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Cersei I

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Cersei I At the last small council meeting Cersei Lannister had been a part of, she was the Queen Regent with supreme power. Now she was led in like an impotent pawn.The small council chambers were cold though flames crackled in three separate fireplaces, and through the frost-covered windows, Cersei could see the dark, overcast morning. The look the Regent met her with was not much warmer.Mace Tyrell, Lord Regent and Protector of the Realm, was seated at the head of the table, brow furrowed forbiddingly, arms crossed defiantly at her entry. Lord Randyll Tarly was made of ice beside him. Ser Harys Swyft sat timidly near a fire, stroking his white puff of a beard, his eyes failing to meet Cersei’s; clearly the simpering fool had contrived to keep the lord treasurer position she had seen fit for him. Qyburn’s kindly attendance surprised her as well; her late uncle had said her master of whisperers had been removed from office though had still been permitted to work with his little birds, but now it appeared he had been readmitted to the meetings, at least. The fifth councilor at the table was somehow the queerest addition of all; a woman, and by the looks of her deep black eyes, long dark braid, and clear olive skin, a Dornishwoman at that. She reminded Cersei of the lovely Taena of Myr who had been her close friend and confidant. Perhaps the gouty Prince Doran had not been hale enough to make the long journey from Sunspear to take up his advisory position, instead sending this stunning surrogate. No doubt the constipated grimace on Lord Regent Tyrell’s face was partly due to this Martell inclusion.“Queen Cersei,” Tyrell grumbled through his triangular-shaped beard, “Today is the day of your trial before the Faith of the Seven. You stand accused of grievous crimes, regicide, deicide, adultery, fornication, incest, and worst of all, high treason, high treason against my darling daughter Margaery, the true and rightful queen. We have called you before us to ensure that you play no tricks when you face your judgement at the Great Sept of Baelor.”Cersei considered the fat Lord of Highgarden with a look of simple sweetness. “Lord Regent, I have sinned, and I have confessed the crimes for which I am guilty to the High Septon himself, and the other charges leveled against me are mere calumnies by jealous men and grasping cretins. I mean to be judged as meekly and mildly as the Maiden. There will be no more tricks from me, on that you have my word.”“You have confessed to fornication, adultery, and incest only,” Tyrell reminded her. “The other accusations will not be so easily swept away, especially the ones against my own family and blood.”Cersei bowed her head solemnly. “I know the Crone will guide us all the way to starry wisdom.”The council watched her. Looks were exchanged.Qyburn was the first to speak up, “My Lord Regent, if it please you.”“It certainly does not please me, you maker of monsters,” Lord Mace blustered. “It waswith your sorcerous words that you led this silly woman to scheme and spread lies about Queen Margaery and put her in unjust chains. You have been permitted a place on this council temporarily until my word to Highgarden can bring my uncle Garth here as Lord Hand and Oldtown can raise the Archmaester Gormon to Grand Maester to replace that devious lickspittle Pycelle. When the full council is assembled, we will find a new spymaster worthy of the title.”Randyll Tarly leaned in. “Lord Tyrell, mayhaps we can hear from the Citadel’s ex-pet. His whispers and birds have certainly served us well since Ser Kevan’s death.”Tyrell groused, “I suppose.”“Thank you, Lord Regent,” Qyburn smiled, “There is very little that the queen can do by way of ruses. It appears that the Faith has served to humble her, and the three dedicated septas they sent have certainly kept her chaste, and our High Septon is no man to be tricked, as holy a fellow as ever opened The Seven-Pointed Star, a barefoot Hugor of the Hill reborn. The queen’s champion will stand for her and defend her against the allegations, and the Seven Above will hand down their shining decision.”“Her champion,” Tyrell harrumphed. “Your creature, you mean.”“Ser Robert is an unpresuming knight come to stand for the honor of his queen.”Before Tyrell could stammer out a red-faced retort, the woman spoke up. “I have somequestions about this champion as well, Lord Qyburn.” That left Cersei nonplussed. Since when have the Dornish and the Tyrells ever shared a similar thought, besides the thought of one leaving the other with a slit throat. “Why does this big unpresuming knight in the closed helm seem to bear such a striking resemblance to the same man whose head Dorne was sworn was delivered to Sunspear by the noble Ser Balon?”“Lady Nymeria,” responded Qyburn, “Surely you do not believe Her Grace played you false.”“The same Lannister who stands before us charged with more crimes than Dorne has scorpions? Surely.”Qyburn searched for an answer, but this Nymeria continued, “Yes, kingslaying and septon- smothering are considered dreadful where I am from, as well as sending young girls to their slaughter, but fornication? No, no. Nothing of the sort would ever be considered criminal in Dorne. Men and women are equal before the law, in rights and in inheritance, high and low.”Tarly scoffed. “What types of absurd laws are these?”“Dornish law,” she snapped at him. She then turned her gaze to Cersei. “Should Her Grace escape the High Sparrow with her head, she would do well to consider that.”When Cersei realized she was being addressed, her eyes went wide, startled. “I... I will take what you have said into consideration, my lady, but forgive me, I have not yet had the privilege.”“I am Nymeria Sand,” she proclaimed, “the daughter of Prince Oberyn Martell, who died at the hands of Ser Gregor Clegane, the Mountain That Rides.”“I remember that terrible day, my lady,” Cersei said sadly.