Chapter Twenty-one

A week later, Brienne rode through the gates of the Red Keep, returning from a routine mission into the city. Bran had insisted upon visiting the Great Sept of Baelor to oversee its reconstruction, and the entire Kingsguard had accompanied him. Everywhere they'd passed, people had hidden quietly in their shops and homes, peering through windows or out doorways, eager to catch a glimpse of the new king, but also wary of him. Although Bran was from an ancient and noble house, rumors of his powers swirled throughout the capital, and people were afraid. But then, the citizens of King's Landing were so used to being terrorized by whoever sat on the throne that they expected no less from Bran. It had been more than half a year since he'd been crowned king, and the people were still waiting for him to turn on them.

As Brienne made her way through the main yard, she caught sight of Jaime about thirty feet away. He was sitting high atop his horse, his shoulders back, his armor glinting in the late afternoon sun. He looked magnificent as he addressed the small company of infantry before him. He made a marvelous Master of War. Rather than merely sitting in the small council chamber, day after day, sending orders to men whose names he didn't even know, he went out amongst his ranks, teaching them, inspiring them. It was as if he had been born to the position, and for the first time since his appointment, Brienne was glad that Jaime Lannister had been made Master of War.

Jaime must have felt her watching him because he turned his head in her direction, and their eyes suddenly met. Brienne was tempted to look away, but she simply couldn't move. Jaime smiled at her softly, his eyes lighting up the instant he saw her, and it took her breath away. It had been more than a moonturn since she'd given him that ridiculous challenge to prove himself. She'd regretted it not long after, being sorry that she'd gotten caught up in the moment. But since that day, Jaime had not spoken a single word of love to her. Everything between them had been strictly professional, and Brienne was starting to miss the intimacy that Tyrion had forced upon them.

Brienne wanted to smile back at Jaime, but they were surrounded by people and she didn't want to look foolish or give Jaime the wrong idea. Instead, she simply nodded at him in acknowledgment and then turned and continued on toward the keep, Podrick by her side.

"He really has done an admirable job, hasn't he?" Podrick said as they trotted through the yard.

"He has." Brienne couldn't even deny it.

"I suppose Lord Tyrion knew what he was doing when he appointed Lord Jaime Master of War. And we all thought he was just meddling."

"Yes," Brienne replied tightly. She knew Podrick was just making idle conversation, but it was starting to get a little too personal.

"You know, I've always liked Lord Jaime, even back in the old days. If it weren't for him, I don't know what would have happened to me after Lord Tyrion was arrested for the king's murder. Who knows? Had Lord Jaime not sent me to be your squire, I might have been arrested and tortured after Lord Tyrion escaped."

Brienne brought her horse to a halt, and Podrick pulled up on his reins, stopping beside her. She turned and looked at him pointedly. "Just what are you getting at, Pod?"

He fidgeted in his saddle. "What do you mean, my lady?"

"I mean, why are you suddenly singing Lord Jaime's praises. Has Lord Tyrion put you up to it?"

"No, my lady. It's just . . . well, Lord Jaime has been here for more than a month now, and I think he's gone a long way toward proving himself, don't you? He's been nothing but kind to me, and to you, from what I can tell. And he's done everything the king and Lord Tyrion have asked of him. I think, perhaps, he really is trying to make amends for the past. And I think, maybe, we should all give him the benefit of the doubt."

"Oh, do you?"

"Yes, my lady," Podrick answered, his tone less than certain.

Brienne didn't have anything else to say on the matter. She feared if they talked much longer, Podrick would say something that would truly annoy her, and she'd been having such a nice day. She didn't want to spoil it.

Brienne turned her attention back to her horse and urged it forward. Together, she and Podrick headed toward the stables, not another word spoken between them.

