Chapter 29 Chapter 28 Sansa

This morning, her new dress was finally finished, and the maids filled the tub with steaming hot water and scrubbed her body until her skin turned red.Cersei sent her maid to trim her nails, cut and wash her auburn hair, which she wore in soft curls over her back.The maid also brought a dozen of the Queen Mother's favorite essences, and Sansa selected a bottle of sweet and strong toilet water, mixed with a hint of lemon.The maid poured the perfume on her fingertips and touched her ears, chin and nipples lightly. Then Cersei arrives in person with her seamstress to judge Sansa's dress.The underwear was all silk, and the dress itself was woven of ivory brocade and silver thread, trimmed with silver satin.When she lowered her arms, the long sleeves almost touched the floor.It was a grown woman's dress, not a girl's, she was sure of that.The bodice, whose V-shaped opening almost reached the belly, was made of richly embellished Myrish lace in dove grey.The skirt itself was long and oversized, with such a thin waist that Sansa had to hold her breath while they fastened the sash for her.Her new shoes were light gray moccasin slippers that wrapped around her feet like lovers. "You are very handsome, madam," remarked the tailor.

"Really? Really?" Sansa giggled coquettishly, while spinning and jumping, her skirt fluttering. "Oh, oh!" She couldn't wait for Vilas to see it!He will love me, he will, he will...he will forget Winterfell, and fall in love with me.oh! Queen Cersei scrutinized her with a critical eye. "I think it would be more suitable to bring jewelry. I will use the moonstone sent by Joffrey to send Internet cafes." "Yes, Your Majesty," replied the Queen Mother's maid. Seeing the hairnet hanging from Sansa's ears and covering her neck, the Queen Mother nodded with satisfaction. "Well, well. The gods have favored you, Sansa, and made you so beautiful. It's hard to give such a sweet, innocent girl to that monster."

"Monster? What monster?" Sansa didn't understand.She means Vilas?How does she know?Nobody knew but herself, Margaery, and the Queen of Thorns... oh, and Dontos knew, but he was a puny buffoon! Cersei Lannister did not answer. "Bring the cloak," she ordered, and the maids obeyed—it was a long white velvet cloak adorned with countless pearls, and embroidered with a fierce direwolf in silver thread.Sansa had only to look at it for a sudden terror. "Those are the colors of your house," said Cersei, as the maids fastened the cloak around her neck with a thin silver chain.

Bridal cloak.Sansa reached down her throat involuntarily, just wanting to tear the thing off and throw it away. "Shut up and you will be more beautiful, Sansa," Cersei told her. "Now go, the monk is waiting for you, and countless wedding guests." "No," Sansa blurted out, "No!" "Why not? You are fostered by the royal family, and the king is your guardian. Since your brother committed a rebellion and has been deprived of all rights, His Majesty is obliged to arrange a marriage for you. Your husband is my brother Tyrion." They're counting on your inheritance, she thought with nausea.My jester knight is no fool after all, he did not lie to me.Sansa took a step back from the Queen Mother, "I'm not going." I'm going to marry Vilas, I'm going to be Lady of Highgarden, please...

"It's hard for you, I know. Cry if you want, I'd have to pull my hair out. He's a mean, dirty, disgusting little monster, but you must marry him." "You can't force me to marry!" "Of course we can force you. You can go quietly like a lady, and say those vows; or you can struggle and scream and be the butt of the stableboys--it doesn't matter in the end, you must marry, and then to bed." The queen opened the door, and Ser Meryn Tran and Ser Osmund Kettleblack were waiting outside, in the full scales of the Kingsguard, "to escort Lady Sansa to the sept," she commanded, "if she If you resist, just drag it away, but don't damage the clothes, it costs a lot of money."

