THE KING'S PEACE

THE PRISONER

17 years ago

"I am going to put your arm back in place, my lady. This might hurt," said the old man holding her arm firmly. "Maybe I'd better give you something to bite on in case you feel the need to scream or..."

"No need," Edelgard said, soothing him. "Just do it, please." With more force than Edelgard would have expected from someone his age, the old man pushed her arm hard until the bone was back in place. It was painful, but she endured the pain stoically without letting her face show a single sign of pain.

"You have endured the pain very well, my lady. I have put the bone back in place, but I think with a fair amount of certainty that you have a fractured joint. Do not move your arm and hopefully the bone will heal on its own with time and rest. You are still young so you shouldn't worry too much. However I'm worried about those-"

"Don't. They are not going to heal, no matter what you treat them with. Leave them be," Edelgard reassured him, rising from the chair. "Thank you for your kindness, ehmm..."

"Cressen" replied the old man.

The pain was still intense, but she knew it would subside soon. The power of her crest would heal her bones and muscles faster than a normal person would. And, if not, she could always turn to Linhardt if the discomfort went any further.

"Ser Stannis told me to take you to his chambers when I was finished," Cressen informed her. "To speak with you. He is very interested in your... strange arrival."

I'm sure he is, Edelgard thought. If strangers had suddenly appeared in the middle of Garreg Mach, I would have been too. She still had a lot to find out about where they were, but every minute she had been there confirmed her suspicions that they were no longer in Fodlan. And the fact that there was no one in the castle capable of treating her with magic really surprised her.

"I will go and speak to him after I have seen my companions," Edelgard replied.

"Ser Stannis was very insistent that you go see him promptly. He will be most displeased if you do not..."

"I care not how displeased he may be. I will not speak to him until I know that my friends are safe and sound" Edelgard replied authoritatively. She headed for the door, ready to meet her companions in light of the old man's hesitation to give her clear answers. No sooner had she opened it, however, than she was surprised by a pair of crossed spears barring her way.

"Ser Stannis has given orders that you are to be brought before him as soon as you were recovered," said one of the soldiers. "Come with me." He grasped her arm tightly, and Edelgard had to restrain herself from letting out a groan of pain. Her dagger had been taken from her when she was taken to the maester, but both soldiers had daggers strapped to their belts. Neutralizing them would not be too difficult, Edelgard observed. They were relaxed and were not wielding their weapons decisively. Still, she didn't. She could take those two, but she wouldn't get very far tired and with an arm incapacitated. For the moment she would trust that this Stannis would keep his word. For the moment.

"Be careful of her arm," the maester said, approaching in a hurry, his concern clear. "Ser Stannis asked me to treat her, so you'd better not make him angry by treating our guest badly."

"I don't know why we don't just send them straight to the dungeons!" grumbled the guard. He had a bushy black moustache that was poorly shaved with a few gray hairs beginning to show, and his brown eyes gave off no kindness whatsoever. "Her and the rest. It's obvious they're Targaryen spies, can't you see her hair and eyes?" She had no idea what a Targaryen was, but it certainly couldn't be a good thing in that land. Be that as it may, she had a lot of questions at the moment and needed to find answers without sounding like a real lunatic.

"I am only carrying out orders from Stannis," said the old man, who was beginning to grow on her. "If you have any complaints take them up with him, I'm just following orders."

"I will. Robert should have left me in command, not some green and inexperienced boy" complained the guard, who apparently must have been more important than he had appeared to her at first glance, perhaps a captain or higher rank. "Follow me, and you'd better not refuse."

As they ascended the tower and left behind more and more floors, she wondered who had designed and built this monstrosity of a castle. The corridors tended to make strange curves, and rarely went straight through an intersection. A method of deceiving potential invaders, no doubt, Edelgard observed. Rather than corridors, they resembled tunnels. If her initial idea of slipping past the guards and searching for Hubert and the rest had seemed risky before, it was clear to her now that it would have been utter folly.

