Amidst cheers, the white and black horses passed each other, and the white and colorful lances exploded into fragments.
Ser Horas swayed on his horse, while Ser Meryn sat steadily. They each turned their horses at the end of the arena, discarded their broken lances, and received new ones from their squires.
With a sharp kick of their spurs, Ser Meryn and Ser Horas engaged again.
Bang!
This time, Ser Meryn suddenly shifted the tip of his lance, thrusting it directly into Ser Horas's chest, sending him flying off his horse and crashing heavily to the ground.
The spectators in the stands cheered for Ser Meryn, but King Joffrey on the high platform said disdainfully, "What a terrible fight."
Greene smiled, saying nothing, merely gesturing to an attendant standing in the distance, indicating for them to pour wine.
Ooh—ooh ooh ooh—
"Kingsguard, Ser Balon Swann of Stonehelm!"
[The Swanns of Stonehelm are one of the main houses of the Stormlands; their castle controls the land in eastern Dorne, from Red Watch to Cape Wrath.]
Ser Balon rode a bay warhorse, his helmet adorned with a pair of wide white wings, and his shield depicted two black and white swans fighting.
"Morros of House Sterling!"
Greene, holding his wine glass, raised an eyebrow slightly. Wasn't this the son of Janos Sterling (Robert I's Commander of the Gold Cloaks, who died at the hands of Lord Eddard, Chapter 162)?
Morros Sterling was a newly appointed squire; when he entered the arena, he was still a bit unsteady even holding his lance and shield.
"Look at that ass!" Joffrey suddenly shrieked loudly, his voice so piercing that it could be heard across half the arena.
Morros had just become a squire, and coupled with his humble origins and his father's bad reputation, the spectators mocked him without restraint.
Greene's attention was not on the arena below at this moment.
He saw… that when Joffrey "scolded," Margaery looked at her King with her heart and eyes, and Greene's lips couldn't help but curve slightly.
He could feel Joffrey growing increasingly satisfied with his noble fiancée, a change that would not escape Cersei's eyes and ears. She would soon know.
Under the rules of the court game, Cersei was no match for Margaery, so after her defeat, the Lioness's "madness" would not be far off.
Greene raised his glass to Little Rose, silently wishing her victory in the "conventional" struggle.
Margaery blinked her deer-like eyes, pursed her lips in a smile, and elegantly picked up her wine glass, taking a small sip of the summer red within.
Joffrey suddenly pointed below and burst into laughter.
Ser Balon easily dispatched Morros, but when Morros fell from his horse, one foot became caught in the stirrup, and he was dragged to the end of the arena by the frantic warhorse, his head repeatedly hitting the ground along the way.
It had to be admitted that Morros was very strong; by the time the Gold Cloaks unhitched the horse, though he was covered in blood, he was still lively and jumping.
Joffrey couldn't stop laughing. He turned to his brother and said, "Tommen, we picked the wrong opponent for you. This fellow is worse than a scarecrow."
Tommen's little cheeks slowly puffed out, while Princess Myrcella comforted him softly.
In the next match, an old knight who looked impressive was easily unhorsed by Ser Horas of House Redwyne.
Joffrey pouted, "That's truly awful."
Hound's voice sounded, "If you're bored, you can have them do something else. These delicate flower knights are very suitable for dancing, My King."
A low chuckle rippled through the crowd, and Greene also laughed, tilting his head back.
Hearing Hound's advice, Joffrey cackled, "Shut up, watching dancing is truly boring."
Then, he looked eagerly at the jousting arena, which made Greene unable to resist glancing at Sandor, who stood expressionlessly, and Margaery beside him also did the same.
Feeling Greene and Margaery's gazes, Sandor spoke, "I am not a delicate flower."
After a pause, he added, "I will not dance for you."
"Actually, I was looking forward to it."
Greene shrugged, and Margaery's lips curved slightly. They turned their attention back to the jousting arena.
...
"Ser Anguy of Crab Claw Point (Chapter 274)!"
Anguy, in silver armor and blue robes, appeared on the west side of the jousting arena. After stopping his horse, he bowed from a distance towards the high platform where Greene was seated.
"Ser Dontos of House Hollard!"
After a pause, the announcer repeated, "Ser Dontos of House Hollard!"
After the third call, a chestnut steed finally galloped into the arena, its bright red silk barding fluttering in the wind, but there was no rider in the saddle.
After another moment, Ser Dontos finally arrived, stumbling. He cursed as he chased his horse. Aside from his breastplate and feathered helmet… he had nothing on, not even a strip of cloth, and his privates swayed back and forth as he ran.
Amidst the jeers of the spectators, Ser Dontos grabbed the reins, trying to climb onto the horse's back, but the horse refused to stand still, and he was clearly too drunk and muddled, his bare feet unable to find the stirrups.
The spectators in the stands were already laughing uproariously.
On the high platform, Greene's brown eyes flickered. He noticed King Joffrey's anger surging.
Finally, Ser Dontos decided to give up. He sat heavily in the mud, took off his feathered helmet, and tossed it aside.
He shouted towards the high platform, "I yield! Give me some wine!"
No sooner had he spoken than Joffrey suddenly stood up and said, "Hound, have someone bring a barrel of wine."
His face twisted, "I want to see this fool drown in it!"
Margaery then said softly, "My King, today is not suitable…"
Joffrey turned his head to Margaery, interrupting, "Are you pleading for mercy for that fool, my fiancée?"
Facing Joffrey's baseless accusation, Margaery's finger slightly flexed. Her expression remained unchanged, and her tone was still gentle: "He and I are strangers. My King, I meant to say, perhaps you could deal with this at another time, because today… the entire Seven Kingdoms are celebrating for you."
Joffrey seemed to just realize that his "questioning" of his fiancée was slightly inappropriate.
He offered an unnatural smile, "Of course, I was just joking with you, my beautiful fiancée."
After sitting down again and taking one of Little Rose's hands, the smile on his face became more natural: "Miss Margaery, I have long heard of your good deeds in the Riverlands. Today is indeed not suitable for bloodshed. Thank you for your advice."
"It is my great honor to receive your praise."
Margaery's small face held a sweet smile. At this moment… though she showed no outward sign, she felt a nameless fear towards Joffrey in her heart.
Greene's voice sounded, "King Joffrey, I think this drunken knight has great potential as a jester. Perhaps he just lacks a clown costume."
He smiled slightly at Margaery: "What do you think of my suggestion, Miss Rose?"
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