“Thank you for the effort of remembrance, Your Grace,” Nymeria said with venom, “but please take something else under your royal consideration. If the face beneath the helm of Ser Robert Strong is revealed as anyone except Ser Robert Strong, the truth will go to Dorne.”“It will mean little and less after today,” Randyll Tarly broke in. “This Ser Robert may be enormous, but no man can stand three trials by combat in a single go. No man, I say. He will slip up, soon or late.”Cersei could not keep quiet any longer. “Lady Nymeria, we were promised by Prince Doran that my daughter Mycella would be returned to us on your arrival. So much has been kept for me in my chastisement.”“Myrcella and her betrothed Prince Trystane have made it to this foul city, yes, and the princess is well, I assure you,” she told her, “Save for the scar she bears from the rogue Gerold Dayne called Darkstar. My sister Obara is racing west through the deserts of Dorne as we speak, to smoke him out of his lair at High Hermitage. His black heart may be beating in her hands at this very moment.”“I will pray for her swift success,” Cersei said, finally relieved. She then beseeched Mace Tyrell. “Lord Regent, I beg your approval to go and see my daughter before my trial. Please, I beg of you, my lord. Her and her brother. I have not been permitted to see King Tommen either since my uncle’s murder. I swear no ploys.” Cersei wanted nothing more than to hold Myrcella and run her hands through her curly golden hair.“I fear not. This is my command” Tyrell said chillily, “As well as the command of the High Septon,” he did not fail to note. “It would not be proper to place these wholesome children in your questionable company until your verdict is rendered. We have even separated the king with his unspoiled young sister so he may not pollute her soul with the horrors he undoubtedly witnessed under your motherly care.”Cersei hung her head dourly.Then Harys Swyft managed to raise his voice. “My lord, it’s the matter of Ser Kevan and Grand Maester Pycelle we still need to bring before the queen. We must needs know the measure of danger we are in.”Tarly grunted laughter at the little man. “What does it matter to you, Swyft? You will be on a ship bound for Braavos to treat with the Iron Bank before too long.”“Before too long is not soon enough with a murderer lurking about,” bristled Swyft. “I’ve doubled my guard, as I suggest you do, my lord, but who can truly defend themselves from assassins in the walls?”“A Tarly man will do no such cowardly thing,” Lord Randyll announced ruggedly.“No doubt, no doubt,” Tyrell said, though Cersei had not failed to note his quadrupled guard outside the council chambers. “But yes, there is still the other matter we brought her here for. Queen Cersei, did you play any roles in the slaying of your uncle and the maester? Possibly to cause chaos before your proceedings.”Cersei was utterly astounded. “How can you think I took any part when I have been surrounded by septas for months? I am watched day and night by novices. How could I? Why would I? Yes, Ser Kevan and I had our quarrels and disagreements, but he protected me. He was the one who returned to the city to see to my wellbeing when so many others abandoned me, when my own twin brother and Lord Commander of my son’s Kingsguard abandoned me. Believe me, I would never have dreamed of harming him or the good maester. They defended me, and now it seems as if I have no other defenders besides the good Ser Robert Strong whose uprightness you never fail to question.” She began to cry.“No, no, no, Your Grace,” Ser Harys quailed. “We didn’t mean to accuse you, but we simply needed to be sure before... if you... if you were...”“If you were not to return,” Randyll Tarly finished, with stony bluntness. “Your Grace, we have Red Ronnet rushing south to meet the Targaryen pretenders laying siege to Storm’s End, we have Ironborn pillaging the Reach, we have Stannis Baratheon threatening Roose Bolton’s hold on the North, and we still have your brother Jaime missing in the Riverlands, presumed dead, mind you, with lawless brigands attacking Lannisters and Freys every day. And winter is upon us. Winter is upon us with a killer in the castle. We must know for a certainty that you had nothing to do with this.”“I vow to you by the Seven, Lord Tarly,” Cersei told him, wiping the tears from her cheeks.Tarly snorted and looked at Tyrell. “There you have it. I didn’t believe it for a moment. That butchery was far too brutal for a woman. If it had been poison, that might be a case against her, or the Dornish.” Nymeria shot him a toxic glare, but he continued, “And when she’s gone, we will know for sure. That is if any more corpses turn up.”“And if she does return, Lord Tarly?” bellowed Tyrell.“I say again, it makes no matter how large this peculiar hero of hers is. He will fall and she will die.”“And once she is gone, we will be unrestrained to deal with Aegon Targaryen to the south,” Swyft added.“A feigned boy, I tell you. Say the word, Lord Tyrell, and I will wipe him and that degenerate Connington off the board for good and all,” Tarly promised.“Once Margaery is proved innocent, we will do just that,” said Tyrell. “My army will be preoccupied for her trial on the morrow should this High Sparrow plan any betrayals.”“Whatever the outcome, you must believe me that I had nothing to do with Ser Kevan, Lord Tyrell, you must. I could never have my children believe such filth about me,” Cersei pleaded to him.“I believe the woman,” said Nymeria, “and I look forward to speaking with you upon your triumphant return, Your Grace.”Tyrell and Tarly shot each other vexed glances.“Th... thank you, my lady,” she said, taking a deep breath.“Now you must be gone, Your Grace,” Mace Tyrell said. “Your septas will have need ofyou before you leave the castle.”Cersei curtsied and exited like a servant.Without, Unella, Moelle, and Scolera waited for her as they always did.