It took them less time than she expected to arrive. The other soldier stood guard at the door in case his services were required again, while she, the captain and the maester who had followed them a few paces behind entered the commander's room. The room was crude and austere, and the ornaments and decorations were so sparse that they stood out too much, as if they did not belong there. The man called Stannis sat with his hands resting on a wooden table, staring intently at a series of notes and papers.

"The prisoner, Ser," the captain said as he entered.

"Well, you may retire, Ser Gawen. Not you Cressen, stay" ordered the young man. From his appearance, he must have been of a similar age as her, perhaps a few years older, it was hard for her to tell at a glance.

"Ser, if she wanted to kill you..." objected the guard.

"I know how to defend myself, Ser Gawen, and besides I already have a guard at the gate. If an unarmed woman with a crippled arm can outmaneuver us, I doubt your presence would turn the tables." Ser Gawen turned red with rage, but did not protest and withdrew as ordered.

"Ser Gawen has only your best interests at heart, Ser," said the old man. "It would not do you any good to anger him too much."

"He will remain angry unless I cede command of the garrison to him," Stannis protested. "He is wrong to believe that because his father taught Robert and me how to wield the sword we owe him some sort of gratitude." He sighed, stood up and turned to her, clasping his hands behind his back. With all the hustle and bustle earlier she hadn't noticed him, but he was very tall, much taller than her and also taller than Cressen or the guards that had brought them there.

"First things first," he said with a frown. "Who are you and how did you get here? I have questioned nearly all of my garrison and not a single one of them remembers having seen you or your companions before."

"I do not intend to answer you until I know what you have done with my friends. Where are they?" she asked firmly.

"At the moment they are confined to quarters at the other end of the castle. As far as I know they keep asking for you, and very insistently" replied the young man, visibly annoyed by the question. "What happens to them and to you depends on what you answer next."

She weighed his options. She could try to come up with a name and a story for her suspicious arrival at that castle, but she didn't know if they had questioned any of her companions before her. If she lied it wouldn't take long for them to find out, and even more so considering she didn't have the faintest idea where they were.

"My name is Edelgard von Hresvelg. Both I and my comrades come from the Empire of Adestria, on the continent of Fodlan" replied Edelgard, hoping that those strangers did not know they were treating with the heir of the empire.

"Adestria? Fodlan?" asked Stannis looking at Cressen in confusion.

"I have never heard such names, Ser" replied the old man. "Perhaps they come from distant lands, beyond Asshai."

"If so, I should wonder why they speak the common tongue without difficulty. They must be raving, or taking us for fools."

"I know of no Asshai," Edelgard interjected. "My land lies beyond Almyra, between Dagda to the south and Sreng to the north." The new information brought no change in the look on both men's faces, beyond adding to their confusion.

"But you must know how you got here, don't you? You must have stopped at Volantis, Pentos or King's Landing perhaps." As they had with Fodlan, she did not identify any of the names they stated. "Do you even know where you are?"

"We're wasting our time, Cressen. She's clearly trying to play dumb," Stannis said when he saw that Edelgard was not answering any of his questions. By the Goddess, would you please let me even answer?

"I am not playing dumb, Ser Stannis" Edelgard protested. "Show me a map and I'll tell you where I come from." Her aggressiveness seemed to surprise and infuriate him by the way he grinded his teeth. The young man pushed aside his papers and unrolled a huge map on the table.

"Go ahead then. Tell us, or I'll send you and your companions straight to the dungeons. I have more important business than trying to find out whether or not you are spies."

Edelgard looked at the map in front of her, but more than a map it looked like a hieroglyphic to her. She understood the names written there, true, but she didn't know any of them. There were two continents totally unknown to her and a dozen islands and archipelagos scattered around, but she did not understand anything. Nothing bore any resemblance to the maps she knew. What is this madness? Where the hell are we?

"If I told you I've never seen a map like this in my life and I can't even tell you where we are, would you believe me Ser?"

"I told you, Cressen. She's only wasting our time..."

"Wait!" cried Edelgard. "I can prove to you what I say is true." This is madness, but in view of what I've seen it's the only way they'll believe me and we can all get out of here. That, or they'll execute us instantly, or at least try to.