Sansa ran, only to be caught by Cersei's handmaid within a yard.Ser Meryn Tran glared at her, making her cringe, and Kettleblack touched her lightly, saying, "Do as your Majesty tells you, cutie, it's not so bad. The direwolf should be brave, Isn't it?" brave.Sansa took a deep breath.Yes, I am a Stark and I should be brave.The people were all looking at her, with the same expressions they had seen when she had been stripped by Ser Boros Braun in the arena.That day, it was the little devil, the man she was going to marry today, who saved her.At least he wasn't as bad as the gang, she told herself. "I'll go quietly."

Cersei smiled. "I knew you would." She left, but her mind was a blur, unable to remember how to leave the room, how to go down the stairs, how to cross the courtyard, and the only thought was to force herself to take one step after another.Ser Meryn and Ser Osmond had her between them, their cloaks as pale as her bridal cloak, but without the jewels and the direwolf crest.Joffrey was waiting for her on the steps outside the castle sept, dazzling in crimson and gold in his crown. "Today, I am your father," he announced. "No way," she countered, "you never will be."

His face darkened. "Of course I am. As your father's stand-in, I have the right to marry you to anyone. Anyone! Just one word, and you have to pay homage to the swineherd boy and sleep in the pigsty with him." His blue eyes excited flashing. "I could offer you to Ser Ilyn Payne too, don't you think?" Her heart tightened. "I beg you, Your Majesty," she begged, "if...if you ever had a little bit of love for me, please don't let me marry your—" "—uncle?" Tyrion Lannister came out through the sept doors. "Your Majesty," he said to Joffrey, "may I have a moment to speak with Miss Sansa alone?"

The king tried to refuse at first, but his mother gave him a sharp look, and he stepped back. Tyrion wore a black velvet tunic trimmed with gold scrolls, his boots added three inches to his height, and a necklace of rubies and a lion's head hung around his neck.But the scar on his face was red and horrible, and his nose was even more ugly. "You are so charming, Sansa," he told her. "Thank you, my lord." She could think of no other words.Should I praise him for being handsome?If I say that, will he see me as a liar or a fool?She hung her head and said nothing. "Miss, I am very sorry to think that you were forced to accept this marriage, so suddenly and so unexpectedly. It is in the interest of the country to keep the secret, which is the intention of my lord father, and for this reason he has not allowed me to come in person. Greetings, sorry." He paced over. "I understand that this marriage is not to your liking, and I will not force it. If you don't want to, you can refuse me and choose my cousin Sir Lancel. How about this? He is about your age, and he is not bad-looking. If you think this is better, just speak up, and I will never stop you."

I don't want to marry any Lannister, she wants to say to him, I want Vilas, I want Highgarden, I want our puppies and flower boats, I want my Eddard, Brandon and Rickon.But Dontos's words suddenly echoed in his ears: The Tyrells are exactly the same as the Lannisters, and they are planning your inheritance. "You are very kind, my lord," she said, with despair in her heart. "As a ward of the royal family, it is my duty to obey His Majesty's instructions." He examined her carefully with those eyes of different sizes. "Sansa, I know I'm not the girl of your dreams," he said softly, "but I'm not Joffrey either."

