No, thankfully

You have heard of stories and great tales where executions were interrupted by people who unexpectedly come to the victim's aid at the last minute. This is not one of those tales. Joffrey can only sputter and scream into his gag as he is bound to the block.

Robb only chuckles when Joffrey cannot get anything out. "That's just what I was expecting you to say," he mutters in amusement, earning a wave of laughs from the people gathered. Unlike Joffrey, however, no one is laughing AT the King of the North.

From where she stands, Sansa locks eyes with her older brother for a moment. A knowing look passes between the Stark siblings, as justice is at last about to be served after far too long.

As Robb turns back to Joffrey, Sansa draws closer to you and Margaery. She shifted from holding hands with you to wrapping an arm around your waist, laying her head on your shoulder. You are happy your new "sister" trusts in you so much.

"Finally," she whispers. "Justice for Father."

Robb proceeds to take up Ice in both hands, and he moves to a position beside the bound and diapered deposed king. He proceeds to raise the Valyrian steel greatsword over his head. "This is for my father, our slaughtered vassals, and the bastards Robert Baratheon sired."

After holding Ice in the air for a full ten seconds, he swung Ice through the air.

Sansa winces and shuts her eyes as Ice strikes home. She clings a little more tightly to you, as well. You know the elder Stark daughter hates blood and ****, even when it is justified and necessary. Amid the howls, taunts, and cheers of the commonfolk of King’s Landing, she finds your warmth and closeness comforting. Cersei is shrieking and sobbing into her gag, and Sansa recalls how not so long ago their places had been the opposite.

Joffrey's head is split asunder from his sternum under the blade of Ice. It soon comes rolling off until it lands a few feet away from the rest of his body. A round of cheering and applause from the commonfolk soon follows.

Cersei nearly faints when the sword descends. But rather than pass out, she loses all function in her body and collapses. She is caught by Brienne, who only catches her out of duty to Queen Margaery. It is then that Cersei finally begins wetting her own diaper.

“I’m glad it’s over,” Sansa whispers to you and Margaery. “Though I do wish they’d get her out of here,” she adds, referring to Cersei. “The sight and sound of her, humiliated or not, still makes me sick.”

"I would have to agree," says Margaery. "On that note, we have yet to decide Cersei's fate. Brynden, what do you think would be a suitable punishment for this incestuous whore?"