She raised her hands in front of her, despite the pain it caused in her arm to do so. She felt the winds of magic in her fingertips and began to draw runes, feeling her fingers touch the power and begin to channel the magic into this world. The magical arts were not her strong point, but she knew enough to cast the occasional simple spell, as it was. The runic symbols lit up as Edelgard completed them, and by the looks on the faces of the two men, they were having the expected effect. When she finished drawing them, the runes vanished and a blast of air shot out of her hands, blowing the map and all the papers on Stannis' table into the air. Stannis' eyes were about to pop out of their sockets, and Cressen had been forced to lean back in a chair and looked as if he was about to faint.

"H-how? Impossible..." stammered Stannis without looking away from her.

"Stannis..." The young man raised a hand to command the old maester to be quiet.

"That was magic, wasn't it? No trick of lights can do that" Stannis said pointing to the papers, scattered all over the room.

"It was" Edelgard replied confidently. "From your reaction I imagine it's not a common sight in these lands."

"What, what are you? That glow from earlier... you caused it with your magic, didn't you?"

"That may be so. It's a long story, really," Edelgard replied, more relaxed, though it made her realize the fatigue she had been dragging from the battle with Solon.

"Your friends... are they like you?"

"Some. And many are more skilled than I am with spells." Stannis was trying to remain firm, but the way his hand was shaking gave away his true thoughts. "If I were you I would release them before they start to get nervous."

"Stannis-you can't. This is unnatural and dangerous. There are things in the world that are better left forgotten," Cressen said, his voice oozing fear with every word he spoke.

"How can you say that to me when I have just seen it before my very eyes?" protested Stannis.

A knock at the door cut Cresssen off before he could answer. As Stannis gave his permission, a soldier poked his head in from outside.

"Ser," he said with a worried face, not even noticing the sudden disorder in the room. "You need to see something."

"What is it now?" asked Stannis, somewhat annoyed at the interruption. "Has something happened with the prisoners?"

"No. It's about Lo-Lord Tyrell, Ser. He's in front of the gates. With what appears to be the whole army of the Reach."

CONSTANCE

The wagon jerked and shuddered as it crossed the rough road. Now that they were in the Riverlands and almost reaching the Crownlands, the Kingsroad had at last become something resembling a road.

What an impressive name for such a pitiful thing, thought the Shady Lady as the wagon jolted as it encountered a new bump in the road. Almost like mine once was.

It had been a long time since she had thought of herself in the self-destructive way she had years ago, but on days when the sun shone as brightly as it did that day she couldn't help but think how insignificant everything she had accomplished over the years was compared to that flaming star.

If only someone cared the least bit, fixing it would be easy. All it would take is a little maintenance and care. In a couple of years I could make it unrecognizable if I wanted to, Constance observed. After much talk with Ferdinand and many years of work, she had managed to come to some degree of understanding with her other self, or the Shady Lady, as she used to refer to her. They were both Constance, and at the same time they were not.

Our offer would only anger the king, Constance, said the Shady Lady. He barely tolerates Lord Stannis or Lady Edelgard, and only because of a couple of battles we barely participated in. That we have come this far is already an achievement far beyond what we deserve.

That was one of the biggest impediments for Constance. The admiration of the people for Lady Edelgard was proportional to the hatred of the nobility, including the king himself. It had taken Stannis years to convince his brother to set the Nuvelle bank project in motion, and even then many nobles were reluctant to deal with them, especially in the barren northern lands they had left behind weeks ago. In that sense, our trip north has proved as useless as I told you it would be, said the Shady Lady.

"Are you well, Lady Constance?" asked Ser Gerald Gower, who had been in charge of driving the wagon that day.

"As well as someone like me deserves to be, Ser Gerald. I am very sorry if my condition has caused you any concern. In that case, I offer you my sincerest apologies."

"There is no need, my lady. If there is anything I can do for you, just let me know," Ser Gerald replied, a bit confused as he was unfamiliar with her situation. "Really, I am here to serve you."

"How sorry I am then, that you are forced to serve someone like me."

