You don't choose

You woke sweating like a pig roasting over a fire. The mourning light were showing giving you a kick to get ready for the tourney. The gear you had were old armor from your father battle against the Targaryens. You were told that the horse and lances will be giving to poor people that couldn't afford good gear. You had your rusted lance and Sally your horse.

Today you figure out if you can complete against all of the men from big houses or get hurt from them men. You got ready by putting on the chest plate first then the legs guards. Then you put on your leather boots.

You walk outside to see the bar woman making jokes at the new arrivals. When she saw you leaving she wink at you knowing the bet. You left your remaining money beneath the bed honoring the bet you two made.

..........................................................

You sat as a man gave you sheet of paper telling you were going last against a pleasant boy. You knew that the poor folk were going to enter but you thought you weren't have to face them in the first round. The boy that you were going to fight look at you with crying eyes. He look like he were going to cry and puke at the same time.

You got up from the stone bench getting your horse ready for the oncoming jousting. She nuzzle at you endearingly. You smile waiting upon your names to be call.