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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 735/853
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The
two
guards
at
the
door
wore
the
lion
-
crested
helms
and
crimson
cloaks
of
House
Lannister
,
but
Sansa
knew
they
were
only
dressed
-
up
sellswords
.
Another
sat
at
the
foot
of
the
stair
—
a
real
guard
would
have
been
standing
,
not
sitting
on
a
step
with
his
halberd
across
his
knees
—
but
he
rose
when
he
saw
them
and
opened
the
door
to
usher
them
inside
.
The
Queen
’
s
Ballroom
was
not
a
tenth
the
size
of
the
castle
’
s
Great
Hall
,
only
half
as
big
as
the
Small
Hall
in
the
Tower
of
the
Hand
,
but
it
could
still
seat
a
hundred
,
and
it
made
up
in
grace
what
it
lacked
in
space
.
Beaten
silver
mirrors
backed
every
wall
sconce
,
so
the
torches
burned
twice
as
bright
;
the
walls
were
paneled
in
richly
carved
wood
,
and
sweet
-
smelling
rushes
covered
the
floors
.
From
the
gallery
above
drifted
down
the
merry
strains
of
pipes
and
fiddle
.
A
line
of
arched
windows
ran
along
the
south
wall
,
but
they
had
been
closed
off
with
heavy
draperies
.
Thick
velvet
hangings
admitted
no
thread
of
light
,
and
would
muffle
the
sound
of
prayer
and
war
alike
.
It
makes
no
matter
,
Sansa
thought
.
The
war
is
with
us
.
Almost
every
highborn
woman
in
the
city
sat
at
the
long
trestle
tables
,
along
with
a
handful
of
old
men
and
young
boys
.
The
women
were
wives
,
daughters
,
mothers
,
and
sisters
.
Their
men
had
gone
out
to
fight
Lord
Stannis
.
Many
would
not
return
.
The
air
was
heavy
with
the
knowledge
.
As
Joffrey
’
s
betrothed
,
Sansa
had
the
seat
of
honor
on
the
queen
’
s
right
hand
.
She
was
climbing
the
dais
when
she
saw
the
man
standing
in
the
shadows
by
the
back
wall
.
He
wore
a
long
hauberk
of
oiled
black
mail
,
and
held
his
sword
before
him
:
her
father
’
s
greatsword
,
Ice
,
near
as
tall
as
he
was
.
Its
point
rested
on
the
floor
,
and
his
hard
bony
fingers
curled
around
the
cross
-
guard
on
either
side
of
the
grip
.
Sansa
’
s
breath
caught
in
her
throat
.
Ser
Ilyn
Payne
seemed
to
sense
her
stare
.
He
turned
his
gaunt
,
pox
-
ravaged
face
toward
her
.
"
What
is
he
doing
here
?
"
she
asked
Osfryd
Kettleblack
.
He
captained
the
queen
’
s
new
red
-
cloak
guard
.
Osfryd
grinned
.
"
Her
Grace
expects
she
’
ll
have
need
of
him
before
the
night
’
s
done
.
"
Ser
Ilyn
was
the
King
’
s
Justice
.
There
was
only
one
service
he
might
be
needed
for
.
Whose
head
does
she
want
?
"
All
rise
for
Her
Grace
,
Cersei
of
House
Lannister
,
Queen
Regent
and
Protector
of
the
Realm
,
"
the
royal
steward
cried
.
Cersei
’
s
gown
was
snowy
linen
,
white
as
the
cloaks
of
the
Kingsguard
.
Her
long
dagged
sleeves
showed
a
lining
of
gold
satin
.
Masses
of
bright
yellow
hair
tumbled
to
her
bare
shoulders
in
thick
curls
.
Around
her
slender
neck
hung
a
rope
of
diamonds
and
emeralds
.
The
white
made
her
look
strangely
innocent
,
almost
maidenly
,
but
there
were
points
of
color
on
her
cheeks
.
"
Be
seated
,
"
the
queen
said
when
she
had
taken
her
place
on
the
dais
,
"
and
be
welcome
.
"
Osfryd
Kettleblack
held
her
chair
;
a
page
performed
the
same
service
for
Sansa
.
