The sun shone brightly over the packed stands of the Hand’s tourney in King’s Landing, the air alive with the clash of lances and the cheers of the crowd. Sansa sat near the front, her blue eyes wide with excitement as a knight in silver armor unhorsed his opponent with a graceful tilt. Beside her, Jeyne Poole clutched her arm, giggling.

"Did you see that, Sansa? Oh, he’s so gallant!" Jeyne’s cheeks were flushed, her dark hair falling loose from her braid.

Sansa smiled, brushing a strand of auburn hair from her face. "That’s Ser Balon Swann, isn’t it? He’s skilled, but I think Ser Loras is even finer. He’s so... handsome," she added with a dreamy sigh, thinking of the Knight of Flowers and the red rose he had given her earlier.

Jeyne leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Do you think he noticed you blushing when he gave you the rose? I would faint if a knight like that looked at me!"

Sansa laughed, soft and sweet. "Oh, Jeyne, stop! You’re making me sound silly." She smoothed the skirt of her gown, embroidered with little blue flowers.