Chapter 4
The next day brought a raven with the news that the Dornishmen had taken The Reach. Sansa sighed, wondering what would become of Wyllis Tyrell, the lame oldest brother of Queen Margeary. Her mother and Ser Loras could have been at HighGarden when it was taken, as well. And the Queen's grandmother, Lady Olenna. Although she knew now that it was Lady Olenna who actually poisoned Jeoffery – if what Lord Petyr said was true – she was still concerned for the old woman's safety. And she couldn't believe that Lady Olenna actually meant her any harm. If she were working with Lord Petyr then she would have known that Sansa would be taken away before anything could happen to her.
Lord Connington sent ravens telling all of the armies to take up their prearranged positions just inside The Crownlands. "They'll be cut off on every side," Ser Lothor said. "They'll try to lock the city, thinking to withstand a siege. But it's over. The small folk and even many of the Lords are all rushing to the kings banner, saying they want to end this war and restore the rightful king to the throne. It's over."
After the attack on Sansa's life, the King was taking no chances with her safety. He didn't feel comfortable leaving her at Storm's End, and neither did Lord Connington. They'd already had her send a letter to her generals, commending them on their swift and decisive victories. Both men had replied that they were happy to serve House Stark, and that they awaited her orders. Her orders, not the Kings.
"The North is fighting for its freedom," Lord Connington told the King grimly. "They've shown their allegiance, and it's not to you, it to her. She's their Queen."
"And if she's also my Queen?" he asked, his hands steepled together, his eyes intent. He knew well how his Hand felt about him marrying.
"I think that might be the best solution to keeping the Seven Kingdoms intact," Lord Connington surprised him by saying. "She's strong and smart and beautiful besides. You could do worse in a queen, but I don't think you'll do much better. Sansa Stark was bred to be a queen, whether she knows it or not."
Since Sharil's attack, the entire household was suspect, and no one was comfortable. Sansa still hadn't been able to make sense of in her mind. Why would Sharil do it? Was the bounty on her head so large? Her knights assured her it was. Sharil only babbled nonsense about the true king – meaning Stannis Baratheon – and how she would die before she'd serve anyone else. Several of the household staff told them they believed that Sharil had thought to take the money from the bounty to Stannis, to support his efforts. Although how she'd thought to travel all the way to King's Landing, obtain the bounty and then travel to find Lord Stannis' army, who'd last been seen heading far north – no one knew.
But Sansa didn't want to go with the army to King's Landing. She also didn't want to stay at Storm's End. "Couldn't we go back to Griffin's Roost?" she asked.
Ser Lothor shook his head. Like the King, he knew that the North was only present because she was. "Your troops need to see your face. They hold out the Targareyn banner, but they rally behind the Direwolf."
Sansa sighed and prepared to go. She'd learned in her military strategy sessions that maintaining the morale of her men was a large part of leading. If her troops felt that she had abandoned them, or that she was more concerned with herself that with them, they would falter and fail. So she put on her armor, belted on her sword, and rode out with the rest of the army.
They were closer to King's Landing than the other armies, and so they arrived first. It would be days, if not weeks, before they all arrived. But soon enough the others were in place. And still they waited.
"I know waiting is an important battle strategy, especially during a siege," she told Alinor one morning. "But to be this close and not do anything…..it's frustrating."
"Well something must be about to happen soon, because the King has been in a very good mood," Alinor commented. Sansa nodded. Every time she'd tried to raise the subject with him, he just smiled and said they were waiting. But for what?
A few days later, she had her answer. "My lady," Alinor said urgently. "Lady Sansa, wake up!"
"What is it?" Sansa asked, sitting up, rubbing her eyes. "An attack?"
"No, come look. Hurry!" Alinor bundled her into her robe and boots and rushed her out of their tent, then pointed east to where the sun had just risen into the sky. At first she didn't see anything, and then she wasn't sure of what she was seeing.
"Are those…." She blinked, and rubbed her eyes again. Three winged creatures. One black, one white, one green.
"Dragons," the king said with a grin, coming to stand beside her. He grabbed her hand tightly. "My Aunt Danerys Stormborn her come with her army, the Second Sons, and her dragons." He looked at her, his eyes shining with victory. "Today, we take Kings Landing. Today, we win." He kissed the back of her hand, then released it. "I must prepare. Dress for battle, Queen Sansa. I would have you ride into Kings Landing at my side." And then he was gone.
