The Demon of Winterfell

Chapter Nineteen: Those Below

Princess Myrcella was being sent away to Dorne for a marriage alliance. The entire royal family, along with the Kingsguard and the Stark sisters was in attendance. At the bank of the shore, a septon granted Myrcella safe travels. Myrcella smiled sadly at her family, crying and waving. Tommen was in tears. Emmelyne was almost sad to see the princess go. She'd become accustomed to Myrcella's unwavering kindness in this awful world. "One day I pray you love someone," Cersei said to Tyrion. "I pray you love her so much, when you close your eyes, you see her face. I want that for you. I want you to know what it's like to love someone, to truly love someone, before I take her from you."

Tyrion cast a glare at his elder sister, turning away and walking further away from her. Tommen sniffled, his head in his hands. His septa lowered, wiping away his tears. "You sound like a little cat mewling for his mother," Joffrey told his brother. "Princes don't cry."

"I saw you cry," Sansa said quietly.

Joffrey spun around to face her. "Did you say something, my lady?"

Sansa hesitated. "My little brother cried when Emmelyne and I left Winterfell."

"So?"

"It seems a normal thing."

"Is your little brother a prince?"

"No."

"Not really relevant, then, is it?"

He stepped away from the Stark sisters, walking off. "Come, dog," he told the Hound.

Emmelyne noticed the Hound wrinkle his nose at the boy king as he followed. Myrcella's boat faded away, and everyone began walking away. Emmelyne looked around at the Flea Bottom inhabitants. They eyed the nobles with hungry looks. "Hail, Joffrey!" someone shouted.

"Hail to the king."

Laughter chorused amongst a group of men. "Seven blessings on you, Your Grace," a man said to Joffrey as they passed.

"Murderer! Bastard!" another cried.

The people began to squabble amongst themselves, trying to decide if Joffrey was bastard or king. They all laughed a jeered. "Please, Your Grace, we're hungry," a man said.

This shout joined the crowd. Tyrion passed in the sight of the people now. "Freak!"

"Imp!"

Tyrion quickly turned to the septa with Tommen. "Get the prince back to the keep now," he commanded.

"Yes, my lord," a Lannister soldier agreed.

He began leading the septa and Tommen. A few people noticed Emmelyne. "Demon!" one cried.

"Whore!" another added.

Emmelyne self-consciously adjusted her low-cut dress. The shouts for food became deafening. The Kingsguard and Lannister soldiers had begun to line the road, trying to keep people away from the royal party. Suddenly, Emmelyne saw something brown fly through the sky. It hit Joffrey hard in the face, and the strong smell of cow shit filled the air. Joffrey stumbled on his feet. In seconds the knights and the Hound drew their swords. "Who threw that? I want the man who threw that," Joffrey stated.

Emmelyne, Sansa, and a group of handmaidens stumbled back as a City Watch man took a peasant to the ground. "Find the man who did that and bring him to me!" Joffrey roared.

"Hold them back!" someone shouted.

The peasants surged forward, slamming against the men like a tidal wave. "Just kill them! Kill them all!" Joffrey commanded.

The peasants had begun to fight back. Emmelyne took Sansa's arm tightly. "Be prepared to run. Don't separate from the group," she stated.

Sansa nodded furiously in response. "Move! Move!" Tyrion urged the knights escorting Cersei.