THE IRON THRONE CUTS DEEP

My chance came when I realized how lost the little king, Tommen, was, and how crazy his mother. So I charmed my way into young Tommen's heart while attempting to make friends at court. It wasn't an easy feat to survive here as a prisoner in all but name, I found out soon when I heard about Sansa Stark. She had been the previous Hand's daughter, and sister to Robb Stark, now King in the North – and she had been beheaded at Joffrey's pleasure only days before our fleet arrived in Blackwater Bay. I pitied the girl, and swore I would not suffer her fate.

Tommen took to me quickly, and before his mother realized, I already had my claws in him. He allowed me to marry the Lady Margaery Tyrell, which gave me the support of the Reach and most of all her formidable grandmother, the Queen of Thorns. Then I convinced him to send his mother away to the Westerlands since she was now officially Lady of Casterly Rock. Cersei didn't like it, but her son's word overruled hers. Soon after, some wilful lackeys of the crown brought my old liege Stannis Baratheon before the throne in chains, having found him on his way north. I tried to help him by assuring a fair trial, but he quickly demanded trial by combat and foolishly lost against the Kingsguard. Still, I managed to convince Tommen to send Stannis to the wall and take in his daughter, Shireen, of whom I was quite fond. So it was done, and House Baratheon was reduced to a few children.

Then the Northerners came. Tommen, in his despair, named me Lord of Dragonstone and his commander. The Red Woman asked me to overthrow the boy now and make peace with the North, but I couldn't bring myself to go against the sweet boy. Not before the wars had subsided would I act upon this matter, I told her, and she angrily broke off her relations with me. Instead, she abducted Shireen and fled to Storm's End, where Shireen's crazy mother proclaimed her Lady of the Stormlands.

Tommen sent me to Dragonstone to gather my troops there, and it felt terribly good to return to its soil knowing I was now the rightful lord. Lord of Dragonstone! And, to make matters even better, my wife revealed to me she was pregnant. I could have been the happiest man in Westeros, but then the raven came. Much faster than anticipated, the Northerners had come and sacked King's Landing. No one knew what had happened to Tommen, only that now everyone in Westeros believed him and his sister Myrcella to be bastards born from incest. I hastily left my pregnant wife against her wishes and rushed to the capital, only to find the throne empty. Robb Stark had simply left it there. The Northerners had not even touched a hair on Tommen, now a crying confused bastard, but they had taken his true father, the Kingslayer Jaime Lannister, and beheaded him in front of the Sept of Baelor.

Had justice been done? I didn't know what to think. I wasn't even sure what to do. Only I knew this: before me was the throne my ancestor Aegon had built, and no one occupied it. I was blood of the dragon, I thought. It was mine. So I climbed the steps and sat down, foolishly believing the days of trouble were over for good.