The city of King's Landing surrendered without a fight, opening the gates and cheering as King Aegon's army flooded into the streets. The Red Keep, however, remained closed and locked. Although Cercei commanded the Keep to fight most of the soldiers stepped aside and surrendered. The men swept through the Keep, finally finding Cercei and Tommen hiding behind a locked door and a hundred guards, including a giant in golden armor that it took thirty men to take down. The only injuries and losses the King's forces sustained were fighting him.
As the sun set over the western mountains, the banner men of House Stark and House Targareyn led the procession of Sansa and King Aegon into the city. People cheered loudly, calling out not only the King's name, but Sansa's as well. Sansa was overwhelmed by it all, but the King was unaffected, grinning as if it were his due, his father's crown shining brightly in the fading daylight.
Before they reached the throne room, the King pulled her aside, waving everyone away so that they could have a few moments alone, despite Lord Connington's scowl. He took her hand, lacing his fingers tightly through hers. "Have you considered my offer?" he asked quietly.
Sansa opened her mouth, then closed it again. "Your Majesty, I don't know if Lord Tyrion is dead –"
"I am assuming he's not," he replied. "He should have arrived with the Second Sons, so I assume he's in the throne room, waiting to be publically pardoned of his crimes in exchange for helping to restore me to my throne. We left him in Pentos with orders to convince my aunt to lend me her assistance."
She stared at him as the full meaning of his words registered. "You….left him?"
The King nodded. "When Lord Varys helped him escape from prison, he bundled him into a crate and sent him to Pentos. He knew we needed a strategist who was familiar with the current situation here, and there is none better than Tyrion."
"So you've always known he was alive," she said slowly. She felt like the floor had fallen out from beneath her feet. Tyrion was alive. And free.
"I've assumed he was," the King replied, his beautiful eyes searching her face. "Just as I'm assuming he's in there now. I had hoped that…" he faltered, then sighed, reaching out to stroke her hair, her cheek. He pulled her close, resting his lips against her forehead for a moment. "Fine, you don't have to make the decision now," he said lightly, tilting her chin up so that she met his eyes. "The war is over, so we have time. Now come along, Lady Stark," he stepping away, the usual cocky grin on his face. "The Seven Kingdoms await us."
The entire room sank to their feet as they entered. The King kept her hand tightly in his as they made their way to the foot of the dias, where he smiled before releasing her to mount the stairs and take his seat on the Iron Throne. The room erupted into cheers.
There were many people to honor and the King acknowledged them all, interspersing his thanks with humorous quips and japes, his grin flashing out regularly until the crowd relaxed, certain he wasn't the Mad King reincarnate, come to kill them all. Lord Connington, already named Hand of the King, stood silently beside him, occasionally whispering something. It was almost an hour later when the King asked that wine be brought so that he could soothe his throat, then had a defiant Cercei and a terrified Tommen brought before him. It wasn't until Aegon politely asked Tommen to come stand beside him that Cercei's expression changed. "No," she said as the guards led the boy up the stairs. "NO."
Tommen looked back to his mother, his expression frightened, but Aegon calmed him. "It's alright, Your Majesty," he said, unusually grave. "Your mother is afraid I'll harm you. Because this really has nothing to do with you and I, does it? It's all about our fathers and a battle that happened before you were born, when I was only a babe, a battle over a woman. Although those Stark women can be bewitching," he grinned, his eyes drifting momentarily to Sansa. "But it doesn't seem right to harm a child for something his parents did, don't you agree?" Tommen, wide eyed, nodded, as an attendant appeared beside the king with two cups of wine on a tray. "Ah, here we are," the king said with a cocky smile. "Have you ever had wine, Your Majesty?" Tommen nodded again as Cercei spoke in a voice that shook in anger, or fear.
"Tommen, don't drink it." Her chest was heaving, her eyes wide and angry. She struggled against the guards who held her firmly.
"Surely the boy deserves a sip of wine, my lady?" the King asked, raising a brow. "It's been a trying day for us all. And gods help us, this is only the beginning," he sighed. "There's still so much to do. Have you heard from your sister, Your Majesty?" he asked, passing a cup to the boy. "We'll have to arrange to have her brought home."
"Tommen, DON'T DRINK IT!" Cercei struggled violently but the guards held her firmly.
"I have your uncle, Ser Jaime, as one of my hostages," the King continued as if Cercei had never spoken. "Well, hostage is too strong a word. He didn't exactly surrender, but he didn't fight us either. In addition, he did provide some information about his sister that was very helpful."