"You are not," she replied, "you have been very kind to me, as I remember." Tyrion held out a thick, short-fingered hand. "Come on, then, let us do our duty." So they shook hands, and he led her to the wedding altar.The monk stands between the Father and the Virgin, waiting to witness the union of the couple.She saw Ser Dontos in the jester's mottled attire, staring at her with great round eyes.Among the Kingsguard were Ser Balon Swann and Ser Boros Brawne, but there was no sign of Ser Loras.All the Tyrells were absent, she realized suddenly.But there was no shortage of guests and witnesses: Eunuch Varys, Ser Adam Marbrand, Sir Philip Ford, Ser Bronn, Jalabhar Thor, and a dozen other dignitaries.She saw Earl Gales who was coughing, Countess Emersande who was breastfeeding, and Countess Tanda's pregnant daughter who was crying inexplicably. She's crying, Sansa thought, and I'll be like her when the wedding is over. To Sansa, the whole ceremony seemed to be happening in a dream.She did it all meekly.Prayers, oaths, and praises, a hundred long candles were burning, and a hundred dancing lights, seen from her dim tears, turned into thousands of fireworks.She was wrapped in her father's coat of arms, and no one noticed that she was crying; or maybe they had seen it before and just pretended not to care.In the midst of numbness, it was time to change the cloak. As king, Joffrey takes the place of his father, Lord Eddard Stark.She stiffened as a spear as his hand found her shoulder, toward the clasp of the cloak.A hand swept across her breast, pinching it, and her bridal cloak was undone, and Joffrey swept it down gracefully and dramatically, grinning. His uncle was not as calm as he was.The groom's cloak that Tyrion wore was thick and heavy, red velvet trimmed with lions and bordered with gold satin and rubies.No one helped, no one brought a stool, and the groom was a full foot and a half shorter than the bride.He came up behind her, and Sansa felt him tug on her skirt.He made me kneel, and she blushed at the thought.This is not how it should be.She dreamed of her wedding a thousand times, dreaming that her fiancé was strong and tall, standing tall in front of her, draping his cloak over her shoulders, expressing eternal protection.Then, as he leaned over to fasten her hooks, he kissed her lightly. She felt a second tug, more urgent this time.I don't kneel!No one cares about my feelings anyway. The dwarf pulled her a third time.And she pouted stubbornly, pretending not to care.Behind him, someone snickered.It's the Queen Mother, she thought, but it doesn't matter who it is.By the end, all laughed, Joffrey the loudest of all. "Dontos, lie down on the ground," ordered the King, "my uncle will not be able to climb on the bride." As a result, her lord had to stand on the jester's back and fasten her the crimson cloak of House Lannister. Sansa turned to see the dwarf staring up at her, mouth set, face as red as the cloak she was wearing.Suddenly, ashamed of her stubbornness, she smoothed her skirts and knelt before her husband so that their heads were at the same height. "Through this kiss, offer my love, may you be my husband and reliance." "Give me my love through this kiss," the dwarf whispered hoarsely, "may you be my wife and wife." He leaned forward, four lips touching in the air. He is so ugly.Sansa thought as he drew near.He was uglier than the Hound. The adepts held the crystal aloft, iridescent light shining on their faces. "Here, under the witness of the gods and the world," he said loudly, "I solemnly declare that Tyrion of the Lannister family and Sansa of the Stark family are married, and from now on they will be one. Body, one mind, one soul, forever. Anyone who interferes with their marriage will be mercilessly cursed." She bit her lip so as not to cry. The wedding banquet was held in the small hall in the prime minister's tower, and there were about fifty participants, including not only the witnesses of the wedding, but also the vassals and allies of the Lannister family.The members of House Tyrell finally show up.Margaery glanced at her sadly. The Queen of Thorns entered with the support of her left and right hands, with the expression on her face that she was a corpse that had been buried in the ground, while Elo, Yalan and Mei Ge pretended not to know her.This is my friend, Sansa thought bitterly. Her husband drank more and ate less.He nodded curtly when someone came up to deliver food or congratulate him, and was otherwise as gloomy as a rock most of the time.The wedding feast seemed endless, and Sansa had no appetite.She only hoped that all this would end early, but she was afraid of the moment when it