“Septas, I am ready,” Cersei told them“The gods will decide how ready you are when the day is done,” the big-boned Unellascowled with her homely face.The three septas led her from the small council chambers. The morning sky was stillheavily clouded, and light snowflakes were falling, but the worst of the snows from last night had passed. Paths had been shoveled through the huge snowdrifts that covered the outer yard, the middle bailey, and the serpentine steps where the thick-waisted Scolera nearly took a tumble until Cersei caught her arm and helped to straighten her. The septa gave her a sour acknowledgement, and they continued their silent way into the lower bailey toward Maegor’s Holdfast.As they approached, Cersei noticed servants and patrols moving in pairs or threes. One of the few bits of information she had gathered in her confinement was Lord Tyrell’s decree that all must travel in groups throughout the castle because of the villain at large. Two days past, Cersei had seen from the window in her bedroom Lord Tyrell trudging by in a mass of green and gold bodies, surrounded by armed sentries. The sight disturbed Cersei to no end.Once the septas had returned Cersei to her boudoir in Maegor’s, her novices prepared her for her trial. The freckle-faced novice unbuttoned her black gown, removed her hooded black mantle that covered her shaved head, and slipped off her cotton-lined shoes, the dark-haired, round-cheeked novice helped her into the hot water of her tub and scrubbed her for the second time today, and once clean, the tall, pock-marked novice helped her into a long-sleeved white woolen shift that went down to her bare feet. As they went about their work, Cersei reflected on the small council meeting. She had not learned any information on what was happening in the realm since the night Ser Kevan died, and the very next day, Tommen had been taken from her. After that, her three novices had remained as tight-lipped as their precious maidenhoods between their legs. Myrcella is home though, she rejoiced, She is home and safe and close, and Tommen has not been harmed by that by that loutish buffoon Tyrell either, it seems. Jamie was still lost, it was true, but it mattered little. When he stranded her to her fate, a stronger, more deadly warrior took his place. The Dornish bastard was interesting as well. A woman on the council almost made Lord Tarly pop, and a Martell could make a decisive ally against the ever- growing Tyrell garden. But what was all her talk about law and inheritance and the rights of women? I must speak further with this Lady Sand as soon as I can.When the novices were finished, the three septas came forward. Cersei and the girls knelt before them.The prayers were always the same. The Prayer of the Maiden. Moelle recited the words sternly as if she was tasting something bitter, and Cersei answered with all the appropriate responses. At its conclusion, they all implored, “May the Father Above protect us from the Lord of Seven Hells.”Cersei could not help but ask, “Septas, will you accompany me to Baelor’s?”“We will not,” Unella told her. “We were given charge of the virtue of the castle, to oversee your chasteness, abstinence, and moral integrity as you awaited your trial, along with Queen Margaery and her cousins in Lord Tyrell’s quarters. When you go, we will see to the others for their day of judgement on the morrow.” Then she looked to the novices still kneeling, “And seven days are up. If you return, Your Grace, you will have new novices lest you corrupt their virginal souls.”They led Cersei back into winter, her feet numb from the slush. A knight met them at the portcullis. Ser Theodan Wells the True, Cersei knew, the pious Commander of the Warrior’s Son who had escorted her on her walk of atonement.“Your Grace,” Ser Theodan said courteously, “I have come again, but now I escort you to your inquiry before the seven faces of gods, and I...”The knight stopped suddenly, dumbfounded by what he saw approaching. Cersei could not see Ser Robert, but she could feel his footsteps quaking the ground beneath her, and Wells’s stunned expression was all the confirmation she needed.“My champion, Ser Theodan,” Cersei told him. “Will you be one of my accusers taking up arms, ser?”Wells snapped out of it and looked back at Cersei, clearly shaken. “I... I will, Your Grace.” “May the Warrior give you vigor and may the Crone light us all the way to the truth.”Ser Robert Strong arrived beside her. Eight feet tall he was, with legs as thick as trees, a chest worthy of a plow horse, and shoulders that would not disgrace an ox. His armor was steel plate enameled in white over gilded mail, and his greatsword hung at his hip as if it were a dagger. A greathelm hid his face, with seven silken plumes in the rainbow colors of the Faith streaming from its crest. A pair of golden seven-pointed stars clasped his white cloak to his shoulders.She was led on with Ser Robert marching beside her while Theodan was left frozen where he stood.The septas helped Cersei into her old familiar wheelhouse where she rode alone with the windows draped, alone for the first time since she languished in a cell in the Great Sept, and now she was heading back.As they went, she could see through the drape a shadow walking next to the wheelhouse, a giant shadow. The city was hidden to her, so she had no hint as to how many spectators lined the streets, hoping for a glimpse at the queen laid low, but she heard neither jeer nor shout nor any sound at all, which told her the way was deserted, no doubt from the cold, or else the hordes outside had been struck mute by her immense guardian. Regardless, she could not help but remember the eagerness of the commonfolk to look upon her naked shame and hurl insults as well as filth.Soon, the street angled upward, and before too long, they arrived atop Visenya’s Hill, and the door opened. If Cersei thought few had come out, she had never been more wrong. Where a few thousand ragged sparrows had congregated around the Great Sept of