"He's lying Tommen, don't listen to him!"
"I'm not lying, Your Majesty," the King said softly, sipping his wine. "Your uncle loves his sister, but he's realized that she's not a very good queen. Westeros needs a strong leader, and your mother simply doesn't know how to be one."
"You have to kill me," Tommen said softly, speaking for the first time. "If you don't, I'll do what you're doing now, me or Myrcella. So you have to kill us." His voice was shaking, but he looked King Aegon in the eye.
Aegon looked at the beautiful blonde child before him. It wasn't the boy's fault that his father had been Robert Baraetheon. This had nothing to do with him, he was just an innocent child. His stomach churned at the thought of what he was about to do. "Drink your wine, Your Majesty," he said softly.
Sansa's eyes filled with hot tears as Tommen nodded, and drank the entire cup. The King watched silently, his face a mask of sorrow.
"NOOOOOOOO!" It was a mother's heart wrenching, anguished cry.
Tommen smiled to Cercei as his little legs collapsed beneath him, the King catching him before he hit the ground, lying him gently down, grief obvious on his face. He remained there, kneeling over the small boy for several minutes, his fingers lightly against his throat, as Cercei screamed in rage and grief, threatening to kill him, to rip him apart with her bare hands, to kill them all. Finally he sighed, blinking rapidly, and folded Tommen's hands across his chest. Only Sansa was close enough to see that his hands trembled. When he rose, his face was a mask of icy calm. Rising, he nodded to the guards and they released Cercei but before she'd taken more than two steps, an arrow flew from the balcony above, piercing her through the heart. She collapsed less than foot from her son.
The King sat on the throne, his fingers steepled before him. "There's been enough bloodshed," he said, his voice carrying easily in the silent room. "I will have no more, if I can avoid it. But please do not think me weak, or foolish." His hard gaze swept the room. "What I said to King Tommen was true –this had nothing to do with he and I, and everything to do with our fathers and their battle over a woman. And so I poisoned the child, yes. It seemed kinder than a blade, most certainly kinder that the death some babe endured in my place. His mother received my arrow. As will anyone else who chooses to challenge me."
There wasn't much left to say after that. He publically thanked Sansa and the men of the North and the Vale, assuring her that she could keep her ancestral lands, be addressed as Lady of Winterfell, that the title would pass through her son, and she would remain the Warden of the North, and named her Warden of the East until her cousin came of age. He also told her that she could foster her cousin, Lord Robert Arryn at Winterfell, if she wanted, but she said she'd rather he be raised in the Vale, so that he would be familiar with their customs and ways. "Know that I am forever indebted to you," he said seriously, holding out his hand. She mounted the stairs to take it. "Let today be the new start of a friendship between House Targaryen and House Stark," he said. "You have my thanks, my lady." He kissed her hand.
Sansa was sure she blushed at the way he was looking at her. "You're most welcome, Your Majesty," she said.
"Speaking of friends," he said, pulling Sansa to his side, "Is Lord Lannister present?" A murmur ran through the crowd. What Lannister would still be present after witnessing the queen and her son's execution?
Lord Varys stepped forward. "No, Your Majesty," he said. "Lord Tyrion took a bit of a blow to the head. He is well," he hurried to assure them. "But a bit dizzy, so he is resting."
"Let it be known that Lord Tyrion Lannister is pardoned of any crimes he may have committed," the king said loudly. He paused. "We'll have to take into further consideration any that he actually did commit," he said wryly, and a chuckled ran through the room. "As payment for his services in securing my throne, Lord Lannister is hereby allowed to keep his ancestral lands and titles, and is now the Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West, and Advisor to the King."
"And of course, my Aunt, Queen Daenerys Stormborn," he gesture to the stunningly beautiful, slender woman with the hair like his, and she came easily up the stairs, her purple eyes sliding coolly to Sansa, whom the King still held at his side. "What can I offer you, Your Majesty, in return for your assistance?"
"You have nothing here that I want, Nephew," she said sweetly. "I am content with knowing a Targaryen is returned to the throne."
"Surely there is something?" he pressed.
Her smile was slow. "Perhaps," she said vaguely. "I will think on it."
