Even after her face had been washed and the king's blood cleaned from her eye socket, Margaery's morning was a blurred and bloody vision. She lay in the heated bath as her face and hair were both scrubbed with brushes and lye soap, drawing out the blood both wet and dry, and slowly the events of the morning came together in her scrambled mind. She thought she had woken staring at Joffrey, but now she remembered rolling over, or was that from after the bedding?
"My queen, we're finished," Alla said loudly, as if she was repeating herself. Maybe she is, I can't focus on the water in which I lie, let alone the voices of others. She didn't try to speak, but only nodded and let Alla and Megga gently help her out of the bath, the water swirling red. An open throat, wet red on the sheets.
They helped dress her as well. A cotton dress of black and gold, Baratheon colours, her new house. Is it, was she? Had Joffrey even… yes, through the haze of last night's wine she remembered him thrusting enthusiastically as he finished in her. Had they even gone so far as to restrain each other? Had that been them or the assassin? No, it wasn't her, and she knew Joffrey enough that if either of them had done it it would have been her with the silk around her wrists, not her husband. Why was she alive? How had she not woken up when someone bound the king? Had she really drunk that much?
She reached up to touch her cheek, the skin was raw from the scrubbing and she could almost feel the blood that had been there. She wanted to speak, but every time she tried, she thought of her husband, her dead husband, her second dead husband. Queen for a day. How long until that was her name? Megga said she would go and get some food, but when she opened the door, Ser Balon barred the way, and said that food would be sent for and commanded Margaery's cousin to return to her queen. Why was she still alive?
Food arrived, brought by a servant and accompanied by the Hand of the King. Lord Sebaston was in his usual formal black, the chain of hands around his shoulders. "My lady," he bowed his head.
"It is custom to address the wife of the king as 'your grace.'" Megga said, placing a hand protectively on Margaery's own.
"Yes, your grace, even queen dowagers are permitted that title, my apologies. May I sit?"
Margaery nodded and gestured to the seat opposite her. "Your grace, with the king dead, I must ask you some questions of last night."
He asked questions both expected and uncomfortable. Did she notice anything amiss during or after the bedding ceremony? Was she disturbed during the night? How many times did she couple with Joffrey, did he finish inside her every time.
"These questions are improper," Megga said.
"When it comes to the future of the realm, nothing is improper, my lady, and so I must ask again, did King Joffrey ejaculate inside you every time you consumated your marriage."
"Yes," Margaery replied.
Sebaston nodded and sat back in his chair. "What happens now?" Alla asked.
"You three need to make ready. Tommen will be crowned King in his brother's place this afternoon."
"King! But what if the queen is pregnant?" Megga asked.
"I hope you will forgive me, your grace, but I pray that you are not."
Megga and Alla, gods bless them, tried to make the arguments in Margaery's favour, for her own mouth was still struggling to move at her command. But the Hand of the King's decision was made, and no arguments that they could put forward would prevent him from having Tommen crowned that very day. And Margaery knew there was nothing that could be done short of trying to wage a battle in the Red Keep itself. "What of the alliance?" She finally asked.
"I pray that the Tyrells will continue to show their allegiance to the royal family and work with the Lannisters to ensure that King Tommen's reign is long and fruitful."
"The alliance was secured with my marriage to the king," she said, some of her voice coming back to her. But when she said the word king she saw Joff's bloody, terrified face again.
"Your grace, I understand that this is a difficult position for you. After the coronation, I invite you, your father and brother to the tower of the Hand and we shall discuss the details, but for now, you must swear your allegiance to the king. If you will not, then Ser Balon will not let you leave this room. I will not allow anything to derail this day further."
The coronation took place not long after. She had wondered what dress to wear, the colours of Tyrell or Baratheon. Despite her marriage to Renly, she had gone to the wedding as a Tyrell, the claim of her virginity intact. But no such claim could be made here, she had been wedded and bedded before witnesses from across the realm. So she dressed in the black and gold of House Baratheon and slipped her crown onto her head. If only for a day she was a queen, and if her marriage to Joffrey rendered her unable to wed Tommen, then she would wear this crown until it was forced from her head.
The throne room was filled with lords and nobles. The tables from last night had been piled against the walls as there had not been time to remove them and the smell of the seventy-seven courses still hung in the air. There had been no plan to hold court today, and she suspected the cleaning was a secondary concern. Standing in the shadow of the Iron Throne was Tommen, small and plum and lonely, his golden boots were weighed down with heavy spurs as long as his shins and he held a gilded longsword in both hands. His arms strained to hold a gilded sword upright as he looked out over the crowd. Behind him stood his Kingsguard in white enamled plate, led by Ser Jaime, but her brother was right behind him. At Tommen's left shoulder stood his mother in mourning Black her face still raw and hard, her eyes red. At his right stood the Hand of the King and below them, the King's Council.
