Book Three: Chapter 3

Preparations for the king’s tourney send the castle into a complete frenzy. A tourney is no small thing to organise, and the people of the Red keep take to it with the keen energy and enthusiasm that Kimm’s new reign seems to bring about in everyone. Sakura has barely a moment to give it any attention, utterly consumed with her worries for Ivy and Benam, trying to decide where to send the small family and whose care to entrust them to. Daehwi and Jisung are set to the task of finding Lord Bolton’s lodgings in the maze of the city and Hyewon’s connection to her brother is too crucial to lose now, besides the soldier utterly refuses to leave her side. Raven had agreed to do it, but Sakura privately fears for her lack of training and besides there is still the issue of where to hide mother and son. The moment the Lannisters realise they’re gone she is sure that Pike will stop at nothing to track them down. Just the thought of it makes her heart grow cold.

But in the moments that she does understand Kimm’s enthusiastic words about the tourney, she berates him so firmly that he is startled into silence.

“This is a ridiculous expense,” She tells him briskly, as their dinner plates are collected and she stands to brush at her skirts. “The kingdom is starving and you are throwing a grand tourney! It’s unthinkable!”

“But I have given the city food, the people are happy! Lord Pike says the people are still celebrating the coronation!”

She bristles at the name, her lips curling despite herself. “Lord Pike knows nothing about the people,” She snaps, too angry to maintain her genteel demeanor, and marches from the room before he can stop her.

Kimm puts her unladylike outburst down to wedding nerves and the tourney preparations continue without a hitch. The stables are filled to bursting with fine horses for the knights and squires who will be competing in the tourney, and in the fields outside the city walls tents and stands are erected for those who are attending and competing. Everything is brightly coloured and covered in trailing flowers, and the shining sun does not match Sakura’s black mood as she allows Nako to lace her into a dress of soft blue Dornish silk, all draping fabric and gentle lines which fall across her curves in a tempting sort of way. Something about it is even more revealing than the tighter dresses with more layers, and she is glad the weather is warm as her arms and back are bare.

They are joined by some of Kimm’s Kingsguards as they walk down the corridors towards the courtyard, and Sakura is utterly consumed by her thoughts and worries, folding her hands before her and asking, abruptly.

“Have you seen the queen in the north since she arrived?” At Hyewon’s startled expression she presses, “Have you spoken?”

Hyewon considers her words, before answering with deliberate neutrality. “I have, she requested to see me when she first arrived.”

“She did?” Sakura’s heart stutters, though she wishes it wouldn’t. “What did she say?” She fixes Hyewon with a hard, searching gaze and the guard’s jaw tightens, as if she wishes this conversation was not happening.

“Only to thank me for the work I’ve done,” Hyewon hesitates, clearly agonising and Sakura’s stomach sinks when she continues, “And to offer me a place in her Queensguard.”

“She- she-” Sakura stutters over her fury, “She had no right!”

“She had every right,” Hyewon insists, fiercely, though she keeps her voice low, more mindful of their companions than her counterpart. “She is my queen.”

“But you can’t go! We-” Sakura just cuts herself off in time, pausing to pull in a breath. Her nerves feel spread thin, close to breaking point. “I need you.” She settles on, at last.

“I know, I won’t abandon you here.” Hyewon assures her, her expression tight. They step out into the courtyard, to where the carriage is waiting and Hyewon opens the door and helps her inside. There, protected by the open door and the dark carriage she says, more earnestly. “But I can’t just ignore my queen.”

The carriage door shuts and Sakura is left in semi darkness, mulling over what Hyewon had said and cursing Eunbi as violently as she knows how. She fumes quietly all the way to the tourney ground, though she gives a graceful smile when Hyewon and Kimm’s Kingsguard help her from the carriage and her to the tourney stands, which are already crowded with people.

Upon seeing her alight from her carriage, they erupt into cheers and applause and she forces a smile onto her face. These people are the reason she is here, that she is doing all that she is. The ring on her finger, her looming engagement, the pain that settles in her heart is all to protect the people in this kingdom, and she pulls in a deep breath as she takes her place in one of the high backed, flower strewn chairs laid out for her and Kimm in the centre of the rest of the nobles. She raises her hand in a wave, and then settles into the right hand chair. Kimm beams at her, clearly already partaking in the mead and fine wines held in silver decanters by the waiting attendants, and she gives a smile in response. To her utter displeasure, Lord Pike is placed on Kimm’s other side, and he leans forwards and greets her with a cordial coldness.