Ser Gerald, not quite knowing what to reply, brushed off the comment and Constance tried to distract herself by studying the vicinity until, shortly thereafter, someone ordered the noon stop. This way we'll never get to King's Landing, Constance thought.

I agree, replied the Shady Lady.

Ser Gerald helped her down from the wagon and Constance opened her fan to shield herself from the sunlight as much as possible. A few seconds later they were joined by the rest of the Black Eagles, forming a huddle by the back of the wagon, where they kept the supplies.

"Six hares," Petra said proudly as she introduced them to that morning's hunt. Although they had more than enough provisions for the remainder of the trip, Constance was grateful for Petra's morning hunting parties, as they provided some variety in the monotony of the salted meat and fish they had. "I saw a wild boar too, but the king's men saw it too."

"It should be enough for the meal. We can prepare a stew and perhaps we will have enough left over for a good part of the evening meal as well," said Ser Richard Horpe as he lit a small fire on which to cook. As in the previous days, Lady Edelgard had invited the new recruits to share the meal with them. Or at least, what Edelgard meant by inviting. The lady of Dragonstone could use the same tone to order her troops to storm a castle as she could to invite someone to tea.

"Next time come with me, Jon Snow. That wolf of yours would help me a lot in the hunt," Petra said.

"If my father lets me, I'll be glad to. Although it may not seem like it, Ghost always likes to feel important" replied the boy.

"The boy should learn to cook first" said Ser Richard. "Come on lad, light the fire while I go get the pot."

Constance took out of her sleeve a small hand mirror that she always carried with her. Unlike Edelgard and Petra, for several days now Constance had decided to put her dresses back on and leave her war clothes in a trunk. At that moment, it was more important to play her role as Lady Nuvelle of Dragonstone than that of Constance, general of the Black Eagle Strike Force. Looking at herself in the mirror, she saw that her appearance was still flawless. The dark circles under her eyes that had arisen from those sleepless nights at the Neck had disappeared thanks in part to makeup and her hair was perfectly styled in elegant curls. Still, the road dust and her somewhat torn dress were not in keeping with the look she wanted to convey.

I can't afford carelessness like this now, thought the Shady Lady. What will Lady Edelgard think, or the rest of the nobles...

She had no time to continue her depressing thoughts, for unexpected visitors surprised them before Jon Snow had even managed to light the embers.

"My lords," said a man on horseback who had ridden up almost to the logs of the fire. He had tousled brown hair and a trimmed beard. He wore a brown tunic with a red stallion embroidered on his chest. He was followed by four other riders. They looked rather worse than the man leading them, so Constance guessed that they were his escort.

At last, Constance thought. I was beginning to worry. Don't even think of saying anything inappropiate.

"Pardon me, my lord. I don't believe we've been introduced," Edelgard said. She disguised it well, but Constance knew she was annoyed by the interruption.

"This is Lord Jonos Bracken, mother," said Morgan, cordially. "Forgive me if I am mistaken, my lord."

"You are not mistaken, my lady. You must be Lady Edelgard, am I right? Your reputation precedes you," said Lord Jonos.

"An honor to meet you" replied Edelgard. "This here is my daughter Morgan, and these my loyal companions. What can I do for you?"

"You see," said Janos Bracken with a frown and no hint of friendliness. "I was looking for Lady Constance von Nuvelle. I have been told that I might find her here."

Except for the new recruits, nervous in what for many was one of their first close encounters with a great lord, the rest watched Jonos Bracken with an indifferent gelidness and went about their business.

"I fail to explain to myself why such an illustrious lord might need my sultry presence" said the Shady Lady. That's enough. "But you should be pleased. After all, you are in the presence of a Nuvelle" replied Constance. The glaring rays of the midday sun blinded her, but she managed to keep her composure even with the effort it had taken to step outside.

"I am not pleased at all. I suppose you know why I came all this way to find you?" replied Jonos Bracken.

"I imagine so. And if my guess is correct, you should show more kindness to me, Lord Bracken. I don't think you might want to displease me."

"If you think you can frighten me with your threats..."

