How To Kill a Flower

Chapter 17

The next day everyone gathered in the throne room to celebrate the win of The Battle of Blackwater Bay.

Sansa and I were in the standing off to the side with the other handmaidens. 

The giant doors open to reveal Tywin Lannister on top of a white steed who appears to have just shit at the entryway. Riding his horse down the hall as Joffrey talks to the crowd.

"I, Joffrey of the House Baratheon, first of my name, the rightful King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, do hereby proclaim my grandfather, Tywin Lannister, the savior of the city and the Hand of the King."

A man walks up to Joffrey with a pillow where Joffrey places the Hand of the King's pin upon it before the man walks ip to Tywin. 

Taking the pin, "Thank you, Your Grace." He turns his horse leaving the hall.

Joffrey then calls out, "Lord Petyr Baelish, step forward." Ugh, he's back.

Baelish steps forward and bows to Joffrey, "For your good service and ingenuity in uniting the Houses of Lannister and Tyrell, I declare that you shall be granted the castle of Harrenhal with all its attendant lands and incomes to be held by your sons and grandsons from this day until the end of time." Joffrey rewards Littlefinger. 

"You honor me beyond words, Your Grace. I shall have to acquire some sons and grandsons." Baelish said, making the crowd laugh. I rolled my eyes.

Continuing to speak, Joffrey calls forward, "Ser Loras Tyrell."

Loras steps forward, kneeling before Joffrey, "Your house has come to our aid. The whole realm is in your debt, none more so than I. If your family would ask anything of me, ask it, and it shall be yours." Joffrey says.

Still kneeling, Loras clears his throat, "Your Grace, my sister Margaery, her husband was taken from us before, Joffrey leans forward, intrigued, "she remains innocent. I would ask you to find it in your heart to do us the great honor of joining our houses." Margraery looks down, trying to seem submissive. 

"Is this what you want, Lady Margaery?" Joffrey addresses Margaery. 

Sansa and I glanced at each other. This could be the moment Sansa is free from marrying the King. We look back to see Cersei also looking in our direction. 

Margaery steps forward, "With all my heart, Your Grace. I have come to love you from afar. Tales of your courage and wisdom have never been far from my ears. And those tales have taken root deep inside of me." She sure knows how to stroke Joffrey's ego. 

Please with her words Joffrey replies, "I, too, have heard tales of your beauty and grace, but the tales do not do you justice, my lady. It would be an honor to return your love, but I am promised to another." He leans back in his throne, "A king must keep his word."

Cersei shuffled in her seat before speaking to her son, "Your Grace, in the judgment of your Small Council, it would be neither proper nor wise for you to wed the daughter of a man beheaded for treason, a girl whose brother is in open rebellion against the throne as we speak. For the good of the realm, your councilors beg you," She looks over at us as she speaks, "to set Sansa Stark aside."

The crowd starts murmuring before they call out, "Margaery! We want Margaery!"

Joffrey stands and quiets the crowd with his hand then turns to his mother, "I would like to heed your wishes," Margaery looks up to the stands at us, both Sansa and I emotionless, "and the wishes of my people, but I took a holy vow."

Pycelle the old goat, steps forward from the crowd, "Your Grace, the gods do indeed hold betrothal solemn, but your father," Joffrey walks forward to listen to the maester, "blessed be his memory, made this pact before the Starks revealed their falseness." The crowd once again breaking out in whispers, "I have consulted with the High Septon and he assures me that their crimes against the realm free you from any promise you have made to them," Cersei again looks over at us, smirking,  "in the sight of the gods."