Chapter 193: Understanding

As Hand of King Eddard Stark accompanied King Robert to take their seats, the next day's tournament officially began.

First up were the final four contestants in the individual competition to determine the ultimate champion.

The competitors included Gregor Clegane, Sandor Clegane, Jaime Lannister, and the mysterious masked knight who arrived late.

Before the match, Sansa in the audience had been delighted that the masked knight hadn't shown up, but now his sudden appearance made her heart race.

Had Arya not encountered him? Or had something unexpected happened?

Sansa nervously watched the still dashing masked knight in the arena, almost on the verge of shouting out. She bit her lip hard, preventing herself from impulsively calling out. 

She knew that revealing Prince Joffrey's plan at this moment could lead to unforeseen consequences, both for Prince Joffrey and for herself and the masked knight in the arena.

From the current lineup in the arena, it was evident that besides the masked knight, the other three knights who made it to the finals were all members of the Lannister family, undoubtedly siding with Joffrey because his mother, the queen consort, was a Lannister.

Among them, Ser Jaime Lannister, one of the Kingsguard, was Queen Cersei's twin brother, and Gregor Clegane and Sandor Clegane both served under Tywin Lannister.

Although the skill level in knightly combat didn't entirely represent one's prowess on the battlefield—at least Sansa knew that the Stark bannermen were skilled fighters in life-and-death battles on the battlefield but not adept in knightly duels.

Yet, the fact that three out of the four finalists were from the Lannister family illustrated their powerful influence, dominating the Seven Kingdoms.

As anxiety continued to gnaw at Sansa's heart, she suddenly noticed the masked knight scanning the audience, as if looking for someone.

Is he looking for me?

Sansa tentatively raised her hand, and soon the masked knight's face turned in her direction, no longer wandering aimlessly. 

Though unable to see the knight's eyes through the helmet, Sansa could still discern that he must be looking at her.

Even though she couldn't see his eyes, the gaze from the masked knight made Sansa feel both bashful and excited. 

She started to fret, wondering if she had applied her makeup correctly that morning, or if he would be dissatisfied with her choice of attire?

—Wait, now's not the time to worry about that. I should find a way to let him know about Prince Joffrey's conspiracy.

Just as Sansa felt anxious and at a loss, she saw the masked knight nodding at her and then gesturing with his hand to a height about the same as his horse's back.

Does that mean... Arya? Arya is about the same height, which means he's seen Arya and knows what I want to tell him, yet he still came to the arena. 

Does that mean he's reassuring me?

At that moment, Sansa felt an unparalleled understanding between herself and the masked knight. 

They seemed like the noble lady and knight torn apart by harsh circumstances in a fairy tale, yet able to understand each other with a single gesture.

Excitedly, she nodded back at the masked knight.

Only then did the masked knight turn in another direction.

Beside Sansa, her friend Jeyne noticed that her friend had been acting strangely since early that morning.

Normally, she would have been discussing and critiquing the knights together or talking about her prince charming. 

But today, she had been wearing a worried expression, and since a while ago, she seemed even more distracted. 

Furthermore, whenever Prince Joffrey was mentioned, she uncharacteristically fell silent, but when Arya was mentioned, she didn't utter any mocking remarks but instead started showing understanding and concern for her sister.

What's going on? It's only been one night, why does she seem like a different person now?

Especially just now, she actually exchanged secret signals with the masked knight. There's definitely something fishy going on.

However, just as Jeyne was about to question her friend further, the tournament officially began, diverting her attention with its excitement. She decided she would ask her friend about it later.

Sandor Clegane was the first to appear in the arena, dressed in slate-gray armor with an olive-green cloak. The cloak and his hound-shaped helmet were his only embellishments.

"A hundred gold dragons on the king slayer," announced Petyr Baelish, the king's master of coin.

His horse was draped in gilded armor, and Jaime himself was gleaming in gold from head to toe, with a lance carved from wood from the Summer Islands.

"I'm in," Renly retorted, "I see the hound is particularly hungry this morning."

"Even a hungry dog knows not to bite its master's hand," Petyr retorted coldly.

That made sense. Jaime Lannister was the Warden of the West, the son of Lord Tywin, while Sandor was his subordinate.

With a clang, Sandor lowered his visor and took his stance. Jaime, on the other hand, blew a kiss to a lady in the crowd before lightly lowering his visor and riding to the edge of the arena. Both lowered their lances.

As their horses thundered forward, the temporary stands trembled.

Sandor leaned forward on his mount, his lance steady as a rock, but at the last moment before impact, Jaime shifted his body, causing Sandor's lance to glance harmlessly off his lion-crested golden shield, while he himself managed to strike true.

Wood splintered, and the hound swayed on his horse, nearly falling off.

Cheers erupted from the crowd.

"I should start thinking about how to spend your money," Petyr said to Renly.

With great effort, Sandor managed to steady himself and turn his horse back towards the edge of the field for the second round.

Jaime Lannister discarded his broken lance, grabbed a new one, and joked with his squire.

Sandor dug his spurs into his mount's sides, urging it forward, as did Jaime.

This time, when Jaime shifted his body, Sandor moved with him. 

Both lances exploded simultaneously, but when the wood splinters settled, Jaime's chestnut horse was without its rider, trotting away to graze. 

Lannister lay in the mud, glittering in gold, his helmet dented.

Jaime got to his feet, but his ornate lion helm was askew, and when it fell off, it got even more dented, making it impossible for him to remove.

The audience pointed and laughed, jeering, and even the noble ladies couldn't help but chuckle. Amidst the uproar, Sansa could distinctly hear King Robert's hearty laughter, louder than anyone else's.

In the end, Sansa's father, Hand of the King Eddard, had to send someone to lead the battered and disoriented Lannister Lion to find a blacksmith.

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