Baelor before, now a full-fledged Faith Militant army that rivaled even Mace Tyrell’s stood assembled in the white marble plaza. Oh, they hadn’t flown away, she thought, they were simply admiring Ser Robert.Ser Theodan helped her down as Cersei stared up at the imposing sept. They passed by the statue of Baelor, tall and serene on its plinth, and through the hushed throngs with Ser Robert stomping ominously behind them. They climbed the high steps and entered.The Hall of Lamps was just as packed. They passed beneath suspended globes of colored leaded glass and by still more awestricken flocks.Inside the massive sanctuary, all the wooden benches on the marble floors had been removed, and faint rainbows beamed in from great windows of leaded, colored glass. The sept was cramped with hundreds except for the space in the direct center, and that was where Ser Theodan ushered her.She stood with every eye upon her; not a soul made a sound. Most of the observers were Swords, Stars, or clergy of the Faith, but she also noticed the members of the small council at a place near the entrance, Mace Tyrell, Randyll Tarly, Harys Swyft, and Nymeria Sand.Then the Father’s Doors opened and in came the small, thin, hard-eyed, grey-haired, line- faced High Septon. The man was still barefoot, wearing a simple white wool tunic that went down to his ankles. He ascended the Father’s altar with a young woman with fair skin, dimpled cheeks, golden hair, and deep blue eyes; the picture of the Maiden herself.“Cersei of Houses Baratheon and Lannister, you stand inculpated of deicide, regicide, adultery, fornication, incest, and high treason. How do you choose to be appraised by the gods?”Cersei looked the old pious fool dead in the face and said, “I choose violence.”The crypt-like temple erupted into a furious uproar. The High Sparrow put his hands up and the clamor died down.“The hour has passed to add insolence to your offenses, but trial by combat, so be it. Your first incriminator has accused you of incest with his very person and your brother Ser Jaime the Kingslayer as well, adultery with his very person against the late King Robert Baratheon, and regicide when you convinced him to kill that same king. Come forward, Ser Lancel Lannister of the Warrior’s Sons.”Lancel emerged from the crowd, with a rainbow cloak and sword belt, inlaid silver plate armor (over a hair shirt, she knew), a kite shield displaying the rainbow sword shining through the darkness, and a longsword with a crystal in its pommel as well as in the crest of the greathelm he held under his arm. The strong and handsome youth she remembered was now a ghastly gaunt ghost, the sandy hair that had reminded her so much of Jaime’s on many a lonely night was now sheered to a bristly pate, and the radiant green eyes of Lannister now hollow and vacant. She had seen him briefly in this new solemn state when he had come to the Red Keep with his new brothers, but now the full view left her thrown. He dropped to his knees before the High Septon.When it was time, a septon in tattered garb appeared before her. She recognized Septon Raynard of the Most Devout, and he led her out of the way, not unkindly.Ser Robert Strong took his place, Lancel rose and lowered his helm onto his head, and the battle commenced.Lancel lifted his sword and shield and solidly stood his ground, but Ser Robert strode forward hulkingly as if there was nothing more in front of him than a babe in arms. Lancel slashed, but Strong used his shield to knock the longsword away, clear out of Lancel’s gauntlet. Lancel watched his weapon fly across the sept, but when he looked back, Ser Robert was towering over him. Strong clutched the top of Lancel’s greathelm and ripped it off his head. The face gaping up at the giant knight was anything but faithful. Robert slashed, and when the severed top of Ser Lancel Lannister’s skull splattered at Cersei’s feet, she stepped back, untroubled.“Innocent,” the High Septon declared, as if he was pleased. The woman behind him was smiling as well. “Of regicide, incest, and adultery. Your next incriminator has accused you of fornication with his very person and his brothers Osmund and Osfryd Kettleblack, and deicide when you commanded him to murder the former High Septon. Though a false believer he was, he still spoke for the gods. Come forward, Ser Osney of House Kettleblack.”As the silent sisters dragged Lancel out, Ser Osney was dragged in.“No! Gods, no!” he bawled. “I retract my accusations! I retract all my accusations! I was tortured! Tortured! It never happened! Please gods, it never happened!”“Every accusation the queen faces now, you are directly implicated in, Ser Osney. There could be no more refined form of judgement. The Seven Above will be allowed to speak, make no mistake.”Osney was dumped in the excess mess of Ser Lancel. The tall, hook-nosed, dark-haired amorous, amiable boy who had so longed for Cersei’s favor was now trembling with fear. Fearing is the first sage act this dolt has ever done.Her accuser for deicide and fornication drew his sword and charged wildly, weeping frenzied fury, and when Ser Robert tore him from groin to heart, Cersei had never felt more holy. “Innocent,” the High Sparrow declared again, clearly reveling in the discernment of the deities. “Of deicide and fornication. Your next incriminator has accused you of high treason for conspiring to frame Queen Margaery of Houses Baratheon and Tyrell for fornication, adultery, and the high treason of plotting to depose her husband King Tommen Baratheon.”To Ser Theodan’s credit, he neither squalled like Osney nor gawked like Lancel. Cersei had spied him studying Strong as he made short grizzly work of Lannister and Kettleblack alike. The devoted knight even managed to keep Ser Robert at bay for a time, blocking his fearsome blows with his rainbow shield and parrying his hacks with his crystal sword, albeit with much exertion. Ser Theodan the True was a truehearted man of faith, but he was soon shrieking like a little girl. He acts as if he has never lost an arm, Cersei mused morbidly, and Ser Robert made a prompt crunching end to it when his boot broke Wells’s neck.