In the Master of Coin's tower.
Sansa Stark stood before the window, overlooking the Kingsroad, long submerged in flowers below.
She hadn't slept all night.
She really couldn't sleep.
A faint green circle lingered under her beautiful blue eyes, cleverly concealed by powder.
She wore a sky-blue dress, her favorite color, and the color of the Winterfell sky.
Exquisite direwolf patterns were embroidered with silver thread on the neckline and cuffs of the dress.
This was her pride as the eldest daughter of House Stark.
She watched maids unsparingly scattering baskets of golden rose petals on the cold flagstone road.
Those petals should have been paved for her.
That man about to receive the worship of thousands and marry a princess should have been her husband!
But now, she was merely a spectator?
A pitiful spectator dressed in finery, forced to offer "heartfelt" blessings for her rival's wedding...
"Lady Sansa, it's time to depart."
A maid's voice sounded behind her.
Sansa didn't turn around, just gave a soft "Mmm."
She took one last look at the golden ocean outside the window, then turned and walked out of this suffocating room.
Every step made her heart, already full of cracks, more fragile.
---
The atmosphere in Maegor's Holdfast was completely different.
Myrcella Baratheon, today's absolute protagonist, sat quietly at her dressing table.
She let a dozen maids buzz around her like bees around a queen, applying the final touches.
She wore a gown enough to drive all women in the Seven Kingdoms crazy.
Fine ivory silk from Lys flowed with a soft luster.
The style of the dress wasn't complicated, but with the most perfect cut, it outlined the girl's budding exquisite curves.
Most breathtaking were the patterns densely woven with the finest gold thread on the hem and bodice.
The stag of House Baratheon.
Entrenched on the ivory silk in an almost arrogant posture.
Hidden under intricate lace and tiny pearls, they weren't conspicuous from afar.
But once close, that unquestionable majesty and oppression rushed over.
This was personally chosen for her by Cersei.
Myrcella looked at herself in the mirror.
That beautiful face was full of shyness and joy.
She stroked the gorgeous stag embroidered with gold thread on her chest.
Thinking to herself.
She didn't know what expression Lynn would have when he saw her.
Would he like the beautiful her?
The corners of Myrcella's mouth curled up uncontrollably.
She looked forward to that scene very much.
---
At the same time, in the Tower of the Hand.
Lynn was fully dressed.
He didn't choose the complicated and gorgeous attire of southern nobles.
He wore a tight-fitting tunic cut from fine black velvet, without any superfluous decoration.
The only bright color was the sigil of the three-headed dragon, uniquely his, embroidered with mithril thread on the neckline and cuffs.
Lynn turned and walked out of the room.
---
The bells of the Great Sept of Baelor echoed solemnly over King's Landing, one after another.
Inside the sept, the dignitaries of the Seven Kingdoms gathered.
King Robert sat crookedly on a gorgeous chair specially prepared for him in the front row.
Holding a huge golden cup, he was pouring wine into his mouth, his face flushed.
Queen Cersei sat beside him, wearing a noble and confident smile.
And Sansa was arranged in an inconspicuous corner.
She looked at the huge seven-pointed star stained glass window, watching sunlight project colorful shadows on the ground through the glass.
She felt like a clumsy actor who had stumbled onto the wrong stage.
Every smiling face here, every congratulation, stabbed mercilessly into her heart.
She regretted it.
She truly regretted it.
She regretted why she hadn't been braver that night.
If...
If that night.
She hadn't interrupted her action because of Myrcella.
If she had really sat on Lynn's armrest as she imagined, kissing Lynn's lips...
Would the ending be different from today?
Would Lynn refuse this absurd wedding for her?
This thought, once it appeared, lingered.
Just then, the doors of the sept were slowly pushed open.
Everyone's gaze turned in unison.
Myrcella appeared.
Holding Ned Stark's arm, bathed in sunlight.
Like an ivory statue walking among mortals.
She was too beautiful.
Beautiful enough to suffocate.
Beautiful enough to eclipse the entire sept.
Sansa looked at her.
Looking at the magnificent gown on Myrcella, at the perfect smile on her face.
She felt her breath completely stolen by Myrcella at this moment.
Ned Stark, expressionless, walked Myrcella step by step down the seemingly endless red carpet.
Sansa looked at her father.
Personally delivering another girl to the man who should have belonged to her...
At that moment, she even had a crazy thought.
Rush up.
Just like in the love stories sung by bards, rush up!
Tell everyone, this man is mine!
But she couldn't.
