He's just cheated on his longtime best friend. He needs a moment.

Eddard jerked back as if scalded. What... what have I done? he thought. "So you see," said Cersei, pausing ever now and then to lick at his seed hungrily, "we can both be of great use to each other..." Not bothering to reply he strolled from the tent, remembering, dully, to tuck his cock back in his breeches when the cool night air hit it.

Robert... I must tell Robert... he thought, then shuddered. Tell him what? That he'd cuckolded him? He felt a weak fool, as he made his way to the King's tent, quietly opening a flap. The sound of drunken revelry reached his ears, as he cautiously made his way forward, his mind a fog. It was pierced by a sudden shrill cry by a familiar voice. "Ooooh! Ohh! Your Grace! Not... there!"

It... it can't be... thought Eddard glancing ahead, even as if he knew on some horrible level it was. And it was. Sansa lay naked on the table before the King, as Robert manhandled her young breasts, and **** his rigid cock up her virgin asshole. "It's the... unngh... royal prerogative!" grunted Robert, as Sansa's round asscheeks slapped against his thighs. "Gods, you're so tight..."

Eddard realized that they didn't even know he was there, and left quietly. He moved swiftly to his tent, where he hoped against hope that Cersei remained. And to his surprise, she was sliding into her robe. "Your Grace," he said softly, "my apologies for... my abrupt departure. I needed to clear my head."

Cersei regarded him levelly, green eyes sparkling in the darkness. "And did you?"

"Most certainly," answered Ned with a nod. "And I agree with you. We can be of great use to each other."