“Queen Cersei, you have been found innocent of high treason,” the wretched High Sparrow quorked, “As well as the rest of the claims that were laid against you. You may go a free woman, absolved in the eyes of the gods.”Every voice in the sept lifted, “And the gods be good,” the fair girl next to him loudest of all.Cersei genuflected and said, “Thank you, Your High Holiness. It was an honor for justice to be done.”“Thank the gods. This was their doing,” the High Sparrow spat at her and exited with the blond woman going with him.Oh yes, she thought, and what happens next will be all my doing.She made for the exit with Ser Robert stalking to her right. When she looked to wherethe small council members had been, they were already gone. The rose wilts quickly in the cold, she quipped to herself. It was all too sweet; with her complete absolution, Margaery’s guilt was a forgone conclusion before gods and men. If Cersei was innocent of high treason, then Margaery’s sin was presumed. She would no doubt be put to death; surely Tyrell and Tarly were off to muster their forces to try as they may to prevent that. I must move fast.As Ser Robert helped her into her wheelhouse, Cersei noted the seven slender towers of the sept seemed far less imposing than before, but before the door closed behind her, an olive- skinned hand caught it, and Nymeria Sand hoped in as boldly as she pleased. Cersei was taken aback but was still amused by this audacious Dornishwoman.“I must congratulate Your Grace,” she said. “I knew the lies against you were unfounded as many are against powerful women. May I ride with you back to the keep.”“The gods have been good, and yes, you may,” she told her. “I believe the two of us have much and more to speak of.”“Of Trystane and Myrcella for a certainty. Consider for a moment if Myrcella was queen in place of King Tommen. I mean no harm to your beloved son, but whether Myrcella is a queen or Tommen is a king makes no matter for Your Grace. In either circumstance, you would Lady of Casterly Rock.”Cersei tingled with desire. “I see, and this would be Dornish law?”“Of the Rhoynar of the Mother Rhoyne, and Westerosi law on one day may become Dornish on the next, at the command of a monarch, and our King Tommen is so puissant and astute and knows what is best for the realm.”“Yes,” Cersei reflected, “Oh, yes, he does.”“But we must move quickly to secure the two of them. Even now thorny Highgardeners rush to rally their infantry. They mean to do away with his High Sparrow and his vast herds, and then take Tommen and Myrcella in hand as well as my nephew Prince Trystane.”“Leave that to me, Lady Sand,” Cersei told her, “I have longed for this moment for quite a while.”Back at the Red Keep, the scene was downright mayhem. Highgarden guards argued with Poor Fellows, Horn Hill men shoved Warrior’s Sons, septas and Tyrell serving maids ran about like chickens, and gold cloaks did what they could to keep the peace while Dornishmen laughed and egged them on. Cersei moved through the chaos with Ser Robert Strong at her side, no one daring to cross her.She found Qyburn at the drawbridge to the castle-within-a-castle.“Your Grace, I am gladdened to see you freed,” he said tenderly.“I owe you many thanks, Lord Qyburn,” Cersei told him. “The first of which is to reinstateyou to your position as master of whisperers.”“I shall not fail you, Your Grace.”“And now I must needs hold my long-lost daughter in my arms.”“At once, Your Grace. We owe Lady Nymeria many thanks.”“Many more than that, I would say.”“I took the liberty of inspecting Princess Myrcella. The wound is not so bad as Ser Balonhad us worry. It has healed well and can be concealed behind her straight yellow hair.” Straight? Cersei thought, confused. Myrcella has curly hair, and not yellow but glimmeringgold like mine. Mayhaps it was nothing.“And I would suggest Your Grace keeps Lady Nymeria on the small council. She is learned beyond her years, and cunning. I’m sure Your Grace and her will become fast friends.”“Oh, I’m certain of it.”When they entered Maegor’s, Ser Boros Blount was with the king. Tommen ran to Cersei in a breathless flash, with tears in his eyes.“Mother, you won your trial?”“Yes, darling one, your mother has been vindicated, and she will never let anything awful befall you again.”“And Margaery?”Poor child, Cersei thought, this will surely go painfully for him, but she said, “We must wait for the ruling from the High Septon before we know Margaery’s destiny.” Then she handed Tommen over into the care of his nursemaid, and Ser Boros went with them, looking sicker and slouchier than ever.Ser Meryn Trant was with the princess. Her daughter was practicing her needlework as Cersei sped across the room to her. The girl looked bewildered when Cersei threw her arms around her and squeezed her tight. The queen never intended on letting her go ever again. Then she looked upon Myrcella’s face.The scar was bad, yes, but nothing they could not conceal with a hair styling and a skin- colored bandage, as Qyburn suggested, and then she and Prince Trystane could be wed, and she and Lady Nymeria could...Cersei paused, hazy for a moment. The hair, straight and yellow, and the face... This girl was older too, almost two years older than Myrcella should be by now... No, no, no, I must be woozy from my victory, I must be... But no, I feel sober, I feel as clear headed as I had been when I was Queen Regent... That was when the realization dawned on her.This is not Myrcella.“Who are you?” she snapped at the imposter girl.The young stranger was staring up at her, shuddering.Cersei smacked her across the face. “Tell me who you are, girl! Tell me who you are rightthis instant!” She made to strike her again.