I have no explanation lol.

But anyway, I'm back with new inspiration for this story (although this is an older chapter I just didn't publish.) If there's anyone out there who still wants to read it, let me know.

Strange how a body reacts to a simple touch. Cersei swore that she could still feel his lips on her skin whenever she closed her eyes. As if her body was physically aching for him. The gentle morning sun kissed her skin, but she wished for another kind of kiss.

She was no foolish girl waiting for a foreign prince to save her, she needed no one but herself to be safe.

But still, she wasn't able to forget the way he bit her neck. The way his voice became husky when he breathed something into her ear. And, of course, the way he smelled. Exotic and manly.

She couldn't help but feel like an idiot, taking a stroll in the gardens with a scarf around her neck while the sun burned down on her. But a lioness would never concern herself with the opinion of a sheep, would she?

Cersei lifted her chin all the higher.

Everyone seemed to stare at her, even the damned handmaidens she had lectured yesterday. When she returned the gaze, they looked away as if Cersei's glare would burn them alive otherwise.

The effect she had on people was half amusing, half helpful. She didn't need to ask twice for anything, because nobody wanted to test her patience. The servants and even nobleman around here were nothing more than her playthings. Easy to control and even easier to get rid of. Even her late husband, the drunken fool who should have worn a gown and given the armor to her.

And now the rains weeped over his grave, with no one there to hear. Not even his oh-so-precious and perfect Lyanna could have saved him.

Whenever he had come to her bed at night, drunk and already half-undressed, he called out for the Stark girl. "Lyanna." He had used to moan her name as if it was a song written for her, and only her. Cersei had learned to despise a dead woman, because the shadow she cast was still very much alive. If only he would have loved her the way she loved him once.

Because she had. Fiercely. For a long, long time.

But there was never a chance, never a time. He had told her so himself.

Robert had to die—and Cersei made sure he did. She promised herself to never place her trust in men again, or in another human being at all.

The others behaved like clumsy chickens while she was a predator, not bothering with minor issues.

Now it was her time to shine, no one's but hers. If only she would be able to control Joffrey as much as that wicked little bitch from Highgarden. Cersei didn't get what he saw in her, but she knew Margaery manipulated him. She told him what he wanted to hear, maybe it was that.

Yes, she was far more capable of ruling than almost every man she knew, yet she would never get the chance to do it. Just because of old laws invented by old men.

She told her guards to stay behind as she walked deeper into the gardens. Those little lapdogs were close enough to protect her if needed, but she sensed that something was odd. Something that they didn't need to see.

And, by the Gods, she was right.

Jaime was sitting there on a bench, looking at her with that longing gaze that never failed to make her heart beat a little faster, no matter how much she hated to admit it.

"Jaime?! What are you doing here, you have to protect the king!", she barked, but Jaime knew when she was truly angry and when she only pretended to be.

"I think the king can manage one or two hours without me", he answered in a calming tone. "He is with his betrothed."

Of course. Where else would he be.

Jaime placed a soft kiss right underneath her ear. "Why are you wearing a scarf?" His lips tickled her sensitive skin, but she managed to show no reaction at all.

Her brother only grew more hesitant, wanting to awake something in her that only he got to see sometimes.

Yet today, she denied him. Her delicate hands pushed him away with unexpected force. "That is none of your concern. Leave me alone."

"You came to me, not the other way round." The amusement in her brother's voice made her sigh with annoyance. She stood up again, turned around and wanted to walk away from him, but an iron grip on her waist stopped her from doing so.

"I'm not letting you go.", Jaime said, firmly.

Cersei tried to escape his touch by pushing against his arms, but he was far more powerful than her. "Have you lost your mind?", she hissed. "Let me go!"

She tried to twist around in his arms. Her scarf slipped, exposing the marked skin.

Jaime knew what that was. He had seen and made it himself more often than he could count.

He also knew that this wasn't his doing. And Cersei knew that he knew.

For a moment, he did nothing but look at her in disbelief. His grip on her waist loosened and soon after his fingers stroked across her neck instead.

"Tell me who that was."

His tone send shivers down Cersei's spine. "That is, as I already said, none of your concern."

"Oh, it is. You and I are the only ones that count. That's the bloody truth. The only truth I know."

Cersei managed to get away from him somehow. "If you and I are the only ones that count then you shouldn't feel the need to ask about others, should you?" She tilted her head a little.

Her golden brother snorted. "Whoever took the right to touch you, I'm going to find him and I'm going to kill him."

"You're not."

"I am-"

"You're not. Stop that madness and look at me. Look into my eyes." She cupped both of his cheeks with her hands. Her thumb gently rubbed one of them. "We were born together and we are going to die together, do you remember?"

Jaime nodded, so she went on.

"I would never allow another man to touch me like you do. Lies, lies and more lies. We are surrounded by them." One of her hands slid down on his chest. "But you are my truth."

Judging from the expression on his face, Jaime was satisfied with that. At least for now. As Cersei knew, his wrath was uncontrollable. Especially when it involved her.

She allowed herself a small moment of tenderness, standing close to her brother. Close to her lover.

That was until one of the guards came closer. Cersei didn't hesitate to take a step back and look at the man as if nothing had happened.

"Queen Regent." The guard bowed before her hastily. "Lord Tywin wishes to see you."

Cersei sighed. No one dared to let Tywin of House Lannister wait. So, today she was no one. "Of course. Give me one more minute."

The man standing across from her cleared his throat, notably uncomfortable. "I am sorry, your Grace, but he ordered me to bring you to him right now."