Book Three: Chapter 9

The baby in her arms is warm and heavy, a little sleeping bundle with dark curly hair and lashes as delicate as a butterfly’s wing. Having never been around many young children as a child, Sakura is surprised to find that little Benam has changed even in the few weeks since she last saw him. His features are more pronounced, his hair thicker and he is definitely bigger than he was. She gazes down at him in the candlelight, utterly entranced. Daehwi’s new wife Maya had told her that he would likely sleep through the night, but she can’t help but hope she is wrong. She would love to see his little eyes blink open, his little mouth stretch in a contented yawn.

The knock that comes to the door startles her, though the babe in her arms doesn’t stir. She calls a quiet entry and watches as Hyewon escorts Wells into her quarters. The captain’s gaze lingers on the baby, but Sakura has no eyes for anyone but Wells. He stops just steps from the door, his wide eyes flickering from her face to Benam’s sleeping form.

“Sakura, what-”

“Wells wait,” She cannot help herself, reaching out to stop him and jostling the baby by accident. He squirms and lets out a tiny wail, his eyes still closed, and she hushes him quietly, rocking him back and forth in her arms.

“Is that…” Wells is still frozen in place, as if vines have grown from the floor and affixed him in place. She watches him, watches the way his eyes cannot seem to stray from the bundle in her arms.

“I thought you should meet your son, Wells.”

His gaze finally finds hers, but to her surprise it is filled with rage. He snaps, furiously, his voice low and mindful of the child but no less angry for it. “What were you thinking Sakura? We agreed that he would be safer away from here?”

“We did,” She admits finally, shame spilling through her like water over the banks of a river. “But I needed you to meet him Wells, if only once, before you made your decision.”

Wells eyes meet hers and they are filled with a familiar anguish, one that will not seem to leave the Baratheon heir. If she had doubted his feelings for Ivy before, if she had wondered whether the Flea Bottom girl was just a product of too much wine and a thoughtless , she knows now that she was wrong. Her friend has been withdrawn and filled with despair ever since Sakura told him of Ivy’s death, and there is a shadow to his eyes that she feels far too keenly.

Slowly, Wells takes a step in her direction. His hands are shaking, she realises, but he edges closer to her regardless. She watches with baited breath as he approaches and when he is close enough to see the baby, she tilts her arms to give him a better view.

“His name is Benam,” She tells him softly, “Benam Baratheon. Your son.”

“Benam,” Wells echoes, quietly and Sakura pulls in a shaking breath.

“Don’t you see,” She entreats him quietly, “If you give up your right to the throne you are giving up on Benam, don’t you want to see him take his rightful place at your side?”

Wells lets out a shaking breath and when he raises his gaze to Sakura again she is startled to see that his eyes are glassy with unshed tears.

He voice shakes. “I know that you see only me when you look at him, but I see Ivy as well. I can’t- I couldn’t bear to watch him grow and see her in every part of him and know that I caused him to be a motherless child.” She opens to argue with him, but he seems to know what she is about to say because he cuts through her. “I cannot be king Sakura, I cannot- not after Ivy and my father and your father-” He shakes his head, his voice breaking and she soothes him quietly.

“I’m sorry, Wells, I didn’t mean to push you so hard. Benam will be well cared for with Maya and Daehwi, I will see to it that they have all they need to be comfortable and protect him.”

“No,” He shakes his head, his eyes dark and clouded. “I may be naïve,” He bites out a bitter laugh, “But I am not so foolish to think that you won’t need Benam when the time comes. He has the name Baratheon after all.”

“Wells,” Her stomach sinks at the sound of his voice, so twisted with grief.

“You are not pregnant Sakura, despite the rumours floating around the castle. You will need an heir within the next few months or your claim to the throne will be disputed.” His gaze settles on Benam again. “Especially one with the name Baratheon.”

“Speak clearly Wells,” She demands, frowning over Benam’s body, which is heavy with sleep.

“I will renounce my claim to the throne,” Wells tells her firmly, “And pronounce Benam my true born heir – I’m sure we can offer some country Septon enough gold to say he married Ivy and I- and you can take him as your ward.”

“But Wells, he is your son, your name, your House.” Sakura insists, as Wells turns to make his way to the door.

