If you want a Queen, earn her
"So, which news do you bring from Bronn?" the Queen asked, sitting on her Iron Throne.
She was sipping wine, not caring for a moment about her pregnancy, as if the drink had the power to erase the bad taste of the pirate's kisses.
Qyburn took some steps forward, climbing the steps that separated him from the throne. As expected, the Mountain did not try to oppose that proximity.
"Just like you said, Your Grace, I easily found him in one of the brothels… Not exactly in the right state of mind to hear about politic"
That answer made appear a smirk on her face. Not for the predictable scene of the warrior surrounded by prostitutes, but actually for the destain about that life style which was evident in her Hand's voice. His brilliant mind was the reason why she admired him, his lack of moral scruples the reason why she trusted him, but it was surely his being so smug about the most trivial aspects of life that made him somehow dear to her. Not only she had discovered that he was useful, but curiosly he was one of the few persons she had actually grown fond of.
"Not all human beings can live of only science, Maester Qyburn" she commented, turning the smirk into a brief and ironic laugh.
"I am not against sexual relationships, I am just against the idea of a brothel" he replied, hinting a smile as well, feeling the need to clarify his position. "A young woman had expressed some interest for me, but clearly she had given herself before to someone with syphilis"
Now Cersei seemed interested, as her eyebrow suggested; she even put her wine down, allowing him all her attention. She had never considered her Hand in that way, and yet she did not find hard to believe that women and not only prostitues could be attracted to him. After all, if she herself had been another woman, in other life…
"You are not the kind of man that would go with sluts. I believe you have more refined tastes" she answered, slowly, shooking herself from that sudden thought that was leading her to an unpredictable path.
"It's impossibile for me to be attracted to a some vulgar women. Especially if I spend my days beside the most regal woman I have ever met"
Cersei widened her eyes and strangely remained speechless for some moments. That sentence was maybe said just out of courtesy, but still it sounded to her ears as a sort of veiled declaration. Inside her, she felt herself blushing – not for disgust or annoyance, but actually for flattery and perversed happiness.
The words she had said to Euron Greyjoy a couple of hours before echoed in her mind: If you want a prostitue, buy one. If you want a Queen, earn her.
And Qyburn, who did not buy or desire any prostitutes, had given so many proves of being worth of a Queen. Taking the globet of wine in her hand again, she allowed her Hand to leave and, as she watched him go, she found herself daydreaming about how it would have been to be touched by the precise touch of a doctor, instead of a pirate's careless one; or how it would have been to be courted by clever words instead of mere politic matters.
Too late she realized that she had forgotten to ask him if in the end Bronn had accepted or not to kill her brothers.