The King dismissed them soon after but not before announcing with a wicked grin, that Lady Stark would be managing his household while he was in residence. She was immediately swarmed with people making requests, and had never been more grateful to see Ser Lothor and her guards. She spent the evening with the castle steward, making room assignment for those who would stay in the keep, politely sending some of the Lords to inns in the city, and making sure all of the current inhabitants who had been loyal to Cercei were accounted for. The list was long, and Lord Connington joined her. Most were completely willing to swear fealty to the King. But there were others who were still unaccounted for.
It was well after midnight when Lord Connington sent her to bed. "The guards will keep searching. There are only a few left, and they may have fled in the confusion. Get some sleep."
"And you, my lord," she said, smothering a yawn. "You need your rest as well." He nodded and she and her guards wandered the halls for a bit before finding her suite of room, where Alinor was waiting. Her suite was large and made up of multiple rooms. Alinor chatted happily about them but Sansa was too tired to care.
In the morning there were numerous requests from the King and Lord Connington, a veritable list of things for her to do. There were also numerous people who wanted to see her, some of them for purely social reasons – the King had made it plain that she was special to him, and tongues were already wagging that he would put aside her marriage to Tyrion and make her the queen. She heard whispers that Tyrion was about, as busy as she. But for three days, she didn't see him.
She did, however, go to see Queen Margeary and her cousins. The Queen hugged her tightly. "Are you alright?" she asked worriedly.
"I'm fine," Sansa assured her as they sat on the bed in her narrow cell, a disapproving septa hovering by the door. "How are you?"
Margeary smiled sadly. "I'm alright," she said. "Sansa, have you heard word of my family?"
"I know that your father is well," Sansa said. "I was told that neither your mother or brothers were harmed when Highgarden was taken, but I've heard nothing of Lady Olenna."
Margaery smiled sadly. "Tommen?" she whispered.
Sansa's eyes filled. "He was very brave," she said softly. "The King chose poison, he felt a blade would be cruel."
The Queen nodded. "Are you being treated well?" Sansa asked, her eyes drifting to the septa.
"Well, it isn't a vacation," Margaery replied shortly. "But I haven't been hurt, no. What does the King plan to do with me?"
"I don't know," Sansa answered honestly. "We haven't had a chance to speak of it. Tommen was only a child, but you are still his Queen. I know that your father is advocating for you, but I don't know how it's going. I hope to speak to the King this evening, I'll try to come back in a day or two. But for now, you're probably safest here." Margeary nodded miserably.
When she returned to the keep, she was delighted to meet with a few of the Lords of the North and the Vale. They all greeted her enthusiastically, and Ser Harry hugged her tightly, causing her to blush and most of the men to chuckle.
"So has the King given you any indication of what he'll do with the North?" Lord Umber asked. Sansa was happy to see him, he'd been a loyal follower of Robb and had been held captive at the Twins.
"I haven't had a chance to speak with him in days," Sansa said honestly. "I'm hoping I'll so do today."
"The boy's infatuated with you," Lord Grafton said. "And I know young Ser Harry doesn't like it, but if he's willing to put you on the throne…you could ask for the North's freedom."
Sansa had been hoping to avoid that subject, but she'd known it was too much to ask. "Perhaps you haven't heard, my lord," she said. "But Tyrion Lannister is alive and well, which means I am not free to marry."
"Bah," Lord Umber said dismissively. "The King can easily set that aside. You were forced to wed the Imp so that the Lannisters could have your claim to Winterfell."
"And he'd set it aside, if you want him to, if you tell him," young Lord Manderly said. "He said as much this morning."
"This morning, my lord?" Sansa asked inquisitively. "You've spoken to the King?"
"Greatjon, Flint, and I spoke to the King on behalf of the North this morning, my lady," Lord Manderly said gruffly. "My father sent a letter asking that he be named your protector, and that the King would send you home, to White Harbor so you can put this war behind you, and we can begin rebuilding Winterfell, and arrange you a proper marriage. He sent a note for you, as well." He dug into his cloak pocket and pulled out a tightly rolled paper. Sansa took it woodenly, thanking him automatically.
They stayed a little longer, but she didn't remember what they talked about. She did remember Lord Manderly asking when she'd be ready to leave, as he would wait and escort her back to White Harbor, but she didn't know what answer she gave him. Harry stayed behind, reaching for her hand. "I've lost any chance I had, haven't I," he asked sadly.
Sansa was saved from answering by Alinor. "Excuse me, my lady," she said as she entered. "The king is requesting your presence."
Harry just nodded and sighed, kissing her cheek and telling her that he was hoping to return home soon.