His hand on the frame he pauses and when he looks back at her it is as if all of her ghosts are reflected in his eyes. “I have no House anymore.”

—-

Her mother is at least kind enough to send a messenger on ahead, giving Sakura a few hours to prepare for her arrival. The castle is aflutter with the news of her coming, but nerves churn in Sakura’s gut as she stands upon the steps, surrounded by her advisors and waiting for her mother’s carriage to pass through the imposing gates of the Red Keep. She hadn’t been lying when she told Lord Marcus that she was filled with trepidation at the thought of seeing her mother again. Something has settled in her stomach at the thought of her mother, flowering up through her chest and spreading its leaves through her ribs, a queasiness, a fear of the look that her mother will level her with when she steps out of her carriage. 

The horns blow and she pulls in a shaking breath, standing straighter. The weight of the circlet on her head feels immense, pressing down through her skin and bone. Her mother’s attendants appear and the weight in her chest eases at the sight of her House sigil on the banners and uniforms. Her marriage, short and illegitimate as it may have been, have made her a Swann forever, and it is Kimm’s banners that are strung through the castle. The sight of her own golden rose on a green field almost brings tears to her eyes. 

The procession of knights and squires and horses come to a stop and her mother’s carriage arrives before the steps. A footman hurries out to open the door and offer his hand, and Sakura lifts her chin as her mother steps out of the carriage. Her dark hair is slung back into a neat twist, and Sakura is unsurprised to see that she still wears a black veil of her dark blue dress. While never a woman for the trappings of noble life, her mother’s appearance is even more bleak than usual, her face wan and pale as she turns to look up at the imposing castle. The smile that passes across her lips when she sees Sakura is so bright, however, that it makes everything else fade into the background. 

Before she knows it, Sakura is descending the few steps to the courtyard, holding out her hands, and Yoona takes them between her own, pressing them together. Her mother’s eyes are just as they have always been, and Sakura feels emotion rise so strongly in that she is worried she will cry before all of court. 

“Sakura,” Her mother squeezes her fingers, her voice thick with emotion. “My daughter.”

“Mother,” Sakura’s voice cracks, but it is pitched low enough that only Yoona can hear. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Yoona’s eyes dart over the castle and there is a shadow to them that pokes at Sakura’s heart ache. Still, she lies. “So am I.”

“Please, come inside. You must be tired after your journey.” It is immensely strange to realise that this is the first time she is welcoming her mother into her own home. The Red Keep does not feel like a home in the slightest, it is only just beginning to feel like a place she can stand to be rather than a place drenched in nightmares. 

Her mother accepts her invitation, following her up the steps. She glances at Eunbi, and her brows furrow even as she gives a respectful bow of her head, but when she spots Lord Marcus beside her all animosity fades from her expression. She holds out her hand and Marcus takes it gratefully, clasping it in both of his. Lady Tyrell’s voice is deep with sincerity when she says. 

“Marcus, how good to see you here.”

“And to have you here, Abby,” He answers, earnestly, and they exchange a glance that Sakura cannot quite decipher before her mother turns back to the steps into the castle. She has her servants and handmaidens take her things to her chambers, and immediately lets Sakura lead her to the queen’s rooms. The moment the door shuts behind them, Hyewon and Roan loyally posted on either side of it, her mother looks at her and opens up her arms. 

Sakura allows herself to sink into them, and though there is something strange to the action which seems to set it in offset from the world around them, she is glad to rest her head against her mother’s shoulder and let familiar arms hold her, if only for a moment. Eventually, she pulls herself away, trying to ignore her mother’s yearning gaze and reaching hands. 

“How was your journey?” She asks at last, when she can think of nothing more to say, and her mother’s shrewd eyes flicker over her, seeing every doubt and uncertainty, and it is this which makes her turn quickly and pull her crown from her head, setting it on the wide table near the window. 

“Fine enough,” Her mother’s gaze is so heavy it feels like a cloak around her shoulders. “I’m glad to find you well here… better than well I suppose. You are queen.”

“Mother,” Her voice is terse and short, “Please, spare me your judgement, I did what I had to.”

“I know,” Yoona’s voice is less angry than she expected, and when she chances a glance at her she sees sadness in her eyes as her mother sinks into an armchair by the fire. “You have done more than I ever expected from you.”

“So…” She falters, her anger stuttering. “You aren’t angry with me?” 