"What I think is that you have come all this way because the time has come to pay the debts you have contracted with my bank. And if you have not already done so, it is because you either have no intention of doing so or you do not have the money to do so. Am I wrong?" replied Constance, without even batting an eyelash. She found Jonos Bracken's insolence terribly amusing, but she had to keep her composure.

"This is not the deal I agreed to with the Bank of Nuvelle. I had five years to repay the loan, and your lackeys are already demanding it. If you don't intend to honor the agreement, don't expect me to..."

"You had three years to repay the loan, Lord Bracken," Constance interrupted him again. "With interest. With the possibility of extending it for two more years. Surely my agents did not see fit to grant you that extension."

"You granted it to Tytos Blackwood and Jason Mallister. And many more from what I understand. And yet you dare refuse my request, and that of many others. I have spoken to Lord Frey, Lord Royce..."

"Lord Darry, Lady Whent, Lord Vance, both Lords Fossoway... if you wish I can tell you some more you can chat with, but your point has been made clear. You will pay your debts to me, Lord Bracken. If you do not have the gold, it will be with the lands you put up as guarantee." Lord Jonos' face paled at that, and that combative, defiant look vanished in an instant.

"You can't. The king will not..."

"Allow it? Like he did not allow it with Lord Vance? Face it, I have the law on my side. So tell me, did you come here to settle that debt or to give yourself up to justice, Lord Jonos?" At those words, Edelgard, Petra, Hubert and the rest of the Black Eagles turned to Lord Bracken and his escorts as they slowly surrounded them. The nut of the Lord of Stone Hedge's gullet rose and fell in a mesmerizing manner.

"One of my men will go to Dragonstone to settle my debt before the next moon, my lady. We Brackens are men of our word. But do not think for a moment that this is over. I will see to it that all Westeros knows of your deceit and lies, usurer. I will see that you are ruined, I guarantee it."

Then he turned his horse around and rode with his men towards a group of northerners who had come from Winterfell to accompany Lord Stark, followed by the stares of the men of the Black Eagle Strike Force. As they walked away, Constance put a hand behind her back and quickly and subtly drew one of the new arcane runes she had designed years ago, trying to go unnoticed by the new recruits and any curious eyes that were watching. It only lasted an instant, but the sensation of her fingers touching the power was unmistakable. When she finished, she let out a light, icy puff in the direction of the riders. Mere seconds later, the horses suddenly and suddenly reared up, dismounting Lord Bracken and his escorts and sending them rolling across the dusty ground.

"Well, I guess that concludes the negotiation" laughed Asha loudly, followed by the rest of her comrades. Even Edelgard and Hubert allowed themselves to smile, and young Morgan tried unsuccessfully to hide her laughter by covering her mouth with the back of her hand. She would have joined in the general laughter as well, but that conversation in broad sunlight had left her exhausted.

"What uncivilized conversation on my part," said the Shady Lady. "I should go into a corner and regret what just happened..."

"Ehm... excuse me Lady Constance but... wasn't it very bold to speak to Lord Bracken like that?" asked one of the new recruits, Eddard Stark's bastard, who was also trying not to laugh too much. "Aren't you afraid he might go to the king and retaliate?"

"The Nuvelle Central Bank is one of the crown's biggest financiers, so except for a few words of encouragement I don't think he'll accomplish anything more. True, on occasion the bank has had problems with some delinquent nobles, but old Jon Arryn, gods rest his soul, came to an agreement with my husband on the matter and all was settled. To Lord Bracken's misfortune, the law is very clear, however much he may wish to protest" Lady Edelgard settled as soon as possible. "Jonos Bracken is just a man, like any other nobleman. He is not above any of you, don't forget that."

"With all due respect, my lady," said another of the recruits. "It is easy for you to say, or even for a bastard of Lord Stark, but my father is a shepherd on Lord Manderly's lands. If I dared even address any other great lord, he could have me flogged for my insolence without a second thought."