“I’m Rosamund,” the girl said, sobbing. “I’m Rosamund Lannister. Of House Lannister ofLannisport.”Gods be good, Myrcella’s body double, Cersei registered, stupefied. The body double theImp had sent with her to evade capture by Stannis Baratheon, but now she has returned where Myrcella was promised.“What is this? Some sort of Dornish deceit? Where is my daughter?” She smacked her again, this time right across her repulsive scar.“I don’t know, Your Grace,” she mewled. “I never knew. Ser Arys never told me where he was taking Myrcella. He never said.”“Ser Arys? What does a slain coward have to do with this? You will answer me right now!” “I never knew, I never knew,” she wailed, falling to the floor.“Qyburn!” Cersei screamed, shooting around.“Yes, Your Grace,” the ex-maester said, disconcerted.“Who is this fraud?”“Your... your daughter, Your Grace.” He sounded genuinely addled. “The Princess Myrcella, returned from Sunspear.”“No,” she barked, “We have been hoodwinked. Find me that Dornish whore now. Bring her to me in fetters if need be. And her little prince too.”Qyburn bolted from the room without another word.She turned to Trant, still motionlessly standing by, but whether his stillness was from duty or terror she could not say. “Ser Meryn, have the drawbridge to Maegor’s drawn up. Permit entry and exit to Ser Robert and only those who I allow,” she commanded, “And find me the chief undergaoler of the dungeons.”“I will at once, Your Grace.”As Ser Meryn departed, Harys Swyft hurried in.“Your Grace,” the halfwit stammered, catching his breath. “There is turmoil in the castle,great turmoil.”“Tell me,” she said, “And calmly.”“Yes, Your Grace. It seems the Tyrells are quite intent on taking Queen Margaery out ofthe castle before her trial can be held, but the Warrior’s Sons and septas charged with her confinement in Lord Tyrell’s quarters are, shall we say, unwilling to let that come to pass, and the gold cloaks are at a loss for whose side they should take.”Perfect, Cersei thought.“Ser Harys, under no circumstance can the Highgarden harlot be allowed to evade her heavenly judges. She must plead her case before gods and men, as I was forced to do.”“But how can we convince the Lord Regent? He has an army.”“’Convince’ is no longer in my vocabulary.” She looked to Strong. “Ser Robert, you must ensure the good people of the Faith deliver Margaery and her cousins to the High Septon. See to it now and report to Rennifer Longwaters when it’s done. He will have another task for you.”The knight neither spoke nor bowed. He merely turned and treaded from the room. Ser Harys twittered out of his way, then continued, “Your Grace, this... this will lead to violence, violence in the castle, in the city... I must... I must...”“Have no fear, Ser Harys, you won’t be around for long.”“I won’t be, Your Grace?”“No. I have been away for a while, but I did overhear of your coming journey in the smallcouncil meeting. To Braavos to treat with our nettlesome debtors.”“I... I... Yes, I was...” seeing an easy out. “The Regent said that...”“Mace Tyrell is no longer Regent,” she growled. “No venal upjump will never be Regentagain. From this moment forward, I am the Queen Regent, and the only Regent, until the true heir comes of age.”Harys Swyft’s lip was quivering.“Be gone, Ser Harys. Be gone to Braavos. Go! Tonight!”Harys twitched, then scurried out.Cersei allowed herself a smile, content in her power, but then she heard an annoyingwhimpering coming from behind her. She turned to see the loathsome girl still sniveling into the carpet. This one knows more than she’s telling me.That was when Qyburn returned. “Where is this Lady Nymeria?”“Your Grace, I...”“Where is she?” she fumed.“Lady Nym is gone. And Prince Trystane as well. And the rest of the Dornish delegates.Vanished.”Cersei raged, gripping the Lannisport brat by the hair and yanking. Why would that Martelltrollop tell me of Dornish law and the rights of women if she meant to play me false with this hoax? “I want her found, you useless dolt,” she yelled, twisting the yellow locks as the girl screeched. “Inform the City Watch. I want every part of the city searched until she is found and brought to me alive and detain every Dornishmen you find. Start with the whorehouses.” She thrust the child toward him. “And take this freak from my presence and question her in your usual way.”Qyburn hurried over to the girl and gave her a kind word. The girl went with him willingly though she was convulsing.From outside the window, she heard a raucous. She peered out at the happenings in lower bailey. Several lied dead on the stones, but the day was dark and growing darker, and she could not discern if they were roses, huntsmen, swords, stars, gold cloaks, or gods know who else, and she still had much to do.She summoned Blount back with Tommen following behind.“Ser Boros, you are to stay with the king tonight. Do not let him out of your sight. There are backstabbing Dornish about. Take him to his room and do not leave without my approval.”“As you say, Your Grace,” he said glumly.“But mother, what about Margaery? And her cousins? And what happened to Rosamund? She was always fun to play with. She loves cats.”“Now, now, Tommen, you must be brave,” she told him. “In no time at all we will know the guilt or innocence of your pretty wife, but for now we must be patient. Patience is a virtue of the gods.”“I guess,” Tommen pouted.“Now take your kittens and return to your room with Ser Boros.”When they were gone, Cersei realized she was still barefoot and dressed in the whitewoolen shift that had been given to her by the vile septas. She ripped it off and threw it across the room, then slipped into a red silk robe and slippers. She poured herself a cup a wine and drank for the first time in months. It was soothing and soon quieted her aching mind.By the time her nerves were settled, the bentbacked Rennifer Longwaters entered, spots on his head and white hairs on his chin and all. He bowed with some difficulty. “What can this lowly gaoler do for Your Grace?”“How many prisoners under your charge do we have in the castle?”