The Mountain of Ice and Fire

“Mountain, call back Red Smoke Beast,” Joffrey commanded.

“As you command, Your Grace, but I fear it might frighten the horses of Your Grace and the Hand.”

Joffrey hesitated, the terrifying scene from before still fresh in his mind: "…Call it back…but it mustn’t frighten…the horses."

“Your Grace, the Red Smoke Beast is a fierce creature. I can only ensure it doesn't attack people or horses. Warhorses are terrified of the Red Smoke, there’s nothing I can do about that.”

Joffrey hesitated. Just now his warhorse had nearly thrown him, and the Red Smoke Beast was still quite far away.

“Your Grace,” Hand Tywin said, “the Red Smoke Beast is ferocious, it kills people, it is averse to living beings. Let the Mountain tame it properly first, remove its wildness, and then let Your Grace observe it. There are many courtiers here. If the Red Smoke Beast suddenly appears, our warhorses, seeing it for the first time, will be startled and frightened, dodging and fleeing, which will inevitably cause chaos. If Your Grace or the courtiers are injured, everyone will be terrified.”

Joffrey glanced at his grandfather. His grandfather was expressionless, and though he spoke of being terrified, he didn't seem the least bit frightened.

Littlefinger Petyr Baelish smiled: “Your Grace, the Red Smoke Beast is a magical creature. It recognizes the Mountain as its master and won’t escape again. After the morning exercise, have the Mountain bring the Red Smoke Beast to the Red Keep's training grounds. Your Grace can observe it from afar or up close, letting the Red Smoke become familiar with Your Grace's scent, and then gradually approach it for riding.”

“Good, let’s do that!” Joffrey announced. “Mountain, after the morning exercise, bring Red Smoke into the Red Keep's training grounds. I want to try riding it.”

“As you command, Your Grace. But the Red Smoke Beast is a fierce creature and might injure Your Grace. Please make thorough safety preparations.”

“With you here, what danger could there be?”

“Your Grace, although I have tamed the Red Smoke Beast, it is still a wild animal and doesn’t understand court etiquette.”

“You’re responsible for teaching it. That’s decided!” Joffrey declared decisively.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

*

In Maegor's Holdfast, Margaery Tyrell was choosing clothes for Sansa.

Margaery was as beautiful as a lightly blooming red rose, while Sansa was a slightly melancholic white lotus.

The two beauties each had their own kind of beauty, like flowers in a garden, each one vibrant and moving, difficult to compare.

Before the two beauties were more than a dozen wicker trunks emitting a delicate fragrance, all filled with very high-end clothes of various styles.

These clothes were wedding gifts from the Tyrell family to Sansa.

On the long table in the room were also placed all kinds of exquisite gemstone ornaments, needlework, and perfumes. All gifts from Margaery Tyrell.

Sansa would marry Tyrion Lannister, the Imp, in ten days. A month later, Joffrey and Margaery would marry.

Sansa was thirteen years old, Margaery sixteen.

Sansa was even taller than Margaery, with a longer neck and a more graceful figure. But Margaery's smile was sweeter, more enthusiastic, and her demeanor was full of aristocratic grace. Even more rare, she was considerate and kind-hearted. In just a few days of getting along, Sansa had come to regard Margaery as her best friend.

Around the two of them were seventeen or eighteen maids. Sansa had only two maids: Shae and her best friend Jeyne Poole; the remaining maids were all Margaery's.

The maids were all focused, some holding gowns, some holding pearl necklaces, some holding exquisite belts, some holding headdresses, some holding rouge… As soon as the two young ladies asked for something, it would be immediately available…

Sansa was seeing such well-trained maids for the first time… Margaery was always surrounded by fifteen or sixteen maids serving her… Each one was well-trained and considerate…

However, the smiling Sansa was not happy. She didn't love Tyrion Lannister. She thought she should hate him, hate all the Lannisters… But she found that she couldn't hate Tyrion Lannister. She felt he was a good man, and this feeling made her very uneasy. After Lord Tywin announced her wedding to Tyrion Lannister, she had hidden herself and cried many times in the silence of the night…

Under Margaery's enthusiastic arrangements, Sansa had already tried on seven different styles of wedding dresses, but in the fragrant wicker trunks, there were at least thirty more different beautiful dresses.

Sansa didn't want to try on any more. This wasn't the marriage she wanted. She didn't hate Tyrion Lannister, but she didn't love him either. She was very clear about this in her heart. If she could choose, she would just want everyone in the room to leave, and then let her cry out loud, instead of hiding in the dark to weep bitterly.