"None of those lords you fear so much would know how to tend a sheep, young Cley. Neither would I, Jon Snow, or any of us here. Don't underestimate yourself so much. When I first met Ser Gerald here, he was mucking out the stables at Storm's End, and that hasn't stopped him from laughing at Lord Bracken."

"That was a very funny fall," said Ser Gerald smiling.

"Yes m-, my lady, though I make no promises."

"It is enough for me at the moment that you learn to cook a stew with some flavor," said Ser Richard. "Jon Snow, stop laughing and light the fire at once!"

SANSA

"Where is your sister?" asked Septa Mordane nervously. "She knows for a fact that we have been invited to ride with the Queen and Princess Myrcella in the royal wagon today. She should be dressed and spotless by now."

She herself was already spotless. She had brushed her long auburn hair until it was smooth and silky and had put on a dazzling blue silk gown. She had been looking forward to that day for days. Traveling with the royal family was a great honor, and she would see Prince Joffrey, her betrothed. It was still hard to take in. Just thinking about it made her hair stand on end, even though they were still years away from getting married. She was in love with him. He was tall, handsome, strong and had beautiful golden curls. The only thing that bothered her about that situation was Arya. She had the ability to spoil everything.

"She'll show up" Sansa replied somewhat uncertainly. "She'll probably be out there with Jon."

"That child... your father forbade her to associate with those crooks. It's not ladylike," the septa said as she helped herself to a slice of honeyed bread.

Better with them than with me, or she'll spoil everything.

"May I be excused?" asked Sansa.

"Yes, of course, but don't get distracted. We can't afford to be late."

Sansa rose and left the inn's common room, followed closely by Lady, her direwolf. The inn they had stopped at was the largest she had ever seen, and still not large enough to hold the entire royal entourage which, counting her father's men and a few free riders who had joined them along the way, numbered close to five hundred.

Arya stood on the bank of the Trident with Jon, dressed in the same riding clothes she had been wearing for two or three days now. Her sister carried a wooden sword in her hand and clumsily attempted to deliver blows to her bastard brother, who deflected them in turn with his own training sword. Jon's new group, the King's Black Eagles, watched them curiously, accompanied by Nymeria, Arya's direwolf, and laughed from time to time. Their wagon seemed already prepared and they were simply waiting for the march to begin.

"Aim for the knees!" shouted one of the soldiers. She wore her hair short and dressed like a man, something totally unbecoming not only for a lady, but for any woman.

"Arya! What are you doing?!" shouted Sansa at the sight of the show her sister was putting on. "You have to go and put on something nice, Septa Mordane told you so. We're riding in the Queen's wagon with the princes today."

"Not me" replied Arya as she struck Jon in the knee with the wooden sword, taking advantage of Jon's distraction, who let out a cry of pain. The soldiers laughed again, completely forgetting Sansa's presence.

"The Queen invited us both, Arya. Come on, they're waiting for us."

"What do I care?" retorted Arya. "This is so much funnier."

"You're going to spoil everything, Arya. Besides, father forbade you from hanging out with these people. Only Jon can, and that's because he's a bastard."

No sooner had those words finished coming out of her mouth than there was a brutal silence. Sansa felt several pairs of eyes watching her, and she felt a shuddering chill. It was as if they were about to do something horrible and dreadful to her.

"Lady Sansa has just woken up and I'm sure she's very tired," said a voice beside her. It was Morgan, Joffrey's cousin and niece of the king. She was Lady Edelgard's daughter, but to Sansa's eyes they could not be more different. She did look like a real lady, as she had been able to tell from the time they had spent embroidering together at Winterfell, or having tea and cupcakes. "If you'll excuse us we're going for a walk." Lady Edelgard, who stood among her men, gave a slight nod of her head.

They moved away from the group and headed toward the center of the camp. Lady walking among them with soft footsteps.

"I admit my mother and the Black Eagles can be a bit...overwhelming" Lady Morgan said with an uneasy smile.

"They defend the king's peace, it wasn't nice of me to say that" Sansa admitted, trying to apologize.

"Don't worry too much about that, most of them have been called worse. I'm sure they're laughing right now about what happened, or maybe they've already forgotten. So… my aunt has invited you to spend the day with her, from what I've come to hear?"

