Game of Thrones: I Created the Magic Web

Sorry, I thought it was just a common cold, but it's gotten worse these past two days, and I can't write much. Please bear with me. I'll make it up to you in the next few days. Thank you.

In the throne room, the tapestries that King Robert loved most in life had all been torn down and piled haphazardly in the corners, leaving the walls bare.

Ser Mandon Moore had gone to stand guard at the foot of the Iron Throne, along with his two brothers of the Kingsguard, so for the moment, no one was watching Sansa as she wandered near the doors. The Queen Regent had granted her the freedom of the castle as a reward for her good behavior. But even so, someone was always close by, no matter where she went. "These are honor guards for my future daughter-in-law," the Queen Regent called them, but Sansa felt anything but respected.

The so-called "freedom of the castle" meant she could move about the Red Keep as she pleased, as long as she promised not to go outside the walls. Sansa was happy to comply with this request. First, because Janos Slynt's gold cloaks or Lannister men-at-arms guarded the gates day and night, making it impossible for her to leave anyway; and second, even if she did leave the castle, where would she go? She was content to stroll in the square, pick a few flowers in Myrcella's garden, or visit the sept to pray for her father. Sometimes she would also pray in the godswood, because the Starks followed the old gods.

Today was Joffrey's first court session since his coronation, and Sansa was nervously looking around. A row of Lannister guards stood beneath the west windows, while the city watch, in their gold cloaks, stood beneath the east windows. She didn't see any commoners, and only a small group of nobles paced anxiously in the gallery. There were no more than twenty of them, whereas in King Robert's time, there were usually over a hundred attendees.

Sansa entered the gallery, murmuring greetings as she made her way to the front row. She recognized Jalabhar Xho, a gloomy Ser Alliser Thorne, and the Redwyne twins, Ser Horas and Ser Hobber… but they didn't seem to recognize her. Or perhaps they did, but avoided her as if she were the plague. The gaunt Lord Gyles covered his face and pretended to cough violently as she approached; and the tipsy and comical Ser Dontos was about to greet her when Ser Balon Swann whispered something in his ear, and he turned away.

So many, many others were gone. Where had everyone else gone? Sansa wondered. She searched in vain for friendly faces, but no one would look at her. She felt like a ghost, declared dead before her time.

Grand Maester Pycelle sat alone at the council table, his hands propped under his beard, looking as if he were asleep. Then she saw Lord Varys hurrying into the hall, walking without a sound. A moment later, Lord Baelish entered through the doors with a smile, chatting amiably with Ser Balon and Ser Dontos as he moved toward the front of the hall. Sansa's stomach twisted into knots, as if a swarm of butterflies were fluttering inside. I mustn't be afraid, she told herself. I have nothing to fear. Everything will be all right, because Joffrey loves me, and the Queen Regent loves me. She said so herself.

The herald's voice rang out: "Welcome, Joffrey of the House Baratheon and Lannister, First of His Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. Welcome, also, his mother, the Light of the West, Protector of the Realm, Queen Regent Cersei of the House Lannister."

Ser Barristan Selmy, in gleaming white armor, led them in, with Ser Arys Oakheart escorting the Queen Regent, and Ser Boros Blount walking beside Joffrey. All six members of the Kingsguard were present in the hall, a full complement of white knights, except for Jaime Lannister. Her Prince Charming—no, her king now!—climbed the steps to the Iron Throne three at a time, while his mother sat with the other high lords and ladies. Joffrey wore a black velvet doublet embroidered with red thread, a shimmering gold-threaded cloak with a high collar, and a golden crown set with rubies and black diamonds.

Joffrey turned to survey the hall, his eyes meeting Sansa's. He smiled, sat down slowly, and then spoke. "It is the duty of a king to punish traitors and reward the loyal. Grand Maester Pycelle, I command you to read my judgment."

Pycelle rose, resplendent in a heavy red velvet robe with a marten collar, bright gold clasps, and drooping sleeves covered in gilded whorls. He drew a roll of parchment from his sleeve, unfurled it, and began to read a long list of names, ordering them, in the name of the king and his council, to come to court immediately and swear fealty, or be branded traitors and have their lands and titles seized by the crown.

The names he read took Sansa's breath away: Lord Stannis Baratheon and his lady wife and daughter, Duke Renly, the Royce brothers and their sons, Ser Loras Tyrell, Lord Mace Tyrell and his brothers, uncles, and sons, Thoros of Myr, Lord Beric Dondarrion, Lady Lysa Arryn and her son, young Robert, Lord Hoster Tully and his brother, Ser Brynden, his son, Ser Edmure, Lord Jason Mallister, Lord Bryce Caron of the Marches, Lord Tytos Blackwood, Lord Walder Frey and his heir, Ser Stevron, Lord Karyl Vance, Lord Jonos Bracken, Lady Shella Harth, and Prince Doran Martell of Dorne and all his children. So many, she thought as Pycelle droned on. It would take a flock of ravens just to send out all those commands.

Finally, near the end, the names Sansa had dreaded appeared: Catelyn Stark, Robb Stark, Brandon Stark, Rickon Stark, Arya Stark. Sansa almost cried out. Arya? They wanted Arya to come to court and swear fealty… Then her sister must have escaped by ship and be safely back at Winterfell…

Grand Maester Pycelle rolled up the list, tucked it into his left sleeve, and drew another parchment from his right. He cleared his throat and continued: "In the place of the traitor Eddard Stark, by the will of His Grace, Lord Tywin Lannister, Duke of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West, is appointed Hand of the King, to govern in the king's name, lead his armies to crush rebels, and deliver his justice. So the king commands, and his council agrees."

"In the place of the traitor Stannis Baratheon, by the will of His Grace, the Queen Regent Cersei Lannister is appointed to his seat on the king's small council, to aid him in his governance with her ever-reliable support, and in his judgments with her wisdom and justice. So the king commands, and his council agrees."

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