“We had two-and-ten, Your Grace, but the Blue Bard was transferred to the internment of the Faith. One-and-ten now.”“Osmund and Osfryd Kettleblack are still among them, I assume.”“They are, Your Grace, and it gladdens my heart that the charges against Your Grace, and by turns the Kingsguard and his brother, are now washed away.”“Yes, yes, but I’m afraid it’s not so simple. Not so simple, Longwaters. I’m afraid their real sins are too grim to scour. When Ser Robert Strong returns to the castle he must see to them... sharply.”“I... I see, Your Grace.” Longwaters shuffled uneasily. Cersei found that surpassingly irksome.“Make sure it be done.”“Aye, and the others, Your Grace? The other nine?”“They are all to be sent to the Wall immediately, before the dawn. And the Blue Bard,should he come wandering back. Their guilt cannot be questioned now. Let their freezing bodies be a reminder of Margaery’s many infidelities, even when she is headless and rotting.”“The Wall? Before dawn? But a ship won’t be prepared by...”“Then they shall ride.”“But all, Your Grace?” Rennifer asked, muddled. “But... But... I... I...”This doddering relic was irritating Cersei even further. “I.. I... I...” she mocked, “I willremind you, chief undergaoler, I am the queen, I am the Regent now. You will obey my orders, or you will be the next to face Ser Robert. They depart before the dawn or that’s what your head will do to your decrepit person. Is that understood?”“Yes, yes, Your Grace. Of course, of course.” The idiot slunk from the room.Cersei went back to the window. The commotion was obscured from her vantage point, so she took her wine and climbed to the roof of holdfast. The dusk was stormy as it had been for the last fortnight, with snows starting on and off. The snow had stopped for now, but the sky was certainly threatening more, and the cold winds were howling. Down below, Cersei could see the entire Red Keep sprawled out before her, and it was truly a delightful image; dead Tyrells, dead Tarlys, dead Warrior’s Sons, dead Poor Fellows, and dead City Watch, but she could not determine much else of what had happened. The fighting had certainly died down, it was plain to see, but the result was still uncertain. She thought to call for Pycelle, to get a full report on the clash, but she remembered he was no more, down in the seventh hell with her uncle and Lord Tywin. Suddenly she was filled with intense feelings of insecurity, anxiety, and exposure, and her head spun, and the bite in the air sent her to shivering. The assassin could be anywhere and anyone, and the suspects were countless, Tyrion, Jaime, Varys, the Tyrells, the Martells, the High Sparrow and his Faith Militant, Taena and Orton Merryweather, Aurane Waters, Stannis Baratheon, Ser Bronn, Sansa Stark wherever she was, even the commonfolk since her walk. So many had betrayed her and so many must now meet her vengeance. And then she could hear the Frog croaking, laughing...She left the roof quickly and returned to her quarters, sending Dorcas for Qyburn.When he arrived, he was contrite. “Your Grace, my sincerest apologies. I had no notion of the duplicity of the Dornish. The woman was offered safe conduct, and the Dornish had sworn to Lord Mace they would try no deceptions.”“Such is the way of the snake. Pay it no mind. I will make a pair of boots of Martell leather before the night is done. But what did this Rosamund have to say?”“Much and more, Your Grace,” Qyburn said. “She says that Ser Arys Oakheart conspired to foil a maneuver by Princess Arianne Martell to crown the real princess and use her as a game piece against Your Grace and King Tommen. Ser Arys disguised the true Myrcella as Lady Rosamund and sent her to a location that no one knew, not the Dornish, not young Rosamund, not even Oakheart himself, and he sent the princess’s septa and two Lannister guards with her. Princess Arianne took the bait and took the wrong girl into the desert only for the plan to be uncovered by Prince Doran and his sworn shield Areo Hotah. This Norvoshi axe man beheaded Ser Arys on the Greenblood, and Myrcella’s whereabouts went to his grave with him. Lady Nymeria must have been completely unaware of the Kingsguard’s designs and thought she was delivering the real Myrcella to King’s Landing on the orders of Prince Doran. Why else would she deliver us Prince Trystane as well? The girl also says that Lady Nym played no part in Princess Arianne’s plot, being imprisoned by Prince Doran during that same period. It appears to me the girl is telling the truth.”Cersei was not convinced, but it was quite a tale. “And you questioned this girl...” “Softly, Your Grace,” Qyburn said, “Oh, so softly.”That much was good, she may still have use for this yellow-haired, green-eyed Rosamundif what the Sand woman suggested could be achieved, but could she believe these confounding ramblings from a lesser house of Lannister? Could this Lady Nymeria truly be blameless of this gambit, ignorant to Ser Arys’s guile and heroism? Perhaps she could offer the Dornishwoman and Prince Doran’s son safe conduct once more, and she must command Myrcella’s actual identity be kept hidden before she spoke with Lady Nym again, but she was still swimming with uncertainty.“There are no other Dornish left in the castle?”“Gone with Nymeria Sand in the disarray, it would seem.”“Instruct Lord Commander Waters to call off his vulture hunt. Offer Sand guest right should she reemerge. We must bring them back into the fold.”“Very shrewd, Your Grace. It will be done.”“And how fares the rest of the castle?”“Ser Meryn has raised Maegor’s drawbridge and ordered the gates of the Red Keep bekept open so the fighting might flow out into the streets. It appears Ser Robert was able to get ahold of Queen Margaery, and her cousins were taken by members of the Warrior’s Sons. They were last seen leaving the castle ahorse, racing down Aegon’s High Hill for the Sept of Baelor in some haste. Tyrell cavalry were on them, but we do not know to what outcome.”