Everyone whispered now, whether it was behind her back or to her face she doubted they even cared to hide it. The once-respected highborn lady was just a pariah now, the daughter of a traitor.

Sansa still wondered why her father did what he did, why he tried to attack her precious Joffrey. She carefully wandered through the halls of the Red Keep towards the throne room as she pondered on how to get back into the Queen's good graces. She wrote a letter to her brother, and she knew the Queen must have been pleased with her sign of loyalty. But now news spread of her brother riding a Northern army down to save her, but she didn't need saving. Robb just didn't understand, and his mistakes were ruining her chances of staying engaged to her golden King.

She slowed her steps as she approached the side entrance to the great chamber where the King and his council were holding court and hurriedly smoothed down the pale blue silk dress she had specifically picked for today. She prayed her hair stayed in its elaborate Southern twist as she stepped into the large crowd of royals standing before the Iron Throne and tuned into the proclamation the Grand Maester was reading out.

"His loyal servant Janos Slynt, commander of the City Watch, be at once raised to the rank of Lord and granted the ancient seat of Harrenhal and that his sons and grandsons shall hold this order after him until the end of time," Sansa eyed the commander as he bowed to the King, but when she attempted to quietly move through the crowd she embarrassingly found the other members of the court swiftly rushing out of her way, as if touching her would instantly name them a traitor as well.

A beacon of hope came however when she reached the front of the gentry and the Queen offered her a small smile. She beamed back at the radiant blonde woman and lightly bowed towards her and the King.

Her smile melted from her face with the Maester's next words, "In the place of the traitor Eddard Stark," She still was surprised the small council would believe her father a traitor, surely he must have been tricked by another. Her father was a Stark and the Starks were too honorable to do the wrong thing, much less high treason. "It is the wish of His Grace that Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West, be appointed Hand of the King. Lastly, in these times of treason and turmoil, it is the view of the council that the life and safety of King Joffrey be of paramount importance."

The wizened man turned his head towards the Queen's direction and she raised from her seat with a grace Sansa could only wish for, "Ser Barristan Selmy."

The knight in question moved from his place in the line of Kingsguard and moved to stand in front of the royal family, "Your Grace," He bowed. "I am yours to command."

"Rise Ser Barristan," The Lannister woman replied. "You may remove your helm." The old knight nodded and removed the helmet from his face. "You have served the Realm long and faithfully every man and woman in the Seven Kingdoms owes you thanks, but it is time to put aside your armor and your sword. It is time to rest and look back with pride on your many years of service." A murmur cut through the crowd as the proud smile fell from the man's face at his Queen's words.

"Your Grace, the Kingsguard is a sworn brotherhood. Our vows are taken for life. Only death relieves us of our sacred trust."

Cersei smirked, "Whose death, Ser Barristan? Yours or your Kings?"

"You let my father die," The boy King spat out as he glared daggers at the famed knight. "You're too old to protect anybody."

"Your Grace-"

"The council has determined that Ser Jaime Lannister will take your place as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard."

Ser Barristan scoffed at her proclamation, "The man who profaned his blade with the blood of the King he had sworn to defend."

"Careful Ser," Cersei cut the man's remaining words off.

Varys stepped forward from his spot behind the King, "We have nothing but gratitude for your long service good Ser. You shall be given a stout keep beside the seas with servants to look after your every need."

"A hall to die in and men to bury me," He rebutted. The crowd once again broke into noise when the man began to unlatch his cape and armor. "I am a knight. I shall die a knight."

"A naked knight apparently," Lord Baelish jested. The other members of the gentry broke into laughter, but Sansa watched on with silence and confusion.

Ser Barristan glared at the man along with the other small council members before he quickly unsheathed his sword. The other members of the Kingsguard were quick to draw their own in retaliation. "Even now I could cut through the five of you like carving a cake. Here boy," He threw the blade to the ground. "Melt it down and add it to the others." With his angered words he swept from the hall and left the court behind him. Sansa pitied the man and believed he should have not been disrespected as such, but her stress and worries quickly returned when the court reader spoke up.