After returning to the Red Keep, Brienne spent several hours in her private chambers, replying to correspondence and planning out assignments for her men for the remainder of the week. Among the letters she had received that morning was one from Queen Sansa. Sansa had not taken Tyrion's suggestion regarding Gendry Baratheon at all well and had since stopped writing to Tyrion altogether. Sansa had adamantly rejected the idea of marrying Lord Gendry, and Brienne couldn't blame her. Brienne knew all too well what it was like to be with a man whose heart belonged to another. It was one of the Seven Hells, though she wasn't quite sure which one.

Sansa was still struggling with how to deal with the northern lords and their insistence that she wed, but she was done taking advice from Tyrion Lannister. All Brienne could do was offer her words of understanding and encouragement and pray to the gods that Sansa found a man who was worthy of her before she was forced to settle for less.

Once the last of her work was done, Brienne leaned back in her chair and stared out into the room, the events of the day filtering through her mind as she examined them one by one. No matter what else had happened that day, the one thing she couldn't forget was Jaime, the way he'd looked at her, the way he'd smiled at her. Even now, the blood warmed in her veins at the memory. She knew he was sorry for everything he'd done, knew that his intentions had been honorable—or at least, he'd believed that his intentions had been honorable—and she was finally starting to warm up to the idea that maybe, just maybe, there could be something between them again.

Brienne's heart skipped a beat, and she inhaled a long, slow breath, trying to calm the excitement coursing through her body. Her nerves were humming beneath her skin, and she couldn't help but wonder what would happen if she sought Jaime out at that very moment. Had he already retired for the afternoon? Was he in his own chamber now, stripping out of his clothes after a long day in the warm spring sun, his skin glistening with sweat, his muscles flexing beneath his flesh as he trailed his hand over his body, washing himself clean?

Brienne shifted in her chair, an all too familiar ache settling between her legs. It had been a long time since she'd allowed herself to think of Jaime Lannister in such a way, but now, she couldn't seem to stop herself. Her heart beat faster and her breath grew shallow as her mind wandered across the keep to the small chamber Jaime inhabited in the Tower of the Hand. Brienne wondered what would happen if she visited there now. Would Jaime be shocked to see her? Would he send her away? Brienne had no idea what Jaime was thinking or feeling at that moment, but she was suddenly tempted to find out.

Without allowing herself a chance to reconsider, Brienne rose from her chair and headed toward the Tower of the Hand. Her pulse raced as she walked the corridors, wondering just what the hell she thought she was doing. Although Brienne was a knight, although she had always been bold in battle, she had never been bold in matters of the heart. She'd always been timid, almost afraid, but now, she was being courageous, taking charge of her own life without waiting for someone else to do it for her. She was going to see Jaime in his bedchamber, by herself, without any good reason for doing so other than the fact that she desperately wanted to be alone with him again.

It wasn't long before Brienne reached Jaime's door, her heart beating wildly beneath her ribs. She paused for a moment, trying to summon up the courage to knock, when an unexpected sound carried to her through the closed door. It was a soft sound, unexpected but far too familiar. It was laughter. A woman's laughter. And a cold shock flushed the length of Brienne's entire body.

"No, not like that, my lord," the sweet, feminine voice floated beyond the door. "Like this."

All the blood rushed to Brienne's face, and for a moment, her vision failed her and everything went hazy. Jaime had a woman in his chamber, and there could be only one reason for it. Brienne felt like such a fool. She had waited too long, held her grudge too long, and now, Jaime was with someone else and things could never go back to the way they once had been.

Another laugh drifted out into the hallway, and Brienne resolved to run, but her legs simply refused to work. She stood there, her whole body trembling, staring at the closed door, listening to Jaime and his new lover talk to each other within the intimate confines of his bedchamber.

"Like this?" Jaime asked, his voice almost uncertain.

"Oh, yes, just like that," his lady sighed.

Instinctively, Brienne's hand reached for the hilt of her sword, her fingers wrapping around it as they always did when she was trying to ground herself. But today, even Oathkeeper could offer her no comfort. She understood that men had needs, and that Jaime was just like any other man, but she'd thought he would wait for her. She had honestly started to believe that his love for her was true and that he would remain faithful. But clearly, she'd been wrong.