“And Mace Tyrell? Where was he in all of this?”“My little birds informed me that immediately after your trial, Tyrell and Randyll Tarly ordered a battalion to enter the Red Keep and escort Queen Margaery out of the city. In the meantime, the lords made their way to marshal their sizeable armies.”“And which side did the City Watch take in the scuffle? Rainbow or rose?”“Both, it would appear. This new Lord Commander was elevated up by your late uncle, but it appears he may have deeper allegiances to the gods. He and his gold cloaks helped Ser Robert and the Swords abscond with Margaery every step of the way, but Mace Tyrell had also filled the City Waych of hundreds of Reachermen when he assumed the Handship and then the Regency. There are gold cloaks fighting gold cloaks as Tyrells fight Sparrows. Outright bedlam, Your Grace.”Her heart was soaring, but she asked, “Who still remains in the castle?”“Ser Boros, Ser Meryn, the king, your personal guard and the other Westermen your uncle arrived with. I saw Ser Harys hurrying to his rooms quite urgently.”“Let Ser Harys leave unmolested. He has pressing business out of state.”“As you command, Your Grace.”“Is there anyone else left in the castle, Qyburn?”“Just the usual servants and maids, and some of the septas and novices that were withyou during your captivity.”Cersei smirked at that. “If the fighting is fully off the grounds, close the portcullis... Andround up these holy women and have them readied for my questions, and these questions will not be as soft as they were for Lady Rosamund.”Qyburn shared her grin and took his leave.Cersei was exulting. She would have everything she wanted. Margaery would be gone, and Tyrell would be dead, hopefully not before trampling the High Sparrow under his stallion. She was refilling her glass when Ser Robert entered. Dozens of rents covered his tremendous armor, and his longsword was soaked in blood, but the colossal knight did not seem to notice. He clutched a sack with two round objects visible at its bottom, dripping gooey. He threw the sack on the floor with a thud. Three brothers in one day, she thought. Such a pity.As she sipped her wine and gazed out at King’s Landing, she saw the first fires spring up over walls. She wanted desperately to know more of what was happening in the city when Dorcas stepped in. The big girl winced at the gory sack, but she composed herself and said, “Your Grace, Ser Humfrey Waters, Lord Commander of the City Watch is without.”“Send him in.”Lord Commander Waters was covered in blood and ash. At least he had the grace to ignore the Kettleblack heads on the floor.“Lord Commander, how fares the city?”“Your Grace, it is total havoc. The fighting started inside the castle, but it spread throughout the entire city when the Warrior’s Sons took Lady Margaery and her cousins. The girls were transported to the Great Sept unharmed, but I can’t speak for after that. Then it was nothing short of battle on Visenya’s Hill between Faith Militant and Tyrell. After the trial, Lord Mace and Randyll Tarly went to form up their full strength. Tyrell was hot-headed and gave no order but attack. He took control of his portion of the forces and charged heedlessly toward the Great Sept. That was when Lord Tarly deserted through the King’s Gate.”Cersei guffawed. “Deserted? The fierce bannerman to Highgarden tucked tail?”“All reports from the walls agree, Your Grace, but Tyrell attacked, nonetheless. Fighting raged between rose and sparrow for hours, entire districts are destroyed, hundreds are dead, if not thousands, and the fighting continues. And the Poor Fellows, Your Grace, the Poor Fellows. Lord Tyrell’s army was better armed, and the Warrior Son’s had armor at least, but the Poor Fellows were mostly in rags, but they came on despite it. They came on by mobs and mobs, and were slaughtered by the Tyrells in turn, though even that didn’t slow them. There was some strange madness on the sparrows, it was clear to see. Now, fires are springing up all over the city, and the Watch does not have enough men to put them all out, especially since many of the Watch have taken either Tyrell’s side or the High Sparrow’s. Riots are breaking out, and rapes and home invasions. There are even fires creeping up Visenya’s Hill toward the Great Sept atop.”“Our Lord Tyrell should have little desire for the sept to burn down with his pretty little Margaery within.”“Lord Tyrell is laying siege to the sept at this very moment and must surely means to march on the Red Keep once he is done, especially if Queen Margaery were not to survive.”“Let the traitor come. I always knew the Tyrells would sooner have Tommen’s head on a spike than for their little slut to face justice.”“Your Grace, the Watch does not have the men to defend the castle if the Tyrells or the Swords come knocking.”“Bring what loyal men you can to defend the castle and take what Lannister forces are here to augment yours.”“Aye, Your Grace, but it may make no difference.”She could see the Great Sept from the window. The reports of fires were well founded, they burned almost halfway up the hill, spewing black smoke up as heavy snow was beginning to fall.“We must keep the king safe,” she said absently, “We must do everything we can to keep the king...”The room shook. Cersei dropped her glass, and Waters stumbled over. Blinding bright emerald light filled the room, and the castle tremored ever more violently.At Visenya’s Hill, a massive plume of jade fire was erupting into the sky where the Great Sept of Baelor stood moments earlier. The seven slender towers turned to dust, and hundreds of glowing lime comets shot up into the night, then rained down on the city. The whole hill was engulfed in the raging inferno. The heat was pressing on her face even from here. The screams of half a million filled the blizzarding twilit city now alight with blazing hell. Wildfire, she thought, and how beautiful it is, as green and brilliant as a young girl’s eyes.

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