"I know it's you, Jaime." whispered Cersei after she finished making out with the fourteen year old boy dressed as a dragon.
"How?" asked Jaime, flabbergasted that she hadn't thought him to be Rhaegar whose costume and makeup he had copied.
"I could recognize your voice, idiot. Plus your face paint isn't quite that good that I wouldn't recognize my own twin brother." Cersei replied, rolling her eyes.
"Well...I...I can explain."
"No need. Lucky for you, I rather liked making out with you."
"Really? So can this ummmmm...happen again sometime then?"
Cersei laughed.
"Of course not. I plan of having a political career one day and if this ever got out..."
"Trump's president and everyone knows about him and his daughter." protested Jaime.