"If any man in this hall has other matters to set before His Grace let him speak now, or go forth and hold his silence."

The Stark girl tentatively made eye contact with the King, "Your Grace."

Joffrey smiled and waved his hand towards his betrothed, "Come forward my Lady."

"The Lady Sansa of House Stark."

She slowly walked to the center of the room and stopped before her King upon his throne, "Do you have some business for the King and his council, Sansa?" The Queen pondered.

"I do," She agreed and dropped to her knees in front of the royal family. "As it pleases Your Grace I ask mercy for my father, Lord Eddard Stark who was Hand of the King."

"Treason," Grand Maester Pycelle cried out. "Is a noxious weed that should be torn out root-"

"Let her speak," The blonde King called out. "I want to hear what she says."

Sansa smiled, "Thank you, Your Grace."

"Do you deny your father's crime?" The Master of Coin asked.

The Northern Lady shook her head, "No, my Lords. I know he must be punished, all I ask is mercy. I know my Lord Father must regret what he did. He was King Robert's friend and he loved him, you all know he loved him. He never wanted to be Hand until the King asked him. They must have lied to him: Lord Renly or Lord Stannis or somebody. They must have lied."

Joffrey raised his brow, "He said I wasn't the King. Why did he say that?"

"He was badly hurt," She quickly explained. "Maester Pycelle was giving him milk of the poppy. He wasn't himself, otherwise, he never would have said it."

"A child's faith," The Master of Whispers remarked. "Such sweet innocence. And yet they say wisdom oft comes from the mouths of babes."

"Treason is treason," The Grand Maester argued.

Joffrey nodded his head at both men's words, "Anything else?"

"If you still have any affection in your heart for me, please do me this kindness, Your Grace." Joffrey leaned back in the Iron Throne as he mulled over the naive girl's wish.

"Your sweet words have moved me," Sansa beamed at her betrothed's words. "But your father has to confess. He has to confess and say that I'm the King. Or there will be no mercy for him."

The kneeling girl took a deep breath, "He will." With her words of confirmation, the court was adjourned and the mass of nobles quickly filed from the hall. Sansa waited on her knees until Joffrey and the Queen Mother had left the hall before she began to stand once more. She breathed a sigh of relief as hope reentered her heart, her father would be given a chance to right his wrongs and everything could be fixed.

The red-headed girl made her way from the grand hall with more life in her eyes than when she entered and quickly began to make her way back to her chambers. As she passed other members of the court she could hear the commander of the City Watch informing his men to prepare to escort her father to the Sept of Baelor later in the afternoon, and she hastened her steps to make herself more presentable for the event. If her father was presented in front of the Sept the whole city would bear witness to the mercy and sweetness of her King and she knew she had to make a positive impression as the next Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

She kept her head down as she turned another corner coming closer to her door when she caught the exotic robes of Lord Varys up ahead. Against her better judgment, she turned and looked for witnesses, and when she saw none she quietly followed the so-called "Spider." Maybe he knew what the King would choose to do to her father, keep him in prison? Send him to The Wall to serve with her Uncle Benjen? She paused at a corner when the bald man stopped at a wooden door in the hall ahead of her still form. She watched him knock on the door and was surprised to see Ser Barristan fling the door open from the inside of the room with his armor fully removed and a traveling pack strapped to his back. The two shared near-silent words, the foreign man passed a small scroll of parchment to the knight, then he turned and continued on his previous route. Sansa held her breath as the now ex-Kingsguard unrolled the scroll and quirked his brows at the unknown words upon the page before he scanned his eyes around the hall for unwanted looks. The Stark girl was quick enough to swing back around the stone corner and let out her breath when she heard the wooden door swing shut.

She held her hand to her chest to calm her racing heart and quickly rushed back to her room unless she stayed and get caught for sneaking and eavesdropping. Once her own door had closed behind her she relaxed and decided to push the odd moment from her mind, nothing was even odd bout it now that she thought of it. Varys must have been giving him his payment for service or a letter of gratitude from the King.