Sansa slid the letter from Lord Manderly into her pocket while Alinor hurriedly brushed her hair and secured her pins, then they went to meet the King. He was in one of the smaller salon's with Lord Connington, Mace Tyrell, and a few other men she didn't recognize – but not Tyrion. She and her guards waited by the door until he suddenly noticed her, then he abruptly told everyone to leave so that he could have a few moments alone with Lady Stark. Lord Connington was the last. "Only a few moments, Your Majesty, your uncle's men have requested a word with you before they leave." The King nodded irritably. Lord Connington smiled at her, bowing slightly as he closed the door quietly behind him.
The King waved her over to him as he sat on a small sofa near the fire. He grinned as she sat down. "It's good to see you again," he said jokingly. "I've missed you."
Sansa chuckled. "I know, it's been days since I've seen you. But I'd been hoping I could talk to you actually. Have you decided what you're going to do with Margeary?" she asked softly. "Or Myrcella?"
He grunted softly, leaning back into the cushions with a sigh. "Tyrion has somehow convinced the High Sparrow to release the women," he said. "Her ladies will return to their homes. But I have a different plan for Lady Margeary. As for the Princess, my uncle is requesting to keep her in Dorne, they've all become very fond of her. And everyone, especially Tyrion and Ser Jamie, is assuring me that these children are not the offspring of Robert Baretheon, although no one is certain exactly who their father is. I wish someone would have mentioned that before I killed that little boy," he muttered.
Sansa reached for his hand sympathetically and he clung to it tightly. She still saw the face of the man she'd killed in her dreams, she knew it couldn't have been easy for him to do, especially since Tommen was so young.
"But what of you, my lovely Lady Sansa," he asked lightly, eager to change the subject. "Have you changed your mind regarding your marriage?"
"Your Majesty I haven't even seen Lord Tyrion, although I know he is about," she said.
"I do not understand why you need to see him," he said musingly.
Sansa paused, not quite certain herself. But his gentleness and care had been a balm to her aching heart, even when she hadn't been able to acknowledge it. "He was so kind to me," she said finally. "I'd like very much to tell him thank you, and to tell him personally any plans I have. It seems the right thing to do. After everything, I owe him that much, at the least."
"But what are your plans?" the king asked softly. "Will you stay by my side and rule Westeros with me? I might be persuaded to give your beloved North their freedom if you do so. Not likely, but possibly. Or will you take the offer of Ser Harry, who believes that one day soon he will be the Lord of the Vale? Or will you run to Lord Manderly in White Harbor, and let him help you rebuild your home, and find you a 'proper and suitable' husband?"
Sansa sighed, staring at their joined hands. "I don't know," she said quietly.
"Would it be so horrible, being married to me? Being the queen?" he asked, almost angrily.
Sansa looked up in surprise. "No, oh no! Your Majesty, you mustn't think –"
"Aegon," he said angrily. "I've asked you to call me Aegon when we are alone."
"Aegon, please," she said beseechingly. "Didn't you ever, growing up, didn't you ever resent the fact that everyone just expected that one day you would do exactly what they wanted you to do? No one asked if you wanted to do it. They just told you that you would. You didn't have a say about it, you didn't have a choice. Didn't that bother you?"
His gaze softened a bit, and he nodded.
"Everyone is telling me what to do, and planning my future for me," she said in frustration. "But no one is asking me what I want. They all know what's best for me, so I should just be a good girl, be quiet and do as I'm told. And that's not the life I want. I want to be free to make my own choices, even if sometimes I don't know what the right choice is. But at least I'll be the one to make it."
"You'll lose that, if you're queen," he said in an uncharacteristic display of wisdom. "Ruling is all about duty, and serving the best interests of your kingdom. All seven of them," he said wryly. "No one is asking me what I want, either."
"I know," she said softly. "And it is that and only that, that makes me hesitate."
He nodded, understanding. "Has anyone mentioned to you what it is my darling Aunt Dany has requested of me?"
Sansa shook her head, glad for the change of subject. "No, what gift did she choose?"
"A child," Aegon said seriously.
Sansa stared at him a moment, not understanding. "What child?" she asked hesitantly. "Is there any child in particular?"
"Oh yes," he said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "She wants my child. She wants me to impregnate her."
Sansa's mouth dropped open in shock. "She wants her child to have a claim to this throne," she whispered, understanding. "But surely she realizes that a child you'd have with her would be a natural child, it wouldn't succeed you."
