The Red Keep is a castle built by the Targaryen family.
Aegon the Conqueror merely established a military camp and fortress there using earth and wood structures.
With gradual expansion, it was finally completed in the hands of the third king, Maegor Targaryen. Maegor built many secret passages within the Red Keep.
To protect the secrets of these passages, all the craftsmen who built the castle were killed.
Once, the Targaryens liked to use dragon skulls as decorations for the castle.
But after the Baratheons occupied it, they moved all those dragon skulls to the crypts, replacing them with the Baratheon's crowned stag and the Lannister's golden lion banners.
Ever since Robert's death, the joyful atmosphere within the Red Keep had vanished, especially with the continuous setbacks on the front lines.
Jaime was captured.
The Clegane was killed.
The Westerlands were invaded, and Stannis was pressing with a large army.
The Baratheon dynasty seemed to be tottering after barely a decade or so.
Guards and handmaidens limped through the castle, as if wading through cold, ice-choked river water.
Every step was cautious, incredibly difficult.
And in Maegor's Holdfast, which was the royal residence, all the chill emanated from there. A woman in her thirties, with hair as golden as true gold and eyes as green as jewels, stood on the terrace.
Her clothes were made by the finest tailors in all Seven Kingdoms.
Stags and lions formed the prominent and subtle patterns on her dress respectively.
The red and gold colors accentuated her delicate beauty and nobility. Yet, even such clothes, she would not wear more than three times.
This was none other than the current Queen Dowager of the Baratheons—Cersei Lannister.
Cersei stood on the terrace, pacing back and forth incessantly; even when she sat down, she would quickly rise again.
Of the thousands of chairs throughout the Red Keep, it seemed not one could accommodate the Queen Dowager.
A pair of green eyes looked towards the River Gate, as if yearning.
She was particularly annoyed by Tyrion's decision to bring Joffrey to the city walls. What was even more infuriating was that even Grand Maester Pycelle and Master of Whisperers Varys supported his decision.
Cersei truly did not understand.
A child.
What could a thirteen-year-old child accomplish when thrown onto a battlefield?
They even made Joffrey wear splendid armor and insisted he wear his crown.
As if afraid the enemy wouldn't know he was the King. "I must find a way to get Joffrey back." Cersei gripped her wine glass tightly, but then realized another problem: if King's Landing were breached, she would have to escape with Joffrey!
By then, there would be armies everywhere outside; where could she flee?
A figure flashed before Cersei's eyes, and she turned to her handmaiden, commanding:
"Go summon Lord Varys!"
Varys, as the Master of Whisperers, was also bald.
He was quite portly, and always exuded the scent of lilacs. No one had ever seen him speak loudly, nor had anyone ever seen him lose his temper.
Speaking of speech, if one didn't look at his face when he spoke, one might think it was a woman speaking. Sometimes he would even let out a girlish giggle.
He was like a soft, large pillow.
But such a person was not simple; he came from the Free Cities across the Narrow Sea. The last king of the Targaryens was Aerys Targaryen.
Known as Aerys, The Mad King.
Varys had once served The Mad King.
After Robert became King, he became Robert's Master of Whisperers, and even acquired intelligence about the Targaryen descendants Viserys and Daenerys in exile in the Free Cities.
Of course, none of this was important to Cersei at the moment. She was not concerned with the Free Cities a thousand miles away, but with King's Landing right now.
Soon, Varys was summoned before Cersei. She didn't waste time, but asked directly: "Lord Varys, I heard you know about the secret passages from the Red Keep to the outside?"
"Your Grace, please believe me, that is merely a rumor." Varys replied calmly, in his very neutral, gender-indistinguishable voice.
"But I heard that in his last few years, The Mad King trusted you the most; he should have told you all about the secret passages." Cersei still did not give up.
"Your Grace, that is still baseless," Varys's tone became even more respectful.
"Am I to wait here to die, entrusting my life to that dwarf?" Cersei threw her wine glass violently to the ground, and the expensive crystal goblet shattered into pieces.
"Your Grace, perhaps you can keep a closer watch on Sansa; at least she is a good hostage."
"Sansa."
Cersei realized she had been so flustered that she had forgotten she still held such a hostage.
After Eddard was executed, Sansa became Joffrey's 'toy' for venting anger.
Whenever the war on the front lines suffered a setback, Joffrey would beat Sansa, and Cersei, as the Queen Dowager, would turn a blind eye.
Now was the time for Sansa to truly be useful. But could Sansa's life buy Stannis's mercy?
This was clearly not something Cersei could consider.
She turned and commanded: "Go! Bring Miss Sansa to me!"
A red-haired girl stood by the window, her pale face looking like a broken flower bud ravaged by wind and rain.
"Look out the window! Look!"