"Yes, that was very kind of her, are you coming too?" asked Sansa. Spending the day with her friend would get her through the rough patch from earlier, though deep down she'd rather have Joffrey all to herself.

"No. I mean, it wouldn't be right to show up there uninvited...but send my regards to Tommen and Myrcella when you see them. They're lovely children."

"Of course. I'll also give Joffrey my regards from you."

"No need. Let's just say Joffrey and I are like Arya and you. We don't get along particularly well, we have somewhat different personalities."

"Oh," Sansa said in surprise. She couldn't believe that someone like her would get along badly with Joffrey. True, her sister didn't like him, but Arya was Arya and her opinion didn't matter in these things. As they approached the center of the camp, Sansa saw how a large crowd had gathered before the queen's wheeled house. She caught a glimpse that the doors were open, the Queen standing at the top of the wooden steps, smiling at someone lower down.

"The Small Council has granted us a great honor, my lords," she heard the Queen say.

"What is it?" asked Morgan one of those present.

"The Small Council has sent riders from King's Landing to provide us with escort the rest of the road. An honor guard for the King."

Sansa was dying for a better look, so she allowed Lady to lead the way through the crowd for her, completely forgetting about her friend. When she was closer, she saw four knights who had knelt down in the ground before the queen.

The armor of one of the knights was snow white, with silver clasps glinting in the sun that holding the white cloak of the Kingsguard. He was an old man with hair as white as his armor, but he looked sturdy and strong. Another of his companions had copper-colored hair as long as a woman's mane. He was not as young as the other two, for he must have been his father's age, more or less, but he was still very handsome. His armor was silver and gold, and from it hung a crimson cloak.

The other two riders were younger, though there were years of difference between them. If it weren't for that, Sansa would have said they were twin brothers. Both had jet-black hair, but while the older of the two wore it down to his shoulders, the other, who would have been Robb's age, wore it short, barely to his ears. The first wore dark green armor, with a horned helmet worn under his arm, while the other's was as black as coal.

At first, she had not noticed the other two strangers, standing to one side beside the horses, watching everything with a grim expression. The first was a practically bald, bony man, wearing old, worn armor with a greatsword hanging in his back. The other was a woman, somewhat older than Sansa, wearing a violet shirt and riding breeches. She had shoulder-length black hair and expressionless gray eyes. The latter seemed to notice the pressure of her gaze and turned her head very slowly toward her. Suddenly, she was overcome with utter terror.

"A wolf," said a man suddenly.

"By the seven hells, it's a beast. What's it doing here?" said another.

Around her gathered a gawking group. She felt all eyes on her, including those of the newcomers. She felt fear and shame again and tears welled in her eyes.

"Go with her, Joffrey," she heard Queen Cersei say. And suddenly, there stood her prince.

"Leave her alone," said Joffrey. "What is it, my sweet lady? No one will dare harm you. Calm yourselves, all of you. The direwolf is her animal companion, that's all."

Sansa tried to control herself. She felt stupid. She was a Stark of Winterfell, a highborn lady, and someday she would be queen.

"It was nothing, I simply startled," she tried to explain to him.

"Well said, child," said the knight in white. "To tell you the truth, I for one was scared at the sight of your direwolf. In that respect you have been braver than this old man. I can tell you are Eddard Stark's daughter. I am Ser Barristan Selmy, of the Kingsguard. At your service."

Sansa curtsied, as she had learned.

"Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and advisor to our good King Robert. The pleasure is mine, Barristan the Brave."

"Don't flatter him so much, he is already vain enough as he is," the red-haired knight laughed again. "Well wolf girl, if you are also able to call me by my name I will have to acknowledge that you are without a doubt the daughter of our Lord Hand."

"More careful when you address my betrothed" said Joffrey tensely.

"I want to answer," Sansa said to placate her prince. "From Dorne to the Wall all the realm has heard of the feats of the knight with the hair the color of dawn. You must be the Astral Knight."

"That's right, I am Ferdinand von Aegir. The honor is mine, my lady."