“Lady Sakura, looking as lovely as always.”

“Lord Pike,” She nods in his direction once, her face a tight mask of neutrality. In her peripheral she sees Hyewon’s hand tighten over the hilt of her sword, her expression twisting into a scowl and she wishes that she had the freedom to show her feelings so clearly. Instead, all she can do is turn away from the man and scan the crowd, and her heart stutters when her eyes fall upon Eunbi’s approaching figure.

The queen is dressed in fine, dark jerkins and leather, with a direwolf pin at her . Her hair is pulled back in intricate braids and pinned away from her face, and a silver circlet sits upon her head. She is accompanied by her Queensguard, their fine white cloaks bright under the summer sun, and several of her wolves lope at her feet, their dark eyes watching the crowds with suspicion and curiosity. Faith’s light coat catches her eye, and she feels a stirring of longing so intense she has to turn her eyes away.

Her heart both swoops with delight and clenches with dismay to see Eunbi settle herself, surrounded by her Queensguard, into a seat nearby. Kimm leans around Sakura to herald her, his teeth showing in his smile.

“Queen Eunbi! Wonderful to see you!”

Eunbi gives a polite smile in return. “An excellent day for it, King Kimm.”

“Is it not?” He spreads his arms wide and Sakura has to bite back a laugh when the goblet holding his wine runs over to stain Lord Pike’s doublet. Kimm barely seems to notice, pushing himself to his feet.

Behind them attendants blow horns for silence, and the rowdy crowd calms to a quiet mutter and murmur of curious voices. Kimm raises his goblet in a toast to them all and calls, his voice booming.

“Lords and ladies, people of Kings Landing, welcome!” He smiles out at them, and they let out a rousing, drunken cheer of approval. “A special welcome to her majesty, Queen Eunbi Stark,” He bows his head in Eunbi’s direction and Sakura thinks that she sees surprise flash over Eunbi’s expression before it settles into a mask of neutrality and she nods. “This tourney is held to celebrate my marriage, to the beautiful Lady Sakura!” He turns to look at her, and she feels her cheeks colour. Despite his drunken state, there is sincere affection in his expression, and she feels a flicker of guilt. “Today, she will be the queen of our tourney.” He gestures forward an attendant and the girl runs up to hand over a lush flower crown, with luxurious white roses and baby’s breath bubbling from between the leaves.

Kimm’s voice drops softly, and he asks. “May I, my lady?”

There is nothing she can do but incline her head. As he places the crown onto her head, she can feel the gazes of the crowd upon her and, burning into her skin like a brand, Eunbi’s eyes. When Kimm steps away, the watching townsfolk cheer loudly and the smile that slips across her lips is not false.

“We await your command to begin our tourney, my queen.” Kimm is beaming, clearly satisfied with his display, and Sakura stands gracefully.

“Let the tourney begin!”

---

Tourneys have never been of much interest to Sakura. In Highgarden they have long been regarded as a high honour for the knights who participate, encapsulating the virtues of chivalry that knighthood swears to. The first tourney in Westeros was said to be held in Highgarden, and her house had long been known to hold the most luxurious tourneys in all of Westeros, but since she was a child Sakura has little understood the enjoyment of watching knights riding at full tilt towards one another. As a young lady it had frustrated her endlessly to see the knights who fawned over her with pretty words and fair smiles throwing themselves into needless danger. Even the sight of these men fighting for a favour from her was not enough to earn her goodwill. Now, sat beneath the hot midday hot as men she barely knows enter the lists and bow before her, she finds herself irritable and struggling to maintain her facade of enjoyment.

To distract herself, she calls for yet another goblet of wine and tries to ignore Hyewon’s disapproving glance. She has eaten little and the wine is settling in her stomach and making her lightheaded, only further adding to her foul mood. Kimm is offering excited commentary on the various knights who appear, and Sakura is only expected to nod and smile and clap politely after each list. Previously, she thinks bitterly, these knights would have been begging her for favours and flowers. Now that she sits beside Kimm, they offer her only a longing, revering bow, and turn their attention to more attainable maidens. She can’t bear to admit that it is only the attention of one that she wishes for, and will never have again.