“I was not best pleased when you didn’t return to me in the Eyrie as instructed, make no mistake,” The look Yoona fixes her with is intensely reminiscent of her childhood, when she had been caught stealing buns from the kitchen, or sneaking around with the handsome stable boy. “But what could I expect, you are your father’s daughter after all.”

“And my mother’s,” She settles into the chair beside her mother. “Lord Marcus says you went looking for trouble when you were young.”

Yoona scoffs, pursing her lips in annoyance. “Marcus says things he should not. That was a long time ago, when I was just a girl.”

“Before you met father,” Sakura says, quietly, and her mother nods. 

“He made a woman out of me,” Yoona says quite simply, and her eyes settle on Sakura, soft with apology now. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for your wedding.”

“It wasn’t safe,” She disputes, instantly. “Not as it is now.”

“Lord Kimm was always a nice boy,” Her mother’s eyes dart over her curiously, “Did he… make a woman of you.”

Her cheeks heat at the words, despite all that has happened. “Not in the way you would think,” She says at last, “I am older than I was, but you will have no grandchildren despite what they are saying in court.”

“I hear that you only got the Baratheon lords to agree to crown you on the understanding that you would give them a Baratheon heir.”

“And I still will,” Sakura answers quietly, “But not in the way that they expect.”

—-

Sakura announces Pike’s imprisonment the day after her lady mother returns to the capital. She sends Eunbi a note that morning to tell her of her announcement, and Eunbi stalks about her rooms like a trapped animal when she reads it. Fear has settled deeply in her heart and despite herself, there is a large part of her that wishes she had let Chaewon kill Pike the moment that they threw him in a black cell. This moment is crucial for Sakura in the story of her reign, more crucial even than the first time she stepped before the people after Kimm’s death. If the lords and ladies, even the smallfolk of the southern kingdoms do not accept what she tells them of Lord Pike, she will surely be overthrown in days and cast down as a traitor. Eunbi has her horses readied, hoping vainly that she will be able to steal the southern queen away should anything go awry, but there is little more she can do than troop down to the Great Hall with the rest of the nobles in Kings Landing when the sun has reached its highest point in the sky. 

She finds Sakura upon her throne, that appalling iron monstrosity, and around her stand her privy council. She is resplendent as always in a dark blue dress, her crown heavy upon her head and a girdle so wide it appears like plated armour around her waist. She gives Eunbi the barest of nods as she enters, but otherwise watches on in silence as her nobles fill the hall, murmuring and whispering amongst themselves. 

“My lords and ladies,” She says finally, and a hush falls over them all as they watch on with bated breath to see why they have been summoned. “It is with a heavy heart that I call you all here today. A grievous crime has been committed against our crown and kingdom which I cannot allow to go unpunished.” A wave of gasped breaths come from the hall as people exchange unsure glances. “It is my sad duty to inform you all that Lord Pike of House Lannister has been arrested by the crown.” A louder gasp and affronted cries accompany her statement, but Sakura ignores them all, waving to an attendant. 

Lord Pike has been cleaned up for his appearance in front of the court. He is dressed in a plain but fresh doublet and jacket and scrubbed of the worst of the smell of death that lingers in the black cells. He is noticably thinner and there is a sickly pallor to his face, but otherwise he appears unchanged as he steps out before the crowd, a look of defiant smugness on his face. 

“I bring Lord Pike here today to announce to him and you that he is accused of regicide and muder, and plotting against this kingdom to see it thrown into war once again.” The voices of dissent grow louder, but Sakura does not hesitate, only raising her own voice above the hubbub. “Tomorrow at dawn his trial will begin, let any man who would speak for or against Lord Pike come before me and the rest of this land to make their case heard.”

“May I speak, your majesty?” There is something to the way that he speaks, a smooth confidence to his voice that sits beneath Eunbi’s skin and eats away at her. 

“No, my lord, you may not.” Sakura answers him sharply. “Save your lies for the morrow, you will need them then.”

---

She retires to her chambers, Lord Marcus and Lord Robert falling into step behind her. Once inside, Nako hurries forwards to take her crown from her head, settling it carefully in a chest, and she rotates her neck once, easing it of stiffness. Then she settles her eyes on the two lords of her privy council. 

“You are re