The nun's harsh voice lashed at Sansa's heart like a whip.
Her grey-brown eyes were like cloudy ice, and the grey habit she wore became the girl's most terrifying attire.
Sansa opened her swollen, tear-filled eyes and looked out the window. On the merlon there, a human head was impaled.
It was the head of the previous Hand of the King, Eddard Stark's head, her father's head.
Joffrey used this method to torment Sansa's spirit.
Her arms were covered in pinch marks from fingernails, and her back had some whip marks.
But she endured it willingly. All these were caused by Joffrey.
The whip marks were because her elder brother Robb had captured Joffrey's uncle, Ser Jaime Lannister.
The pinch marks on her arms were because her bastard brother Jon Snow had slain Tywin's most capable general, Gregor Clegane.
A fire always burned in Sansa's heart; she believed her family would surely come to King's Landing to rescue her.
But trapped in enemy territory, boundless fear consumed her. Her once somewhat plump cheeks had sunken in, and even the prominent veins on her neck could be seen. The delicate beauty that once belonged exclusively to a noble young lady had vanished from her in just over a month.
Just then, a knight-like figure entered her room.
"Sansa Stark, Her Grace the Queen Dowager wishes to see you."
"The Queen Dowager."
Sansa recalled the details of her interactions with Cersei when Eddard was still alive. She always patiently taught her court etiquette and matters of importance, even drinking tea and chatting with her.
But once her father Eddard died, she seemed to become like a roadside weed, unable to even see her face.
Sansa didn't know why Cersei wanted to see her, but she obediently followed. At least she wouldn't have to look at her father's increasingly decaying face.
At the nun's urging, she changed her clothes.
However, due to her emaciated body, the clothes had become ill-fitting.
Sansa followed the knight; she was, after all, only about ten years old. The knight was tall and burly, with long legs, and walked ahead without any intention of accommodating Sansa.
Sansa could only quicken her steps to try and keep up, but she was even deprived of food and lacked the stamina, causing her to be somewhat out of breath.
"Hurry up! Don't keep Her Grace waiting!"
The knight urged, which made Sansa feel wronged. All the knights she had seen before were always so polite.
Tears welled up in her eyes, and Sansa prayed sadly:
"Mother, Robb, Jon—when will you come to save me?" Just then, a deep, resonant sound echoed, and even the knight urging her slowed his pace.
The deep hum was like an invisible wave, coming from the direction of the Blackwater Rush to the south.
"It's the horn!"
Sansa suddenly remembered that when she and her father Eddard first arrived in King's Landing, King Robert held a tourney to welcome them.
There was such a horn sound at the opening of the tourney.
It wasn't just Sansa and the knight.
All the guards and handmaidens throughout the Red Keep heard the battle horn.
They all stopped in their tracks.
Some even prayed on the spot.
Because they knew what fate awaited them once Stannis's army broke into King's Landing.
Being raped would already be a good outcome; to preserve one's life would be to thank the gods for their mercy.
Cersei still stood on the terrace; when she heard the horn, she felt somewhat unsteady. She could now only place all her hope in her dwarf brother, Tyrion.
=
The battle horn had sounded, but Davos remained uneasy.
This 'Onion Knight', during Robert's Rebellion, smuggled food into Storm's End, allowing Stannis to hold the castle.
He also used smuggling to elevate himself from commoner to noble.
Although only a minor noble, it was enough for him to be utterly devoted to Stannis.
He placed all four of his adult sons in the most dangerous positions.
He also told his sons that this was "the most glorious" place.
He hoped they would be the first to break into the city, to repay Stannis's kindness.
However—
Davos looked back at the winch tower behind him again.
He often claimed to know the waterways around King's Landing like the back of his hand.
But the appearance of those two winch towers felt to him like two extra fingers growing on his palm.
He always felt that Imry Florent, who commanded the fleet, was somewhat reckless.
The massive fleet could not utilize its advantages in this narrow river channel. Instead, the warships became obstacles to each other's maneuvering.
But they had already ventured deep into the Blackwater Rush; there was no turning back. The massive fleet could hardly even slow down, let alone turn around.
Now they had only two choices: either hold a victory celebration within King's Landing, or retreat in defeat.
Die in battle, or become prisoners.
The horn urged everyone, carrying far and wide, even reaching the Northern army hiding in the woods north of King's Landing.
Dondarrion found Jon, discovering he was still asleep, with Solla still sitting beside him.
Seeing him approach, Solla spoke: "Jon said if an attack were to be launched, he would come to find you. Please, Ser, return first and have the soldiers check their weapons and siege ladders."
Dondarrion looked at Jon, who was 'sleeping with his head covered', hesitated for a moment, and then left the tent.
The army was one he had built himself; they had to listen to him, and could only listen to him.
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