"Oh yes it will," he said bitterly. "She is delighted to help me win my throne, and I may enjoy it for as long as I live. And when I die, she'll have it back. I must name her child my firstborn and heir, male or female. I implied that you and I have already been intimate – my apologies – and that you could already be carrying a babe. She told me that I should have you drink the Moon Tea sooner rather than later, because if I wait too long it will be harder for you." He rose, prowling the room. "I will give her a child and it will be my heir, or she will have her dragons burn King's Landing to the ground."
Sansa sat for a moment, watching him pace. "She wouldn't do that," she said slowly. "She's spent the last few years freeing slaves and punishing their masters. She wouldn't kill thousands of innocent people simply because she can't have her way."
He stopped pacing and stared at her. "You sound like your husband," he said, a bitter edge to his voice. "Tyrion said the same thing."
Sansa dropped her eyes, unsure of what to say but secretly pleased that she had arrived at the same conclusion as Tyrion. "You could do worse than to heed his council, Your – Aegon," she said. "He knows her well, does he not? You said you left him behind to convince her to champion your cause, surely he understands her by now."
He made a sound that was almost a growl, staring out of the window into the snow.
"You could send a septa and septon, just like you had, to ensure that the child knows our ways. A Maester. Knights to help guard it, but also to teach it to handle weapons."
He turned to look at her. 'So you think I should do this?" he asked.
Sansa shook her head. "Aegon, I'm hardly one to advise you," she said. "I cannot make my own decisions."
They were each silent for long moments, lost in their own thoughts. "Well, allow me to advise you," he said, coming to sit beside her and take her hand in both of his. "Let me set aside the marriage," he urged. "No matter what you decide to do, you deserve better than a man who only married you for your lands and title."
Sansa had to laugh slightly. "Anyone who marries me will likely only be interested in my lands and title," she said wryly. "Tyrion is probably the only one who isn't. And you."
The King just stared at her. "Sansa, Tyrion only married you for your claim to Winterfell."
"Tyrion is Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West," she said. "He doesn't need my title."
"He is now, yes," the King said. "But not before."
Sansa's confusion showed on her face. "Of course he was," she said. "Ser Jaime is – was – Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and so forfeited his right to inherit. Cercei was the queen, so that left Tyrion."
"But his father wouldn't name him heir," the King said. "He intended to make Tommen his heir, then the girl when the older boy died. But not Tyrion. He'd told Tyrion so, Tyrion told me. And Mace Tyrell confirmed it. Tyrion's only hope for land and a title was through marriage. Through you."
Sansa stared at him, dumbfounded.
"Sansa, please don't feel obligated to him," the King said urgently. "I know he was kind to you, but please believe that it was to make you feel just as you do now, so that when this war was over and the Northern Lords all began to petition the crown to set aside your marriage, you would be devoted to him. This was his plan."
Sansa found her voice. "Well. Then I'm certain he won't mind should I decide to set aside the marriage." The thought was hard to comprehend. Tyrion never seemed like he only wanted Winterfell, he'd never even mentioned it. But he cared about her, she knew he did. Didn't he?
The King shook his head, a frown marring his beautiful features. "Tyrion and I have already had a conversation about it," he said grudgingly. "He accused me of stealing his wife. He said that I could have any woman in all of the Seven Kingdoms, and yet I'd chosen the one that was married to him. No, Sansa. He still wants your land and your title."
Or perhaps he wants me. "Warden of the North and the West? And the East, until Lord Robert comes of age," she said with a skeptical laugh. "That's ambitious, even for Tyrion."
"Sansa please," he said, ignoring her words. "Please don't turn away from someone who genuinely cares about you for a man who doesn't."
"I find it difficult to believe that Tyrion does not care for me, at least a little," she said. "But I promise, I will think on what you have said. I don't know that I'll be able to think of much else," she smiled sadly.
A knock at the door saved him from responding. Without waiting for an answer, it was opened. "Your Majesty," Lord Connington said, bowing slightly. "Your uncle's men are waiting."
The King didn't speak, just stared at his foster father in annoyance.
"The joys and burdens of being the King," Sansa said softly.
His eyes returned to her face, softening. "There would be more joy if my queen were beside me," he said softly. He kissed the palm of the hand he held, then grazed his lips over her knuckles before rising. "What am I talking to them about?" he asked as he stepped through the door.