"Well, I guess it's our turn now," said the knight in green.

"Is this a contest?" said Joffrey, with refocused contempt. "Leave my betrothed alone."

"Your helmet bears the golden antlers, my lord, the symbol of House Baratheon. By your youth you can only be Renly Baratheon, lord of Storm's End." She looked at the young man in black. "And you must be..."

"A smug good for nothing," Morgan's voice said behind her. "That's what I call him. How are you, little brother?"

"Good to see you too, my dearest sister," the young man said with a smile. "Ser Edrik Baratheon-Hresvelg, my lady. Son of Lord Stannis Baratheon, of Dragonstone."

"Have you been knighted yet, cousin?" asked Joffrey, uneasily. "What was it for, counting ships or reading books?" Many of those present joined in the laughter, including Lord Renly and the queen, but not so Morgan or his brother. Nor did the brunette girl, who watched Joffrey with a murderous look where before there was only indifference.

"Sansa, my dear," said the queen, interrupting them. "I must speak with the King's advisors until your father returns with him. I'm very sorry, but the day you were to spend with Myrcella will have to wait. Joffrey, would you be so kind as to spend the day with your betrothed?"

"It would be my pleasure, Mother," Joffrey said, taking her arm kindly and leading her away from the crowd. Her heart was pounding - she was going to spend a whole day with her prince! "What do you feel like doing?"

"Whatever you wish my prince," Sansa replied. Be with you.

"We can go horseback riding" Joffrey said after a moment's meditation. "No, your direwolf might frighten the horses. I know, I have a better idea."

He took her arm again and they headed towards the riverbank. Everything seemed magical until she saw where Joffrey was leading her.

"Why are we going there, my prince?" asked Sansa nervously.

"To have a little talk with my cousin. I forgot to congratulate him on his new title. Don't worry, it'll take but a moment," said Joffrey with a smirk.

The Black Eagles' men were still where they had left them minutes before. Morgan had joined the group, as had her brother, Ser Ferdinand and the mysterious creepy woman. Ser Edrik was hugging his mother when they caught up with them.

"Dear cousin!" exclaimed Joffrey. "I forgot to congratulate you properly."

Ser Edrik turned to them, but did not look too pleased to see his cousin again.

"There's no need for that, Joff. I understand you have more important things to do" Edrik said keeping his composure, although his displeasure and anger was clear in the tone of his voice.

"Not really" replied Joffrey, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Why don't you pick up your sword and show me what you've learned?" he continued, as he unsheathed his own.

"My prince, weren't you going to spend time with me?" said Sansa anxiously. From one moment to the next, everything had gone awry.

"There will be time for that. Go on, take your weapon cousin, and call me your majesty. I'm your prince, don't forget that."

"My duty as a knight is to protect you, my prince. It would not be proper," Edrik said, nervously. Joffrey stepped even closer, raised his sword and placed the point on his cousin's cheek. The rest of those present said nothing, but Sansa saw how they had all brought their hands to the hilts of their weapons, preparing for the worst.

"Well, what a knight you are. You're not even capable of protecting yourself. Come on, fight. I promise not to hurt you, well, not much. Or do you only fight with wooden swords like the Northerners?"

Suddenly, her sister, Arya, lunged at Joffrey and struck him with her training sword to the back of his neck. Joffrey staggered and turned away amid curses. Events began to rush before Sansa's terrified eyes. Just as Joffrey seemed about to attack Arya with his sword, a flash of gray lightning sped past her. Nymeria jumped and locked her jaw over the arm with which Joffrey held the sword. They rolled in the grass, the direwolf snarling and Joffrey shrieking in pain.

"Get her off me!" he shouted. "Get her off me!"

"Nymeria!" echoed Arya's voice. The direwolf released Joffrey and went to stand beside her owner. The prince lay on the grass, sobbing and clutching his wounded arm as blood soaked the sleeve of his suit.

"Joff! What's going on here?!" the queen's voice suddenly said, stupefied. In her green eyes, there was only hatred and utter disdain, and she was surrounded by several dozen knights, all their swords drawn.