"This young king is totally stuck" says Bronn behind me. "Balls like brains, everything is dirty."
"Do you think that if he soaks his biscuit, it will cure him of his illness?" asks Tyrion.
"When you're stupid, there's no cure..."
I hastily wiped my tears and turned to the two men.
"Joffrey doesn't want to touch me. II don't see why he would want someone else. And if he does, it's surprisingly upsetting."
I'm his wife, though.
"Also, I don't want a murder on my conscience."
"You don't think that..."
My eyes are on Joffrey, still sitting on his throne on the other side of the room, rage distorts his features.
"It doesn't matter what I think. What I do know is that Joffrey is capable of the worst. Worse than you think."
"I've never heard you talk like that about him."
"Neither do I" I answer with a smile. "It's kind of fun to tell the truth. Gentlemen..."
In one bow, I slip away. The time when I did not react is over. It is no longer a question of bowing to the king. It is no longer a question of obeying orders. The few times I tasted power, I liked it. So now I will give the orders.
♐︎
After a good meal with Bronn, I go to the royal apartments. This day was emotionally very complicated. After the incident in the throne room, I spent long hours in the gardens contemplating the Blackwater Bay. I wondered how my father would have acted.
Ned Stark was a man of honor who put his morals before anything else. The education he gave us was worthy of the great lords of the North: «the wolf alone dies but the pack survives». I must respect this teaching.
I can't afford to take Ned as an example. His actions, though honorable, led him to where he is now: in a trunk towards Renly's encampment. I must follow my own code, my own morality. But, surprisingly, making the right decisions turns out to be complicated when your heart leans for a mad king.
When I try to enter my room, the Hound blocks my way. The man guards our door alternately with Sir Meryn Trant. I am the only person they must not tell the king.
"It's getting late, I need some rest."
"No one can enter."
"Is the king ill?" I ask naively.
I suspect not. If the king was sick, he would have called me, and Cersei would be by his side.
"Is he angry, then?" I insist.
"No, Majesty."
"Well..."
But a scream stops me. There's someone inside the room moaning in pain. A woman.
"Did the king order you not to let anyone in?"
"No, ma'am."
"So, who?"
"No one"
"You decided it?"
Taken aback, I look at the Hound. He knows very well what is going on but prevents me from entering to protect me from what I'll find there. A second cry comes to us, more distinct. That voice sounds familiar to me.
"Let me in!" I'm yelling. "I have to get in! My friend is inside!"
"You..."
"Let me in, Clegane! I am your queen and I command you to-"
In a sudden motion, he puts his hand on my mouth and blocks my hands against my back. My jerky breathing seems to move the ground under my feet. The Hound approaches my ear to whisper:
"You will not enter. Go to sleep elsewhere."
After making sure I don't scream again, Clegane lets me go.
"He wouldn't hurt me" I rise up while dusting my dress.
"I'm sure you don't believe that."
"I..."
In a long sigh, I let my arms fall down my body. He is right. In that state, Joffrey would make short work with me.
"How many are they?"
"Two" he answers. "A redhead and a brunette from the free cities."
"Is this a gift from Tyrion?"
The Hound only gives me a brief nod. It seems that nobody listens to me in this cheap castle.
♐︎
Back in my old room, I look at Arrow lying at the foot of the bed. That's where she comes when Joffrey chases her from our apartments. That is almost every night, depending on his mood.
Tired by this day, I lie down without further ado. And it is always dressed, my shoes on my feet, that I fell asleep.
I am awakened several hours later by a loud noise and grunts. On the left, I see only the dark night vaguely lit by the lights of King's Landing, a city that never sleeps. To my right, King Joffrey appears accompanied by Sir Meryn.
"We came to fetch you" says the king, waving at the soldier.
Scared at first, I jump up. My hand is looking for some blade under my pillow but can't find any... I miss Winterfell.
"Stay away from me, you brute" I spit at Trant.
He was the one who, this morning, laid his hand on my sister in the throne room. Another knight who got his cape without merit.
"What happens to you?" Joffrey wonders. "Don't you want to sleep in your bed?"
"I'm in bed! And I don't want to sleep with you after what you did to Ros!"
"Ros?"
Not surprisingly, he doesn't even know the names of the girls he raped.
"The redhead" I say.
"Oh... Yes. She's fine."
"I heard her screaming!"
"And you didn't come in?"
Maybe I should have. The Hound wouldn't let me, but I could have given him the order to let me through. I could have stopped the massacre, protected Ros. But I preferred to protect myself.
"I now resume quarter in this chamber" I declare. "We will no longer sleep together. And I will send servants to take my things tomorrow at dawn."
"I order you to come to bed!"
"I don't obey anyone's orders!" I yell.
Disconcertingly easy, the knight grabs me by the waist and positions me on his shoulder. No matter how much I hit him, no matter how much I gesticulate, it doesn't work. I'm trapped. I'm alone.
♐︎
When I wake up, the bed is empty. My thighs burn, my crotch is raw. I don't bleed, but the pain is the same. My breasts are also painful and, when I lift the sheet, I find several bruises.
The events of the past night are clear in my head, my brain has forgotten nothing. Joffrey, Meryn Trant, me. Or rather my body. Because I, Diana, wasn't really there. My members weren't responding to any of my orders, no sound coming out of my mouth.
After a few minutes, I stopped struggling. I realized that I was not strong enough and that it was putting me in more danger. I agreed.
The bedroom door opens without anyone knocking and Shae appears. The corridor noises circulate fast in this castle and now that the young woman is in the service of Sansa, she hears all kinds of things.
"I've... I've..." I've been limping before I burst into tears.
The lorathi sits against me and takes my hands in hers.
"You didn't do anything" she whispers. "It's not you. It's him..."
She wraps her little arms around me. My skin seems so fragile that I hardly dare put my head against her shoulder, lest it explode.
"Take a bath and rest."
"Thank you... thank you Shae..." I'm whispering, exhausted.