On the third day of Hand of the King Eddard Stark appointment, the eagerly anticipated grand tournament, which King Robert enthusiastically boasted about, was finally about to begin amidst great fanfare.
Banners bearing the sigils of the Baratheon royal family and various noble houses of the Seven Kingdoms fluttered in the wind.
The crowned stag of House Baratheon for Storm's End and the royal family, the direwolf of House Stark for the North, the roaring lion of House Lannister for the Westerlands, the leaping trout of House Tully for the Riverlands, the falcon of House Arryn for the Vale.
The golden rose of House Tyrell for the Reach, the squid of House Greyjoy for the Iron Islands, and the four-legged sea creature of House Greyjoy for the Iron Islands, along with smaller banners of lesser lords such as the rose, the fox, the green apple, and the rainbow trout, were all displayed around the main pavilion.
Knights' shields hung at the entrance of their tents, while a long line of silk triangular flags fluttered in the wind.
Steel swords and gilded lances gleamed in the bright sunlight. Strong knights trained with the assistance of squires, while attendants busied themselves polishing armor and weapons.
Grooms led magnificent warhorses to the riverbank for washing and grooming, adjusting saddles.
The night before the tournament began, horns sounded, and the thunderous sound of hooves announced the arrival of the final batch of knights, busy setting up camp.
After nightfall, a feast was held by the riverbank, with music playing continuously.
Dignitaries from all over King's Landing attended, mingling with lords from across the Seven Kingdoms and the knights who had come from afar.
Courtesans flattered the knights, hoping to make profitable deals.
Noble ladies found excuses to pass by in their carriages, casting interested glances at the young talents under the lords' banners, speculating and debating who the strongest knight in the Seven Kingdoms might be.
Undoubtedly, this would be the grandest knightly competition in the fifteen years since King Robert's coronation.
A prize of up to ninety thousand golden dragons had attracted the strongest warriors from across the continent, and indeed, from around the world, to King's Landing.
If not for King's Landing's status as a major transportation hub and a bustling port, it would have been quite difficult to gather all the continent's strongmen here in just three days.
On the second day, thousands of commoners gathered outside the city walls and along the riverbank to watch the tournament.
The spectacle of the tournament was breathtaking: shining armor, tall warhorses adorned with gold and silver, the loud cheers of the crowd, and the colorful banners fluttering in the wind.
The first day featured jousting matches, lasting until dusk. The thunderous sound of hooves trampled the tournament grounds into a desolate wasteland.
In the royal box, Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, performed brilliantly, effortlessly defeating Ser Andar Royce and Lord of Nightsong, Bryce Caron, before engaging in a fierce battle with his older colleague, Ser Balon Swann.
Ser Balon Swann, despite being older, defeated opponents much younger than himself in the first two rounds.
Sandor Clegane and his monstrous brother, Ser Gregor, were equally unstoppable, brutally defeating opponent after opponent.
The most horrifying incident of the day occurred during Ser Gregor's second match, where his lance pierced through the throat guard of a young knight from the Vale, killing him instantly.
Following that, Ser Balon Swann was unhorsed by Ser Gregor, and Lord Renly Baratheon lost to the Hound. He was struck hard, almost flying backward off his horse.
When Lord Renly got up, the crowd cheered wildly for him, as King Robert's younger brother was always popular among the common folk.
He gracefully bowed and handed the broken antler from his helmet to the victor.
The Hound snorted, tossing the antler into the crowd, sparking a scramble for the gold, until Lord Renly walked into the crowd to calm them down and restore order.
In the end, only four remained in the arena: the Hound, his monstrous brother Gregor, the Kingslayer Jaime Lannister, and a masked knight clad in silver and blue armor.
No one knew who the masked knight was, but his agile movements and unmatched strength displayed throughout the day made everyone wary.
He had defeated three Kingsguard in the morning with ease.
Such formidable skills immediately caught everyone's attention. From his voice, it was evident that the knight was a young man, and some even speculated that he might not yet be of age...
It was a bit exaggerated, but the noble girls present began to fantasize about the masked knight, captivated by his voice alone.
They imagined what handsome face might lie beneath that silver lion-like dragon helmet.
Among them, Sansa Stark, daughter of Eddard Stark, was the most infatuated.
Sansa was a classic beauty, inheriting the delicate cheekbones, clear blue eyes, and luscious auburn hair of the Tully family from her mother. She had a slender and graceful figure, exuding femininity.
When she saw the masked knight effortlessly unhorse yet another opponent with swift and precise strikes, without causing any harm, she excitedly turned to her friend, Jeyne, the daughter of Winterfell's steward, and said.
"Isn't he splendid? He defeats each opponent so easily, yet none of them are injured. He is so powerful, yet so merciful, a true knight."
She thought back to the bloody scenes on the field earlier, besides the Mountain killing one opponent, several knights were splattered with blood on the field, and there were even more dead horses.
She had always believed that knightly tournaments should be noble and graceful competitions, not turned into slaughterhouses by barbarians.
She clasped her hands to her face, tilting her head as she indulged in her imagination.
"Jeyne, what do you think his face looks like under the helmet? He must be quite young and handsome.
He must have a heavy past, which is why he always wears a mask and refuses to reveal his true face."
"He could also be very ugly, or have a long scar on his face," Jeyne teased her, "otherwise why would he keep his face covered all the time?"
"Don't be silly, Jeyne," Sansa scolded her slightly petulantly, "the masked knight couldn't possibly be ugly.
His voice is so melodious, even Prince Joffrey is not comparable to him. Oh, he must be even more handsome than Joffrey."
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