Septon Talman looked even thinner and weaker than he had the day before when he had performed the wedding. His voice shook almost as much as his hands as he led them in prayers and said the holy words as he laid the crown atop Tommen's head. It had been resized, but still came to rest precariously on his eyebrows.
First the council payed homage, kneeling before Tommen and pledging their allegiance. After every oath, Tommen held out one hand with a ring that was far too large and the lord or knight kissed it. First the council, then his family, then Prince Oberyn, representing Prince Doran, then the lords, landed knights and courtiers. Margaery was among them. She knelt before Tommen, pledged her allegiance to him and his own, and kissed his ring. Kneeling before him she saw his knees shaking and his grip tightening and loosening on the sword in his other hand. He is a boy, and he's terrified. His brother's killer is still free.
As she walked back down the hall, she glanced to the sides. The court was unsettled, they huddled together protectively. What was the story they had been told? Had the court been told the truth, that an assassin had slit Joffrey's throat in the night, or had they simply been told he had died. Everyone looked at her, some with sympathy, others with suspicion.
After the swearing of oaths, Garlan took her by the arm and led her outside alongside Leonette and Mace. Alone in one of the Red Keep's gardens, Margaery broke down in tears at last. They stayed together. None of them spoke to her of politics, only offering their sympathies. When her father tried to discuss it, Leonette sharply reminded him that now was not the time.
She was not allowed to have some peace to calm down and assess her situation however, as a wiry man in a black gambeson with a long dagger at his waist came to summon them to the Tower of the Hand.
In the Hand's private audience chamber, Loren and Kevan Lannister were waiting by a small round window, tinted gold, behind his desk, the Hand sat rubbing his brow. His eyes were closed but they snapped open when the wiry man announced them. "That will be all Androw," he said, dismissing the man with a wave.
"Yes brother," Androw bowed and left, closing the door behind him. "Please, take a seat, all of you." The Tyrell and Lannister sat on opposite sides of the table, now divided again, with the Hand at the head of it. "I trust I don't need to explain why I have summoned you."
"If you mean to discuss our alliance, then should we not wait for her grace the queen-mother?" Garlan asked.
"The queen-regent," Sebaston replied pointedly, "is mourning her son. She named me the Hand of the King and I will fulfil the duties of that office." Margaery wondered if he would still be Hand of the King by the end of the evening if he was acting without the authority of Cersei. He may be the Hand, but Hands could be replaced.
"I hope you have no cause to doubt our loyalty, my lord Hand." Her father spoke smartly. Since his return from Stark imprisonment, he had lost two stone in weight and much more of his swagger. But he was still a man who sought to make his granddaughter queen, as he had assured her in whispers on the way to the tower.
"None at all, my lord. But the King's realm is bleeding, it was saved from Stannis Baratheon by the betrothal of your daughter to Joffrey." He bowed his head to Margaery. "Stannis may be gone, thanks to the Lord Marshall, but much of his army remains under the command of his daughter. They will be emboldened when they hear of King Joffrey's death, can we rely on your support to continue the war and secure King Tommen's reign? The lords of Casterly Rock and Highgarden together can bind together our kingdom of the south, even without Storm's End as I had hoped."
"Storm's End?" Loren asked.
Sebaston nodded and slid a document down the table. Margaery took it and she frowned. "This grants Storm's End to Tommen. Is the castle not already his?"
"Not yesterday. I had hoped that after the final defeat of Shireen Baratheon's forces, Tommen might be installed in Storm's End to secure the Stormlands for Joffrey. With his mother from the Rock, his wife from Highgarden and with a brother in Storm's End, Joffrey's rule would be secure for the rest of it's days." He shook his head. "All ashes now." Margaery passed the paper back and Sebaston held it over a fire, letting the page light and the fire burn away his hopes of yesterday. "Now Tommen is King."
"His mother is still of the Rock," Kevan pointed out.
"And he will still be wedded to Highgarden," Mace added. He speaks as if that is for certain. She did not doubt her father's vision, only his ability to make it real.
"Perhaps, if circumstance favours us, and it is what Margaery wishes."
What I wish? "She is my daughter, she will wed the king for the good of the realm."
She as glad lord Tyrion wasn't here. Like as not he would have scoffed at her father's feigned humility.
"Lord Mace, perhaps you should take in the colours your daughter wears to this meeting," Sebaston reminded Mace. Margaery glanced down at the black and gold. "Her grace is now a widow, and under the widows' laws of Jahaerys the Conciliator, widows may not be compelled to wed against their wishes."
"I thank you for your consideration, my lord Hand, but I assure you, for the good of the realm I will wed King Tommen. Many years my junior he may be, but the difference between us is not so much that I will lack for fertility."