Whatever it was it was not the concern of a true Lady, Gods sneaking around was something her sister Arya would pride herself on doing. And as much as she missed her sister at the moment she would not stoop to her levels of childishness.

Sansa straightened herself, fixing her hair that had come loose from her running and adding some blush to her pale cheeks before a knock sounded upon her door. She opened it and was greeted by a member of the Kingsguard who silently led her through the halls to the small procession of people waiting at the gates of the Red Keep. She smiled at King Joffrey and his beautiful mother when she reached the group and gracefully followed as they moved through the streets of the city, giving small waves to the children she passed as her mother had taught her once. When the group reached the steps of the Sept Sansa and the Queen were directed to stand on the right of the King and Sansa tensed lightly when Lord Baelish chose to stand close to her side. She glanced towards the man and gave a polite bow which he returned in kind. As she stood still next to the Lannister woman she watched as the crowd within the square increased tenfold and stood straighter when she noticed a form being moved through the crowd by two guards. She gave a small smile and a nod when her blue eyes met the sad grey eyes of her father.

The Northern Lord frowned at the sight of his oldest daughter standing surrounded by those who wish his family harm but relaxed slightly when he failed to catch the eye of his other daughter, his nephew, or the boy's Dornish wife. He prayed to the Old Gods that they had safely made it back to Robb and his dear Catelyn. He grunted as he was moved up the steps of the Sept and forced to stand in front of the false King and faced towards the crowd.

He tensed at all of the people jeering at him, but he remembered the words of advice Varys had given him less than an hour ago, what was at stake if he did not comply with the Queen's son.

"I am Eddard Stark," The crowd silenced at his voice. "Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King." He gulped and grimaced at the dryness in his throat, and spared another glance towards his sweet daughter who simply smiled and nodded at him once more. "I come before you to confess my treason in the sight of Gods and men. I betrayed the faith of my King and the trust of my friend Robert. I swore to protect and defend his children, but before his blood was cold I plotted to murder his son and seize the throne for myself." He paused as the crowd slightly raised its volume and waited for it to lower once more. The Northern man flinched as a rock was thrown into his face and he stumbled until a hand pushed him back upright.

"Let the High Septon and Baelor the Blessed bear witness to what I say. Joffrey Baratheon," He paused. "Is the one true heir to the Iron Throne by the grace of all the Gods Lords of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm." The crowd cheered at the man's declaration and Joffrey himself smiled at the weary Lord's words.

Grand Maester Pycelle stepped forward and motioned for the crowd to silence itself, "As we sin so do we suffer. This man has confessed his crimes in sight of Gods and men. The Gods are just, but beloved Baelor taught us they can also be merciful." The older man turned to his King. "What is to be done with this traitor, Your Grace?"

The crowd once more rose in volume and the blonde King smiled at the cheering faces and raised his hand toward the common folk. "My mother wishes me to let Lord Eddard join the Night's Watch, stripped of title and powers he would serve the Realm in permanent exile. And my Lady Sansa has begged mercy for her father." He smiled at the girl before he bit his lip in thought. "But they have the soft hearts of women, so long as I am your King treason shall never go unpunished."

Sansa paled at each word that escaped his mouth until she cried out when he yelled, "Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!"

Ned quickly glanced back at the boy when the words left his mouth and watched as both Cersei and Sansa attempted to change the King's mind, but he was undeterred. The crowd's cheering vanished from his ears and all he could catch was the pleading of his little girl. He struggled as guards forced him to his knees and shoved his head towards the ground, cringing at the familiar sound of his ancestral sword, Ice, being pulled from its sheath.

He spared one more look to his daughter before turning his eyes to the ground, letting them fall shut as he blocked all sounds from his mind. He thought of his wife and each of his children before his thoughts turned to Jon and his dear sister Lyanna. He muttered out an apology and steeled his breath.

Like he told Lord Varys, he learned to die a long time ago.