Sansa stood in the balcony with the other highborn ladies, nervously clutching the rail as she looked down upon the scene below. The throne room buzzed with anticipation. Joffrey, making a show of his power, had decided to hear cases, but the lords and most of the smallfolk who crowded the hall were present for another reason. Today, the King would bestow the lordship of the Twins on one of his loyal subjects, and every nobleman in the room hoped it would be him. The herald dismissed the petitioners remaining to be heard when His Grace grew weary of passing judgments, and the throne room grew quiet. Joffrey stood and smiled. “It is a king’s duty to reward loyalty and service to the Realm. Today, I wish to reward my most faithful and loyal subject with a fine gift, long past due.”
Sansa closed the door carefully, wishing she could slam it. She’d thought she was angry when she overheard the women at the wells, but that was nothing compared to how she felt now. She had never known she was capable of feeling such deep, overwhelming rage. She wasn’t even horrified about slapping the Hound, twice, even though she knew she should be. A lady should always maintain her composure. Only little children resorted to hitting people when they were upset. Until now she would have been aghast at even thinking about striking anyone, but at this very moment she didn’t care. She paced about the room angrily, picking things up and putting them down again, and imagined how satisfying it would be to hurl them at the walls. Or at the Hound. I must have been mad to have wanted him. What kind of lady threw herself at someone like the Hound? Her mother and Septa Mordane would have been so ashamed if they’d known how wantonly she’d behaved in these past few weeks. Let him have his kitchen maids. He probably had whores, too.
The Hound stormed off, cloak billowing behind him. Even in his anger, he looked magnificent, with his massive shoulders and long black hair, his entire body muscled like a bull. Sansa waited until she could no longer hear his footsteps, and then waited a while longer, hoping he would come back and crush her in his embrace and let her show him how sorry she was for somehow making him angry. But after a long time alone in the corridor, she finally had to admit to herself that he wasn’t coming back, at least not tonight.
No woman had ever smiled at him like that. Sandor’s heart lurched. She was so fucking beautiful. He wanted to wrap her in his cloak and hold her close and tell her he would keep her safe from anyone or anything that ever tried to hurt her again. He wanted to push her back into her room, kick the door shut, and make her his, fuck her on her silk sheets and feather pillows and hear her cry out his name in sweet release.
He wanted her to realize, right now, that she loved him.
The Hound rolled to her side and put his arm around her. Sansa lay her head on his broad chest as her breathing slowly returned to normal and she waited for his seed to dry on her belly and on her thighs, where she had wiped her palms after he… after he found his release in her hands. Her skirts were still hiked around her waist, but she felt little shame. She could not risk anything staining her gown, otherwise her maids and the washerwomen would know, and she could not bear to think of what might happen to her then.