Brienne strengthened her hold on Oathkeeper and forced herself to turn around, her fingers gripping the hilt so tightly that the scabbard angled upward, and when she turned, it hit the door, making a dull knocking sound.

Brienne froze. The room behind her had suddenly gone quiet, and she was afraid she was about to be discovered. She didn't have the energy or the wherewithal to run. She feared if she tried to take even a single step forward, her legs would buckle beneath her and she'd collapse to the floor.

Slowly, Brienne turned her head and looked over her shoulder, her eyes transfixed on the door as she waited for something to happen. A moment later, the door creaked open and Jaime peered around the edge. His eyes went wide when he saw Brienne.

"My . . . my lady," he nearly stumbled over the words. "I mean, Lord Commander. Is there something I can do for you?"

Brienne turned around to face him. She knew her cheeks were red and there were tears in her eyes, but she faced him all the same because she was no coward. "I'm sorry, my lord, I didn't mean to disturb you. I didn't realize that you had company."

"Company?" He said it as if he didn't quite understand the meaning of the word. Brienne knew he was flustered because he'd been caught, but she had expected him to handle the situation with a bit more grace than that.

"Yes, company. I didn't realize that you were entertaining a lady in your room. Even Lord Bronn has the decency not to bring his whores to the Red Keep."

Jaime opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He looked like he was trying to come up with a plausible excuse, but Brienne refused to even give him the opportunity.

"No need to explain," she said, preempting whatever it was he'd been intending to say. "I understand how things are. It's been more than a month since you've been back in King's Landing, and obviously, since you couldn't get what you wanted from me, you decided to get it from somebody else."

"It's not like that," Jaime replied, finally finding his voice.

"As I said, you don't owe me an explanation. I'm not your wife. Or your sister."

Jaime flinched, but Brienne wasn't the least bit sorry. She was furious with him. He had betrayed her trust, yet again, and she knew she'd never be able to forgive him for it.

"If you would excuse me, Lord Jaime," Brienne said haughtily, "I will leave you to your latest conquest."

Brienne turned on her heel and headed toward the White Sword Tower. She didn't take more than two steps before Jaime called after her.

"Brienne, wait!"

Brienne heard footsteps behind her, but she refused to stop. Before she could round the corner, Jaime reached out for her, wrapping his hand around her elbow and stopping her cold.

Brienne whipped around, trying to shrug out of his grip. "Unhand me, my lord! You have no right to touch me."

Jaime let her go, dropping his hand as if he'd been burned. "You're right. I'm sorry, Brienne."

"And don't call me that. You don't have a right to call me that. You may call me Lord Commander, that is all."

"Lord Commander, I need a word with you. I need to explain."

"I don't want an explanation. I don't want anything from you."

"It's just that Tyrion—"

Brienne held up a hand, instantly silencing him. "Enough. I'm sure that whatever is going on here is the direct result of your brother's interference, but that doesn't mean you had to go along with it. That doesn't mean you had to take another woman into your bed. You're a grown man, Jaime Lannister—at least, you're supposed to be—and you're responsible for all your own bad decisions, not your brother. Blame Tyrion all you like, but the fault is yours and yours alone."

"I swear to you, Brienne, it's not what you think."

Brienne glared at him the second her name passed his lips. She opened her mouth to say something biting and cruel when something behind him caught her eye.

Brienne refocused her gaze over Jaime's shoulder, finding a beautiful young woman with long golden hair leaning lazily against the open doorframe. Although the woman was fully dressed, her bodice was cut low and her skirt was hiked up over one thigh, leaving very little to the imagination. She had an amused grin on her painted lips, and just the sight of her made Brienne ill.

The woman's smile broadened when she caught Brienne watching her, and Brienne tore her eyes away in disgust. Without another word, she turned around and stormed out of the tower. Jaime continued to call after her, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.