all ended - because at that time, a new house was about to start.The men would turn her back to the marriage bed, stripping naked along the way, making loud and rude jokes about what had happened to her tonight; and the women would do the same to Tyrion.After people had enough fun, they let them hug each other naked, retreated outside the new house to watch the fun, and yelled all kinds of obscene language through the door.This is a wedding custom in Westeros. She has felt very curious, excited and looking forward to it since she was a child, but now she only feels fear.She didn't cry when they undressed her, but she knew the tears would flow when she heard the first lewd tease. When the musicians began to play, she timidly put her hand on Tyrion's, "My lord, shall we lead the dance?" He twisted his lips, "I think we've entertained everyone enough today, don't you think?" "Yes, my lord." She pulled her hand back. So, the dance was led by Joffrey and Margaery.How could this monster dance so gracefully?Sansa couldn't help thinking.She often daydreams about how she would dance and dance at the wedding reception, with every eye on her and her Prince Charming.In the dream, everyone's faces were filled with joy; but now, even her husband didn't even smile. The guests flocked to join the king and his fiancée.Eero danced with her young squire and her fiancé, and Meegor danced with Prince Tommen.The dark-haired, dark-eyed Myrish beauty, Mrs. Marilyweath, danced so provocatively that she caught the attention of every man in the hall.The Duke and Duchess of Tyrell danced methodically.Ser Kevan Lannister has invited Lady Jayna Fossoway, Lord Tyrell's sister.Menedith Clanne went down with the exiled prince Jalabhar Thor, who wore an exaggerated costume of feathers.Queen Cersei Lannister danced first with Lord Redwyne, then with Lord Rowan, and finally with her own father, and the Prime Minister danced smoothly, calmly and seriously. Sansa sat still, her hands on her knees, watching the Queen dance and laugh and toss her golden curls.She's so charming, Sansa thought dully, and I hate her so much.So she turned her head away to watch Yuetong and Dontos dance. "Lady Sansa," said Ser Garland Tyrell, stepping below the dais, "may I have the honor of dancing with you? If your lord will allow it?" The little devil's eyes of different sizes squeezed in the middle. "My wife dances with whoever she wants." Perhaps she should have stayed with her husband, but she wanted to dance so badly... and besides, Ser Garland was the brother of Margaery and Vilas and the Knight of Flowers. "Sir, seeing your face, I understand why people call you 'Garland'," she said, taking his hand. "Madam is too famous. In fact, this nickname was given by me, Gevilas, in order to protect me." "Protect you?" She looked at him puzzled. Sir Garland laughed. "I was a fat little boy, and we had an uncle named Gars the Stout. Wellas took that nickname for me, lest I should ever be like him. At first he threatened me as a joke, calling me 'anemic' Garland, 'distressed' Garland and 'ugly' Garland." Thinking of these sweet jokes, Sansa couldn't help smiling.She suddenly became absurdly happy, feeling that there was hope for the future after all—even if it wasn't much hope.She laughed and let the music guide her, lost in the dance steps, lost in the blowing of flutes, harps and bagpipes, lost in the beat of the drums... The dance brought them closer, and now and then she fell into Sir Garland's arms. "My wife is very concerned about you," he said quietly. "Lady Leonie is very kind. Please tell her I am all right." "A married bride should be more than 'good,'" he said softly. "You look like you're on the verge of tears." "Tears of joy, sir." "Your eyes tell it all." Ser Garland walked her around, drawing her closer. "Ma'am, I've seen the way you look at my brother. Loras is brave and handsome and the pride of our family... but your little devil is husband material, trust me he's bigger than he looks many." Before Sansa could answer, the change of music separated the two.This time it was a red-faced, sweaty Mace Tyrell, then Lady Merryweather, and then Prince Tommen. "I want to get married too," cried the fat little prince, nine years old, "I'm taller than my uncle!" "Yeah, little one," Sansa told him before parting.Afterwards, Ser Kevan praised her for her beauty, and Jalabhar Thor murmured in the language of the Summer Isles she could not understand, and Lord Redwyne wished her a long and happy marriage and many fat boys.When the partners changed again, it was her turn to face Joffrey. Sansa stiffened instantly, but the king took her hand tightly, drawing her closer. "Don't be