While Cersei and Jaime were coupling, in a room in Maegors Holdfast within Red Keep, Sansa Stark also stood by the window, gazing out toward the distant Blackwater Bay.
Ever since the day her father Eddard was beheaded, she had been kept here under house arrest by Cersei, with very few opportunities to go out. Cersei hadn't killed her, but she hadn't let her go either. Although she was still Joffrey's fiancée in name, everyone knew she was merely a pitiful hostage, forced to marry the enemy who killed her father.
In those early days, she cried every day—crying for her father, for her sister, for the Jon she hadn't originally liked or cared about, and for her own current fate. Later, her tears ran dry, leaving only numbness, and she slowly learned to use silence to protect herself.
Now, she could only spend her long and tedious days accompanied by her handmaid, Jeyne Poole. Jeyne would occasionally tell her news she had scouted from outside.
Jeyne was the daughter of Winterfell's steward, Vayon Poole; she had grown up with Sansa and was her best friend. Naturally, she had accompanied her to King's Landing. After Eddard's arrest, the Gold Cloaks searched the Tower of the Hand, killed her father, and seized her as well.
They had originally intended to send her to be a camp follower, as she was very beautiful. But Littlefinger saw her and said, "Keep the girl, she might still be of use." Thus, she was kept and became Sansa's handmaid to care for and accompany her.
However, before assigning Jeyne, Cersei had 'trained' her for a time. Therefore, while she was said to be caring for Sansa, it was actually a form of surveillance, though Jeyne's inner loyalty to Sansa had never changed.
Cersei would occasionally visit Sansa to speak with her, sometimes with threats, sometimes with inducements. Generally speaking, she was polite enough, but that kind of politeness was more unsettling than direct malice.
Joffrey, on the other hand, came often, eyeing her with a gaze that made her skin crawl. He told her that as soon as her flowering came, he would marry her and take her maidenhead.
While she was lost in thought, the door was pushed open, and Jeyne walked in carrying dinner. After placing the tray on the table, she said softly, "Sansa, it's time to eat."
Sansa didn't move. She continued to look out the window and asked, "Jeyne, has something happened outside? It feels more chaotic than usual."
Jeyne looked at her and said in a low voice, "I heard the guards in the castle saying that the Targaryens have fought their way back."
Sansa turned her head, her grey eyes filled with complex emotions.
"Targaryen?" she murmured. "Viserys Targaryen?"
"Yes, it's him," Jeyne nodded. "They say Viserys brought dragons—ten giant dragons. He has already occupied Dragonstone and Driftmark. Now his fleet fills the entire Blackwater Bay, the sea routes to King's Landing are blockaded, and he even has an army on the Crabs Claw Peninsula."
Sansa fell silent.
Targaryen. The name was both familiar and foreign to her. She had never seen a real Targaryen, but in the stories she had heard since childhood, the Targaryens were always the villains.
The Mad King Aerys had burned her grandfather and uncle to death, and Rhaegar Targaryen had abducted her aunt Lyanna. Her father once told her that it was Robert and he, along with a group of noble lords, who had together overthrown the Targaryen tyranny and brought the subsequent prosperity to the Seven Kingdoms.
Undoubtedly, the Starks and Targaryens were enemies, with a blood feud between them.
But now, the ones who had imprisoned her here were the Lannisters, the ones who had murdered her father were the Lannisters, and the ones who had left Arya and Jon missing were also the Lannisters. She hated the Lannisters far more than the Targaryens.
Furthermore, there was a blood feud between the Targaryens and the Lannisters as well. If the Targaryens took King's Landing, the Lannisters would be finished. Joffrey would die, Cersei would die, and Jaime would die.
As for her, Sansa Stark, she didn't know what her fate would be. Perhaps she would die in the chaos of battle, perhaps she would be taken as a captive, perhaps...
But she felt that as long as the Lannisters were made to pay their blood debt, it would all be worth it.
"Sansa?" Jeyne called her name softly.
Sansa snapped out of it, seeing Jeyne's concerned gaze, and quickly replied, "I'm fine, Jeyne. I was just thinking about some things."
She turned back to the window, looking at the hazy grey surface of the sea. She didn't dare think further, but the seed of the idea had already been planted.
Looking at Sansa's expression, Jeyne hesitated for a moment before pulling a letter from her bosom. Even though there were only the two of them in the room, she still instinctively looked left and right.
"Sansa, someone asked me to give this letter to you."
Sansa took the letter with some confusion; she didn't know who would still risk writing to her. But after opening the letter, her eyes instantly widened.
It was a letter from Arya. The letter was short, the handwriting crooked and messy—it was clearly written by Arya's own hand.
It said she was currently in Valyria and was safe. Someone was teaching her swordsmanship, and there were people to talk to and play with. It also said Princess Daenerys was very kind to her, as was Princess Rhaenys. Finally, it told Sansa not to worry, that Viserys would save her, and they would see each other when the war was over.
Looking at the contents of the letter, Sansa's tears instantly welled up and dripped onto the parchment. Arya was alive. Her sister was still alive.
She gripped the letter tightly in her hand as if clutching a precious treasure. Jeyne didn't know what was written on it, but she felt Sansa's long-strained nerves finally relax at that moment. She stepped forward, pulled Sansa into an embrace, and gently patted her back without saying a word.
Outside, in the distance, black dots were still cruising back and forth on the sea; those were the patrol ships of the Valyrian Empire.
Sansa calmed her emotions, wiped away her tears, and looked in that direction. For the first time, a completely clear thought formed in her heart.
She hoped the Targaryens would win. She hoped that Viserys Targaryen could fight his way into King's Landing and rescue her.
Though she knew she shouldn't think this way as a Stark, at this moment, she didn't care about that anymore. She only wanted to leave this place, only wanted to see Arya again, only wanted to return to the North, to Winterfell.
Even if it meant dealing with a Targaryen, even if it meant betraying the blood feud of House Stark, she no longer cared.
She prayed silently in her heart, to the Old Gods, to the Seven, to any gods that might exist; she prayed that the dragons would break King's Landing.
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