Eunbi’s presence is like a hot needle against her skin, a constant irritation that she can’t shrug off. The northern queen watches the frivolity with a slight, polite smile, her wolves draped around her like a huge, deadly pets. This tourney is far more grandiose than the affair in Winterfell, and Sakura wishes dearly that she could show Eunbi the parts of the south that she would truly enjoy, rather than this gaudy nonsense.

She stands to stretch her legs, moving towards the trestle tables groaning under the weight of cheeses and figs, rhubarb pudding and sweet pork, and picks at the food laid out for her. Her head is spinning from the wine, and she reaches out to take hold of the table and steady herself, cringing as it rocks under her weight. A hand steadies it, and she turns to find Eunbi ruminating over the food choices, her expression a dark cloud.

“You should be more careful,” She says, seriously, and Sakura gazes up at her. Everything feels very foggy and far away, with the rest of the crowd focused on the tourney behind them, and she gives herself a moment to follow the lines of Eunbi’s severe face, drinking it in as she has not since Eunbi came to the south. “Lady Sakura?” Eunbi peers at her, about to open to speak again when Sakura cuts through her, her voice short and sharp.

“You know, it’s bad manners to steal other people’s guards behind their back.”

Eunbi’s expression flashes with surprised anger and then closes up instantly, turning her attention back to the trestle table as she says. “I didn’t steal anything that wasn’t already mine to take. Besides, Hyewon has her own will, she is welcome to come and go as she pleases.”

“In principle, yes,” Sakura snaps, stepping closer on the ruse of taking a piece of lemon cake so that she can hiss, “But do you really think she could ignore a command from her queen. ”

Eunbi hesitates guitily, and damn these northerners for wearing their hearts on their sleeves, it makes things too easy for a Tyrell who had been taught to see and exploit weakness from a young age. Eunbi recovers herself. “Just as easily as she could ignore a command to stay from one she was sworn to protect.”

“My lady,” They are interrupted by the voice and Sakura steps hurriedly away from Eunbi, unaware until that moment just how close their bodies had become in their argument. She turns to see Lady Fern, holding her boy’s hand in hers and smiling hesitantly. She drops a slight curtsey to Eunbi, “Your majesty.”

“Lady Fern,” Sakura struggles to compose herself, offering the little boy a smile. “Master Casper, how nice to see you both.”

“I hope you don’t mind, my lady, Casper just wanted to meet the queen of the tourney.”

The little boy is no more than four summers, but he manages to stand up straight and nod with certainty. He’s a plump, rosy cheeked little boy, with a shock of red hair, the sort of hardy child that so many mothers would wish for. His mother is handsome, and his father is tall and well built, so Sakura is sure that he will grow into a fine knight. Lady Fern gives her a warm, sincere smile, and Sakura stoops to speak to the child more easily.

“Do you like the knights, Casper?”

He nods so hard she fears his head will fall from his shoulders, his eyes wide and earnest.

“Do you want to be a knight when you’re older?” Sakura can’t help the smile that tugs relentlessly at her lips.

Casper nods again, and this time manages to say, breathlessly. “Yes.”

Sakura exchanges an amused smile with his mother and pushes herself to stand again, advising him seriously. “Then you shall have to work hard and be a good man and listen to everything your mother tells you, do you understand?”

He nods again, furiously, and Lady Fern dips a curtsey before they depart again and Sakura is left to return to her seat with a warm feeling in her stomach. Hyewon gives her a severe look, bending to murmur.

“Were you arguing with the queen?”

A stubborn pride and jealousy shoots through Sakura’s being and she replies, petulantly. “ I’m the queen of this tourney.”

Hyewon glares at her, clearly unamused. “You’re drunk,” She retorts, her voice low and Sakura feels her cheeks heat under her accusation.

“Ladies don’t get drunk.”

“Then you’re no lady.”

“Mind your tongue,” She reprimands her with no real heat, settling into her seat. Her brows furrow when she realises something is missing. “Where is the queen? And King Kimm?” She looks between their empty seats, her heart suddenly pounding. A terrible sense of dread settles around her when Hyewon shrugs, and she is forced instead to turn to where Lord Pike still sits, clearing to attract him attention. “My lord, where is the king?”

Lord Pike turns to her, adopting an expression of surprise and says, his voice high and innocent. “You didn’t know, my lady? The king is preparing to fight in the lists.”

“Fight?” She echoes, outraged, and the little smile of pleasure that flickers across his face makes her blood boil. “Who would dare to fight the king?”