Careless, she winced inside. Now is not the time to bring any doubt about your suitability to wed Tommen. The nerves were getting to her, and she was offset by Sebaston's intentions here. These kinds of discussions were normally done over days and weeks, set out before the court in official declarations and prepared in advance. She knew Loren had delivered the request for Septon Talman to come and perform the coronation, and the looks he and his uncle were giving each other were as uncertain as she felt. Was the Hand trying to force them to come to a decision now, away from the council and court, more crucially, before either the Lannisters of Tyrells could gather themselves to plot how much they could wring from the sodden cloth of Joffrey's death.
"Then there is only the matter of the law to contend with," Sebaston said. Not the laws of men, that the regency council could change, it was the laws of gods that stood between them now by naming any potential marriage between her and Tommen as incestuous as the carnal relations between the Queen Regent and the Kingslayer.
"How long have the kings held the Great Sept in sway, surely the High Septon can be made to grant permission for such a marriage?" Lord Mace asked. With the amount of gold the Lannisters and Tyrells were spending to court the candidates for High Septon, Margaery didn't believe it would be a concern. I would have been certain if I had been asked yesterday. Before the blood.
"We can."
"You sound unconvinced, lord Loren."
The Lord Marshall's expression was dark. "There are enough rumours of incest around this family already aready-"
There was a hammering on the door and Androw entered the room again. "Urgent news brother." He said as he circled the table and pressed a letter into the Hand's hand. Sebaston broke the wax and read.
"Septon Talman is dead."
"Dead?" Ser Kevan asked
Sebaston nodded, passing down for the Master of Laws to read. "It seems he passed on the carriage ride back to the Great Sept. When the opened the carriage back at the keep they found him dead in his seat."
"Another murder?" Margaery asked. One High Septon had already been killed, so had a king, was someone working their way through the court. Was she next?
"There's no sign of that. But I will go the the Great Sept when we're done here so we know for certain." And with those words the death of the acting High Septon was consigned to the past and they returned to the matter of Margaery's womb. They spoke around her discussing the possibility of her being pregnant, how likely it was and reminding themselves that it would take nine months to know if it was a boy or a girl. Without consulting her beyond formal courtesies, they agreed that it would be best for the realm if she were not pregnant, and moved on to what would be best to do if she were.
"If queen Margaery births a girl I see no problem," Kevan said. "The precedent of King Aegon the third of his name is clear, the rights of a son born of King Tommen will come before a daughter."
"And if I birth a son?" Margaery moment froze for all answer that were honest were horror. When ser Garlan proposed a break to breathe and consider their answers the Hand made it clear, no one was to leave until the matter was settled.
Finally, lord Loren spoke. "If Queen Margaery were to leave the city, give birth safely away from prying eyes, then we could control who knows what." He coughed uncomfortably. "Then, if a son is born, we could take it away. Announce a stillbirth."
"Take it away?" Margaery whispered.
"To Highgarden, or Casterly Rock, or anywhere where the child could be raised not knowing its parentage." How easily they speak of taking my son away. Margaery wanted to scream, but bit her tongue.
"My grandson will be raised in Highgarden," Mace Tyrell declared confidently. "We will raise him well there."
"You think he wouldn't be raised well in the Rock?"
"The king and Margaery will no doubt be making many visits to Casterly Rock and Highgarden," the Hand reminded them. "It would be better for the Queen were this matter ended, with no further interaction." He dare, he dare decide what would be best for her when it came to her own child!
"So where do you propose, my lord Hand?" She said instead.
"I have no children, no wife and no one who knows me would believe if I came back to Fair Isle claiming a child as my own. But my sister has given birth to a dozen children, another one would be missed, and we have the resources to comfortably raise him."
"You would take the boy, my lord?"
"It would have to be one of us, we cannot expose this to more than those in this room. And to speak plainly both the Houses of Lannister and Tyrell have the resources to use this child as a political tool. I do not."
"You would keep me from my own child?"
"It is the only way to secure the reign of Tommen, at least until he has secured his own reign." He said. Margaery rested a hand on her stomach. He would keep her updated if she wished it, letters every month with updates on the child's welfare. He assured her that his sister would care for the boy well. But the thought of it still felt foul.
But more foul was her father and Garlan's reactions. "For the realm." They said, together with Loren and Kevan. The realm was what mattered. The realm was why they agreed to keep this matter from Cersei until they knew for certain whether Margaery was pregnant. That at least Margaery understood, Cersei's look of horror when she had burst into the King's rooms. She hadn't even seen Margaery, just clutching at her dead son.
She knew it in her heart and tasted it like bile in her throat. Not when I am queen. When Tommen is of age and I am queen at his side, I will decide what is good for the realm.