Her name was Sansa Stark.
Behind her was the honor of the entire North.
She couldn't let her father be shamed, couldn't let House Stark become the laughingstock of the Seven Kingdoms.
She could only stand here, watching helplessly, like an incompetent coward.
Ned finally walked up to Lynn.
He placed Myrcella's hand in Lynn's.
At the moment of handover, Sansa seemed to hear the sound of her own heart breaking.
Throbbing pain.
The High Septon stepped forward.
His old and lengthy voice sounded in the silent sept.
"Under the light of the Seven, we gather here today to witness the union of two souls."
"Lynn, are you willing to shelter Myrcella of House Baratheon with this cloak?"
Lynn draped the cloak printed with the three-headed dragon sigil over Myrcella's shoulders.
This also symbolized Myrcella leaving her father's house and joining her husband's house from now on.
"I am."
Lynn's voice was calm and clear.
Sansa closed her eyes in pain.
A septon walked over quickly.
"Father, Mother, Warrior, Maiden, Smith, Crone, Stranger."
"By the Seven, I ask them to bear witness."
"Lynn, you may begin."
Lynn nodded.
Looking at the shy and moving Myrcella before him, he spoke slowly.
"In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just."
"In the name of the Mother, I charge you to be merciful."
"In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave."
"In the name of the Maiden, I charge you to protect all women and children."
Myrcella repeated these vows to Lynn.
"From this day forth, until the end of my days."
After Myrcella said the mutual vows, the septon nodded.
"Here, in the sight of gods and men, I pronounce Lynn and Myrcella man and wife."
"From now on, they are one flesh, one heart, one soul, sharing this life."
"One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever."
...
"Alright, stop talking, I do!"
Myrcella's voice was crisp, carrying an urgency, abruptly interrupting the sacred vows.
The entire sept fell into a strange silence instantly.
Everyone was stunned by this sudden scene.
Even the High Septon and the septon opened their mouths, forgetting what to say or do next.
However, something even more shocking was yet to come.
Before anyone could react, Myrcella stood on tiptoe abruptly.
One hand hooked around Lynn's neck, the other pressed firmly on the back of Lynn's head.
Then, Myrcella kissed him fiercely with a posture bordering on savage, full of plunder and possession!
No shyness, no reserve.
Only the most irresistible declaration!
Boom——!
The sept exploded instantly!
King Robert jumped up from his chair.
He smashed the golden cup in his hand heavily on the floor, bursting into thunderous laughter and applause!
"Hahahaha! Good! Well done!"
The smile on Cersei's face grew brighter, that smugness almost overflowing from the corners of her eyes.
Very good.
Her daughter finally learned how to wear a mask.
She believed.
Her daughter could definitely use the most perfect acting to tie Lynn, that wild wolf from the North, firmly under her skirt.
She didn't know.
Beneath that mask was no longer a performance.
But a blazing true heart thoroughly ignited, about to burn everything!
Jaime looked at the two with a complex expression, but suddenly revealed a smile even he hadn't noticed.
And Sansa...
She was staring fixedly at the scene on the altar.
Watching how Myrcella domineeringly possessed her Lynn.
Watching how Lynn, after initial surprise, turned the tables, one hand around Myrcella's slender waist, deepening the kiss.
The world turned black and white at this moment.
Only the two of them were the sole colors.
Those colors, scorching, blinding, burned Sansa's eyes.
She felt like a drowning person now.
Under everyone's gaze, and also under this gaze full of jealousy and heartbreak.
Myrcella finally ended this long kiss.
She turned her face slightly, using the corner of her eye to stab precisely at the sky-blue figure in the corner.
She saw it.
Saw Sansa's face pale as paper, saw the pain in her eyes too late to hide.
An unparalleled joy of victory, carrying twisted pleasure, instantly swept through Myrcella.
She just wanted Sansa to take a good look!
Let her see clearly who the final winner was!
Myrcella released Lynn, a glistening trace of water still on her rosy lips, looking tempting to the extreme.
She stared blankly at Lynn.
Using a voice only she could hear, yet crazy as a devil, she murmured softly word by word.
"From today on, you are mine, Lynn."
"Your eyes, your lips, your body, your heart..."
"All mine."
"Every hair of yours can only belong to me."
"If you abandon me..."
Myrcella's smile became sweeter, and more dangerous.
"I will break your legs and lock you in a room only I know."
"I will feed you every day, sing for you, let you go nowhere."
"Let you, forever and ever, belong only to me."