong player on her own.
She still hated him for what he had done to her family, she always would. But she respected him. She knew he would not care for her in the way a husband should. But he respected her. It worked.
And now even this Dornish prince knew the truth. In a court with two rivaling, bickering queens, it was the Hand's wife who held the true power.