so sad, my uncle is indeed short and ugly, but you can come and accompany me." "You're going to marry Margaery!" "A king can do as he pleases. My father slept with many whores. There was once King Aegon who did that - Aegon III, or IV, it seems - and he had many whores and many bastards." They spun to the music, Joffrey gave her a wet kiss. "As long as I open my mouth, my uncle will send you to my bed." Sansa shook her head desperately, "No, he won't." "Of course he will, or I'll want his head. That's how King Aegon used to be, who wanted whoever he wanted, whether married or not." Thankfully, it's time to switch partners again.But her feet were stiff as wood, and Lord Rowan, Ser Tallard, and Eero's fiancé must have thought her a particularly bad partner.In the end it was Sir Garland's turn again, and luckily the dance ended at that point. Her relief didn't last a moment, and when the music died down, Joffrey yelled, "It's house time! Let's take off her clothes and see how the she-wolf fucks my uncle!" People echoed loudly. Her dwarf husband slowly raised his eyes from the glass. "I don't want to make a new house." Joffrey grabbed Sansa's arm, "Must! This is my order!" The little devil slammed the dagger into the table, the handle trembling. "Very well, then you'll have to pretend to be a dick when you make a new house yourself, and I'll castrate you, I swear." There was a horrified silence.Sansa tried to move away from Joffrey, but he clung to her and tore her sleeve.No one heard, no one cared.Queen Cersei turned to her father, "Did you hear what he said?" Duke Tywin stood up, "We can discuss the matter of building a new house. But, Tyrion, I will not allow you to speak wild words that involve the king's personal safety." She saw the veins popping out of her husband's face. "I slipped," he said at last. "It was a poor joke, Your Majesty." "How dare you threaten to castrate me!" Joffrey screamed. "Yes, my lord," said Tyrion, "I am so jealous of your noble lifeblood, for mine is so short and small." He looked evilly at his nephew. Don't cut off my tongue, otherwise I really don't know what to use to satisfy the beautiful wife you gave me." Ser Osmund Kettleblack could not help laughing, and the others snickered too, except for Joffrey and Lord Tywin. "Your Majesty," said the Prime Minister, "you see, my son is very drunk." "Yes," the imp admitted, "but not too drunk to go to bed." He jumped off the ledge and took Sansa's hand roughly. "Come on, wife, it's time for me to break down your gates. Let's have a good castle game tonight." Sansa blushed and let the dwarf lead her out of the hall.What choice do I have?The way Tyrion walked was an odd waddle, especially when he was walking as fast as he was now.Gods be blessed, Joffrey or the others did not follow. Since they are newlyweds, a large bedroom on the upper floor of the Prime Minister Tower was specially set aside for their use.Once inside, Tyrion kicked the door shut. "Sansa, there's a jug of fine Arbor blond wine in the sideboard, pour me a glass, please?" "Is that all right, my lord?" "It doesn't get any better than that. You see, I'm not actually drunk, but I really want to be." Sansa took out two glasses and each filled one.Would it be easier if I was drunk too?Sitting on the edge of the huge canopied bed, she took three deep breaths and drank half of the glass.The wine is good wine, but she was so nervous that she couldn't taste it, she just felt dizzy. "Would you like me to undress, my lord?" "Tyrion." He looked up. "My name is Tyrion, Sansa." "Tyrion. My lord, will you undress me, or will you undress me?" She swallowed another drink. The little devil turned his head away from her, "The first time I got married, it was officiated by a drunken monk, and a group of pigs were witnesses. My wife and I used our witnesses to organize the wedding banquet. Tessa fed me bones, and I learned from her We licked the oil on our hands, and after eating and drinking, we laughed and rolled on the bed..." "You were married? Sorry, I... I forgot." "You haven't forgotten anything, because I never told anyone." "Who is your wife, my lord?" Sansa couldn't help but wonder. "My Lady Tessa," his lips twisted, "is from the Silver Fist family (Note: SILVERFIST, meaning a handful of silver coins), and their family coat of arms is a hundred and one coins on a bloodstained bed sheet— A hundred silver pieces and a gold piece. Our marriage was short-lived . Sansa looked at her hands, but could not say anything. "How old are you, Sansa?" Tyrion asked after a while. "Thirteen," she said, "is still half a month away." "Gods be merciful," said the dwarf, taking another swig of his wine. "Well, talking