Sansa shrank her neck and looked down in fright. Being naked and getting scolded was a very humbling experience. Let alone by a massive wall of muscle and virile erection standing in front of her.
"I… I wish to…" Sansa's voice trembled as she searched for the right words. "I want to marry you, Your Grace. I'll strive to be a dutiful queen, to serve you well in… in our bedchamber. I'll bear you trueborn heirs, strong and noble. And I… will accept all your love and give it back to you with all m—"
"Silence!" Robert roared, his face dark with anger. "Who filled your head with such drivel? I gave Catelyn my word—I swore to protect you, your honor, and… I took it! Do you even hear yourself? King's Landing is no place for you… No, you'll go back to Winterfell the moment we return. And as for you—"
Robert glared at Myrcella then but lost himself for a moment. His anger with Sansa was genuine and born from his memories. But Myrcella was just a… girl. He didn't know much about her nor did the memories of Robert help.
"Why in the seven hells would you do such a thing, girl? We share no blood, but I thought the bond was true. I let you live in the Red Keep like a princess, and gave you luxuries beyond your station—a bastard's station at that. Not even a royal one. And after last night… the things I did, the things you allowed. How could you?"
And that was when the difference between Sansa and Myrcella became apparent.
"I wanted it." Myrcella proudly proclaimed. "I wanted every moment of what we did. I dreamt of it every night. I loved every moment you were inside me. I loved all you did to me because that's what I wanted. I don't care about my station or the so-called bond, all I know is that I want to be with you, Your Grace. Have me, use me, abuse me, relish me any way you like—that's all I want."
In utter shock, Robert took a step back. He'd never seen Myrcella behave like that. She'd always been a sweet, well-behaved girl. Was all that a lie?
"To be a man's plaything? What sort of a dream is that? Girl, are you well in your head? You were raised to be a princess!" Robert reprimanded.
But Myrcella sat up defiantly, jutted out her naked breasts, and raised her chin. "Not a man's plaything. No, only yours. I don't care how you look at me, but I beg you, please keep me… Please don't send me away, Your Grace."
Robert gulped and sneered. He walked to the side and quickly grabbed a fresh set of clothes to wear. He had to since his body had begun to react in unholy ways. Myrcella's words and the shameless display of her nude body had made him as hard as ever. She even kept her legs spread wide like an invitation.
He truly couldn't understand what made Myrcella like that. She was such a kind and intelligent girl.
"Sansa goes back to Winterfell," Robert declared as he tugged his belt tight. "Myrcella... I'll deal with you later. Need to find you a proper husband first."
Although he had decided on Jon previously, he wasn't sure about that anymore. He didn't want to trap Jon with an unfaithful woman. He wanted to learn about what was going on in Myrcella's head first. Why was she acting so unhinged?
"No! Please!" Sansa cried.
But Robert ignored her and walked towards the door. However, just before he reached for the handle, he looked back in complete seriousness.
"D-Did I finish inside any of you?"
This shame… I will never forget this. So disgusted with himself he felt like throwing himself off the ship. But he was sadly aware of how hard it was to die now.
Myrcella shook her head strongly.
"N-No," Sansa added.
Taking a calming breath, Robert grabbed the door handle. "Get dressed. We're about to reach Braavos."
Thud!
####
The winds were generous. Robert was able to reach Braavos in less than four days. After the morning insanity, he was in no mood to rest or even look at the two girls again. He busied himself with Ser Barristan, training with his sword and warhammer.
He grunted and roared like a beast in pain. Perhaps he was… mentally. He had no idea how to deal with what had transpired. He couldn't share it with anyone either.
Moreover, he felt utterly broken by what he'd done with Sansa. Catelyn's face constantly flickered in his thoughts, her disappointed face even. What would she say if she found out?
"Is that all you got, Barristan?" Robert parried the Lord Commander with ease. There was a time when it was hard to win against Ser Barristan. But whatever magical blessing he'd received, he was no longer in the realm of humans anymore.
A mere tap of his warhammer was enough to shatter and rupture every bone and organ in a body. One single slice of his sword was enough to cleave five men in one go, given they stood in a line.
His bare claws held enough stretch to crush a rhino's skull. With his muscles, he was sure he could lift an average elephant.
But the frightening part was that he was still growing strong. Every single time he was wounded and woke up the next day, he'd be reborn with more strength.
"I can't, Your Grace…" Ser Barristan struggled even with all his techniques. "You have surpassed your prime self many times over. I cannot name a man in Westeros who could best you now. Perhaps among the Dothraki, there are some who might offer a true contest."
"Hah!" Robert laughed like a maniac and lunged forward. "Then find me one. I'd like to see what Essos has to offer. Does Braavos not have any fighting pits?"
"It does not, Your Grace. It's a thing of Slaver's Bay."
Robert nodded and finally, smashed his hammer on Barristan's blocking sword. The clash was enough to force Barristan to let go of his sword or risk breaking his arm.
Clank!
With that, Robert won for the nth time. He'd won against all his Kingsguards combined, too. In a way, his men now revered him like some god of war. More than the thought of protecting the King, the men felt protected by the King's presence instead.
Ting! Ting!
Just then, the bells started to ring, and certain flags were raised to communicate with Robert's royal fleet. The Titan of Braavos came into view soon after, marking their arrival at the wealthiest and likely the most powerful of the Free Cities.
Robert went to the side and splashed his face with water to calm his nerves. Then, he returned to his now empty quarters and wore more regal clothes, worthy of a thriving King.
By the time he walked out to the main deck again, the ship was aligning itself with the docks.
"The Kingsguards and ten Stormlands soldiers will accompany us, Your Grace," Ser Barristan briefed Robert before departing. "Lady Sansa and Lady Myrcella shall have thirty men of the Stormlands and two of the Kingsguard for their escort."
"The girls stay on the ship," Robert barked. "Not a foot on the docks till I'm back, you hear?"
Ser Barristan stole a glance at the well-dressed girls behind and pitifully shrugged. He was in no position to deny the King, after all.
"Very well, Your Grace."
An hour later, Robert finally disembarked the ship and walked on foot since the city wasn't really meant for horses. With his loyal men forming a wall around him, he made his way towards the Iron Bank of Braavos.
####
So much activity in the harbor was hard to ignore.
A mere single glance was enough to tell that the ships were from Westeros, and another glance told that it was the King's own ship. Murmurs spread across the port and then the city, instantly carrying the news that the King of the Seven Kingdoms was there.
Merchants, good folks, and some not-so-pleasant folks, all eyed the ships and the King for different reasons. And among those folks was a young man with blue hair and purple eyes.
"Let's hope this is a worthy play, Young Griff. The lion cannot be trusted."
"The Lannisters are ruled by greed, Ser. They bend to whatever power suits them. I have the Golden Company at my back and the Iron Bank on my side. The Lannisters owe the bank a fortune and the Old Lion's pride demands vengeance. I'd say we're well placed—Robert's a long way from home."
The clean-shaven, leathery-faced man beside the young man scoffed and nodded. "Let's move then."
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