No amount of exquisite wedding dresses, jewelry, rouge, and perfume could fill the endless sadness in Sansa's heart…

She wanted to kneel in the sunlight, in the morning, in the godswood—and weep! She hoped the gods would have mercy and hear her prayers. She hoped the gods would extend a helping hand and help her leave. As long as she could leave, she was willing to pay… the price…

Sansa was trying on wedding dresses on the verge of suffocation and collapse, her complexion getting worse and worse, causing Shae and Jeyne to worry secretly. The two maids knew Sansa's thoughts. She would never marry Tyrion Lannister. The Imp's image—was too far from the heroic knight in Sansa's heart…

Footsteps sounded outside the door, and Queen Mother Cersei walked in, followed by several of her maids.

Margaery and Sansa quickly curtsied. The maids all bowed their heads, their eyes fixed straight ahead.

Cersei looked at Sansa, condescending, with indifferent eyes: “You’re very beautiful, Miss Sansa. This dress suits you very well.”

“Thank you for your praise, Your Grace.”

“Miss Margaery Tyrell, I have a very urgent matter to ask for your help!”

“Your Grace, you’re too kind. What do you need me to do? Please, just tell me.”

“The Mountain brought back some kind of Red Smoke Beast from the barbaric lands of Crackclaw Point. It's very ferocious, and even well-trained warhorses are very afraid of it, afraid to approach the beast. Joffrey found out and is determined to ride the Red Smoke Beast. Go help me persuade him. That beast is not so easy to tame. The maester said that once the Red Smoke Beast recognizes its master, anyone who approaches it or tries to ride it will be killed by it.”

“Let him ride it. Gods have mercy, let Joffrey ride the Red Smoke Beast,” Sansa prayed in her heart.

“Heavens!” Margaery Tyrell reached out and covered her small red lips, her face paling. “Where is His Grace?”

“In the Red Keep's training grounds, waiting for the Mountain to bring the Red Smoke Beast over. I've already tried to persuade him, the master of coin, the captain of the Kingsguard, the maester, many of us have tried to persuade him, but he won't listen. Now I need your help, Miss Margaery.”

“I'll go to the training grounds now, Your Grace.” Margaery hurriedly put down the accessories in her hand. Her large group of maids all put down what they were holding.

“Thank you, Miss Margaery.” Queen Mother Cersei's words chased after Margaery Tyrell and her large group of maids as they hurried away.

Queen Mother Cersei turned around and looked at the humble Sansa.

“Miss Sansa, I hope my good brother can give you a happy wedding night. Although he's a dwarf, with less than a third of a nose left on his face, and the arms and legs of a child, he's been sleeping with all kinds of prostitutes since he was a child…” She glanced at Sansa's two maids, who were looking at the ground with their heads lowered. “I'm very sorry, Miss Sansa, but what I'm saying is the truth. My brother is… the ugliest and most despicable fellow in all the Seven Kingdoms. Honestly, Sansa, if I were you, I'd rather marry a stable boy… a kennel keeper… a murderer or a coward.”

Sansa lowered her head, her shoulders trembling: “Yes, Your Grace.”

“Look at your beautiful face… You would have been my best daughter-in-law… an unparalleled queen… But alas, you have a cruel brother, a foolish father, and an arrogant mother. They started this war… But I'm still very grateful to you, grateful that you came to report to me the night before Eddard Stark sent you away… You're about to marry my most despicable and shameless dwarf brother. I don't have any wedding gifts to give you, so I'll give you a maid.”

“Give me a maid? An eye to monitor me,” Sansa thought scornfully. “Thank you, Your Grace, I'm very grateful!” Sansa quickly thanked her.

“You're welcome. If my dwarf brother bullies you after the wedding, don't be afraid, come and tell me, and I'll support you.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Gracie Taebessa!” Cersei called.

“Yes, Your Grace.” A maid stood out and bowed her head in response.

“From now on, you will be Miss Sansa's maid. Serve her well in everything, her diet, her daily life, her outings, her clothes, her manners. Everything must be served well and wholeheartedly.”

“As you command, Your Grace.”

Cersei looked at Sansa's two maids: “You, what's your name?”

“My name is Shae, Your Grace.” Shae immediately knelt down, lowered her head, and answered.

“Oh, I remember you. Lord Petyr recommended you to the palace.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“And you?”

“Your Grace, my name is Jeyne Poole.” Jeyne quickly knelt down, looking at the ground with her head lowered, respectful, her small shoulders trembling slightly.

“Jeyne, I remember you too. You're Sansa's friend from childhood. Are you doing well?”