won't make you grow up. So, ma'am, can we go on? Would you?" "As long as my husband is happy, I will do anything." He seemed annoyed to hear this. "You use politeness as a wall and hide yourself behind it." "Manners are a lady's armor," Sansa replied.This was what Septa Mordane had often taught. "I am your husband. You should take off your armor." "Do you want me to undress?" "That's right." He pushed away the wine glass, "My lord father has clearly ordered me to complete this marriage." She began to undress, her hands trembling uncontrollably, as if she had no fingers, only ten stakes riddled with holes.At last she managed to undo the buttons and belts, and let the cloak, skirt, belt, and petticoat slide to the floor.Then I took off my underwear and got goosebumps on my arms and thighs.She looked at the floor, too ashamed to look at her husband, and when she was naked she glanced at him and found him staring at her intently.There was hunger in the green eyes, and anger in the black eyes.Sansa couldn't tell which was scarier. "You're still a child," said the husband. She covers her breasts with her hands. "I'm having a period." "You're a child," he repeated, "but I want you. Are you afraid, Sansa?" "afraid." "I'm scared too. I know I'm ugly—" "No, my husband—" He stood up, "Don't panic, Sansa, I know I'm a deformity, hideous and ugly, disproportionately short, but..." She heard him swallow, "...But, as long as you On the bed, blow out the candles, and I will be as strong as any other man. Blow out the candles, and I will be your Knight of Flowers." He took another sip of wine. "I am very generous, and I will repay loyalty to those who are loyal to me. You see, I am not a coward when I fight, and I am not bad at using my brain-at least, this little cleverness should be affirmed. Besides, my He's kind of gentle, and gentleness is not in our Lannister family, but I know I can do it. I can... I can be a good husband for you." He was as scared as I was, Sansa finally understood.Maybe she should be nice to him, but she really can't.In her heart, all she could feel was pity, and pity was the poison of desire.He looked at her fixedly, expecting her to say something, but she couldn't say anything.She just stood trembling. Tyrion Lannister drank all his wine in one gulp when he knew she wouldn't give him any answers. "I see," he said bitterly. "Go to bed, Sansa. We have to do our duty." She climbed onto the feather bed, aware that he continued to stare at her.A spiced beeswax candle burned on the bedside table, and countless rose petals were strewn across the sheets.She pulled up the blanket, trying to cover her body, but her husband said, "No." She felt cold, but complied, closing her eyes and waiting quietly.After a while, she heard her husband take off his shoes, followed by the rustle of undressing.Sansa trembled again when he jumped onto the bed and put his hands on her breasts.She closed her eyes tightly, every muscle was tensed, and she was terrified of what was about to happen.Will he touch her again?Will you kiss her?Should I spread my legs?She didn't know what to do. "Sansa," the husband let go of his hand, "please open your eyes." She had to obey her husband, so she opened her eyes.I saw the other party sitting naked at her feet, where the legs meet, the long and hard penis protruding from a thick clump of golden hair - that is the only straight part of his whole body. "Ma'am," Tyrion began, "don't get me wrong, you're very lovely, but I... I can't do that. Oh, what a bastard my father is! Never mind, we can wait, January, year, season , no matter how long it takes. Do it when you understand me and trust me." He smiled, as if to reassure her, but the noseless face was even more terrifying and weird. Watch him, Sansa told herself, watch her husband, get to know him well.Septa Mordane had said that there is something lovely about every man, find it in him, look hard.So she looked at her husband's short legs, his puffy forehead, his black eyes and his golden hair and beard.So ugly, even his penis, big and long, with prominent veins, and a dark purple head.No, no, how can he be beautiful?What crime did I do that God wants me to marry him? "On my honor as a Lannister," said the imp, "I swear I will never touch you until you accept me willingly." She summoned up all her courage and looked into her husband's eyes of different sizes, "My lord, what if I say never?" His lips twitched as if she had slapped him. "Never?" Her neck was stiff, and she didn't even know whether she nodded or not. "So," he said, "so it is, that's why the gods made whores." He clenched his stubby fingers into fists and climbed off the bed.