Cersei Lannister lay sprawled on her own grand bed wearing her most beautiful dress, a silk green with white lace as trim. I stood over her. The chains holder her still cut the soft pale of her skin and I hoped halted her blood from reaching her hands and feet. A crimson scarf covered her mouth pulled tight enough so she could feel pain. I would have loved to hear her screams but was too weary of her intrusive and repulsive voice to chance ever having to hear it plea for mercy. The gag would stifle the screams but I would still satisfy by their presence. Making well sure the disloyal queen watched every second I drew my dagger. Singers would write refrains endlessly once the story of this room was exposed. Fear would be spread across the land and poison would no longer be a weapon of women. Still that was not what I thought of as I dragged the cool edge of the dagger across Cersei's right heel. Revenge was my only motive. Blood dripped from the wound but not enough. The color she once wore proudly in honor of her house would soon become her greatest fear. I looked directly into her dying green eyes as I matched the cut on her left foot. Nothing could keep me from smirking, try as she may to keep the proud demeanor of her family Cersei would be dead by my hands. For I cared the woman could die laughing as long as she died dead. As I destroyed her feet by shoving the blade into her heels, each in turn and twisting it pitilessly, I wondered what to do with her hands. Cutting them clean off should be considered compassion as she wouldn't need them. Then again it may give her a chance, however slight to escape. No, the great queen was not going to be given such courtesy. If prompted I had plenty of time to take the hands as souvenirs when she was properly dead. I took the moment of my hesitation to survey her watering eyes, she still would not cry out. With her bleeding I need to work quickly so she would not die before the time was right. I wanted her alive to the bitter sweet end. I did not speak as I grabbed her hands and sent the blade into each palm and splitting the fabric beneath them, she did not deserve to know what I was going to do to her. Water poured from her eyes now but still not necessarily tears. I was patient and to hurry my wait I carved "adulteress" into her stomach through the cloth of her dress. Blood poured from the word stain the silk and leaking onto my hands. The red on my fingers tasted sweet and salty, which I found strange considering its owner. Next was her heart, if she had one. I carved away leaning on her chest my legs becoming sticky from her blood drizzling over them. She screeched now baling like a child. When her heart was in my hand, the same that just ripped it from her body, I kissed it and raised it for the gods to see. No one could live without a heart. Cersei was the exception in my opinion, so I had to ensure her death. The lion could not live without its brain and Cersei valued her brain more than most. I stabbed twice, once through each ear, and then stopped to gaze into her dying eyes for the last time. She may have been dead long before the moment but in my heart I know the last thing she saw was the knife coming for her eyes. When I was done I left the dagger sticking out the top of her head, turning her golden hair red as fire. I picked up a glass from her nightstand and squeezed the heart over it. Fresh juice oozed into the cup. I toasted to the many ghosts Cersei helped to create and drank laughing until there was no more blood to drink.