Red Keep several hours ter.

  "I don't want to practice today. They killed Jory and hurt my father. I don't care about stupid wooden swords," Aria said with a gloomy look on her face.

  "Good, you are troubled." The wooden sword hit her arm, initiating a duel.

  "You're not here; you're with your troubles. If you're with your troubles when fighting happens, it means more trouble for you." Aria hit the ground after a parrying move as her instructor spoke.

  "Trouble is the perfect time to train, as when you fight, you will be troubled. Trouble will help you dance as quick as a snake and as silent as a shadow." The short duel ended as he spoke once more, "When you're worried about your father, do you pray to the gods? Yes, good, but remember there is only one God, and his name is Death, and there is only one thing we say to Death: 'Not today.' Come, let's continue!"

  Sansa Stark POV

  Another boring day of sewing with the Septa trying to remind me about the even more boring North. Thankfully, my prince came to save me from her constant nagging. He even brought a stunning neckce for me.

  "Will you forgive me for my rudeness? I'm afraid I've behaved terribly these past few weeks," Joffrey said charmingly while smiling at her.

  "There's nothing to forgive," she said shyly, looking down at the floor while he continued talking.

  "You're my dy. One day we will be married in the throne room, and all the Lords and dies will come to see. You will be queen over all of them. I'll never disrespect you again or be cruel to you again from this day until my st day," he spoke softly while getting closer step by step.

  She loved his words; it's all she ever dreamed about. This was it; he was about to take her first kiss. Everything was perfect: the neckce, the setting sun, and his soft words. All her doubts about him faded like an afterthought as she closed her eyes, waiting for her true love's kiss.

  SQUAAAK!! Fp fp fp! SQUAAAK!!

  "AAAH!? OW, FUCK. FUCKING BIRD!" Joffrey screamed in rage.

  She opened her eyes to see her perfect moment ruined by a small bird that was ripping into Joffrey's hair and face while he furiously tried to grab it out of the air or punch it to death until one of its talons cut his cheek, making him scream in pain and run away with the bird flying after him. She was simply too stunned to help him before he was gone, leaving her in a worse mood than before.

  Meanwhile, far in Britannia, near the holy capital and below one of the first churches established by Lorgar to protect his gods' hidden works, several tech priests engaged in holy prayer were awoken by the massive machine, which had various runes and symbols engraved on its metal shielding, which, if anyone could read it, would transte to "ACM or anti-cuck machine."

  Designed by the Omnissiah's own hands and given the very best capabilities, lighting up, and its antenna turning for a brief time before returning to its complex calcutions. They knew not what had happened, only that their gods' will had been done, which was enough to break out the holy machine oil.

  Returning to the Red Keep, several hours had passed, and Sansa's day was getting worse and worse.

  Her father had called her back along with her little monster of a sister only to tell them he wanted to send them back to pin boring Winterfell and away from Joffrey. "Please, Father, please don't!" she spoke as her sister also compined about her lessons with her dancing instructor. "Who cares about your stupid dancing? I can't go; I'm supposed to marry Joffrey. I love him, and I'm meant to be his queen and have his babies."

  Her sister looked at her with a disgusted side-eye as she said, "Seven hells." If she wasn't trying to convince Father, she would have started a fight.

  "When you're old enough, I'll make you a match with someone who's worthy of you. Someone brave, gentle, and strong," Father spoke, but she pushed in, trying to convince Father that Joffrey was right for her and she should stay.

  "I don't want someone like that; I want him. He'll be the greatest king that ever was—a gold lion—and I'll be by his side, giving him sons with beautiful blonde hair." She noticed their chuckles, but she had to press on for her dream.

  Her sister, between chuckles, chimed in to mock her. "A stag's their symbol, like his father, not a lion, idiot!" This shows how little she knew. "He's not; he's nothing like his father. Nothing like that old drunk king." Her father's eyes lit up, and for a brief moment, she thought that he was convinced. Unfortunately, they were chased out of his office to pack their things, and her hopes were squashed, making this the worst day of her life. The st thing she saw before leaving was her father opening a thick book.