“I'm fine, Your Grace.”

“Oh, you two, from today onwards, you must listen to Gracie Taebessa's orders in everything. Whatever she tells you to do, you will do it, understand?”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Shae and Jeyne said in unison.

“Alright, you may rise.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

Shae and Jeyne got up, still with their heads lowered, not daring to look at Cersei.

“Your Grace, may I go to the Red Keep's training grounds?” Sansa hoped to see the Red Smoke Beast kill Joffrey with her own eyes. The scene must be very beautiful. “I'm very worried about His Grace's safety. His Grace should keep his distance from the Mountain and the Red Smoke Beast.”

“Ride the Red Smoke Beast, Joffrey, you are the wisest and most divine king.” Sansa prayed in her heart. “New and old gods, open your eyes. Please let the Stranger take him away; take away this brutal fellow, or let the White Walkers capture him.”

“Sansa, you're a very pure child, but unfortunately, the world is too filthy to accommodate purity. Thank you for your kindness. You should try on wedding dresses and gowns first. Joffrey is now fond of Margaery Tyrell. Even if you go, you won't be able to persuade him.”

“Yes, Your Grace. Although His Grace no longer loves me, I still beg you, please tell him that I'm very worried about him. I hope he can listen to Miss Margaery Tyrell's words and not touch the Red Smoke Beast. I will pray for him!”

“I will convey your worries to Joffrey, Sansa. I assure you of that.” Cersei's tone was gentle, and the coldness in her eyes slowly faded, turning into pity. “Sansa, I wish you a happy wedding.”

“Thank you, Your Grace!”

*

Gracie Taebessa was helping Sansa try on another complicated gown.

“Miss, your complexion is very bad.”

“It's nothing. I'm worried about His Grace's safety.”

“No, Miss, are you sick?” Gracie Taebessa stopped what she was doing.

Sansa just wanted to collapse on the ground and cry, and then fall into a deep sleep, forgetting everything: “No, I'm fine. Come on, Gracie, try another headdress.” Sansa smiled, trying to maintain a ladylike posture, but suddenly swayed. Shae and Jeyne quickly supported her.

“Miss, don't force yourself. You need to rest.” Gracie Taebessa said seriously. “Shae, Jeyne, please go out for a moment.”

“Yes.” Shae and Jeyne were reluctant, but they didn't dare to disobey. They put down what they were holding, lowered their heads, and quickly retreated.

Sansa suppressed her anger and shame. A small maid dared to chase away her maids. She was the mistress, but she smiled, displaying ladylike etiquette: “Thank you, Gracie Taebessa.”

“Miss, please let me help you sit down.”

Sansa nodded.

Gracie Taebessa helped Sansa sit down. Sunlight shone in from the narrow window, falling on the right side of Sansa's face. Sansa suddenly felt like crying.

“Miss, if you want to cry, just cry. There's no one else here.” Gracie Taebessa said softly. She reached out her arms and hugged Sansa, gently patting her back. “Cry, Sansa, cry. Otherwise, you'll get very sick.”

The gentle words and considerate touch reminded Sansa of her governess, Septa Mordane, and her mother, Lady Catelyn Tully. Tears could no longer be held back and burst forth.

Tears flowed freely down Sansa's face, without a sound.

Gracie Taebessa held Sansa with one arm, reached out with the other, grabbed a pillow, and handed it to Sansa.

“We can't let anyone else hear you crying. Someone will report it to Her Grace. It might not be good for you. Take the pillow and cry out loud!” Gracie Taebessa said softly.

Sansa gratefully took the pillow, buried her face in it, and cried loudly.

“Cry, Sansa!” Gracie Taebessa's voice was also tearful, her eyes reddened, and tears were swirling in her eyes.

After who knows how long, the door opened, and Shae and Annie stood at the door, their gazes cautious and scrutinizing as they looked at Gracie Taebessa.

“Come in. Miss Sansa is asleep. She's too tired. She needs to rest,” Gracie Taebessa said.

Shae and Jeyne came in. Sansa was indeed asleep in bed. Her expression was very peaceful, but there were traces of tears on her face.

Gracey Tabitha looked out the door. Although she had entered, the guards arranged by Queen Cersei in the corridor had not been withdrawn. Gracey Tabitha took a deep breath and said softly, "Miss Sansa said you are her most trusted friends. So, can I trust you?"

Shae and Jenny looked wary, like two little cats full of vigilance.

Thanks to [Lonely 丿 Flash Star] [Chau534] for the reward and support, thank you, handshake!