They were planning something with possibly nefarious implications, Cerasei decided as she spied Lyanna and her older brother sneaking out into the hallway. Given that the King's presence imposed some strict restrictions to their usual routine, it was partly understandable. Yet Cersei could not help but feel she should not allow them to carry on so.

Father had told them quite firmly that they were not to loiter about. If he even thought them to be behaving in such a manner, there would be dire consequences. Cersei had been more than pleased with that. It meant that Lyanna would no longer bring her little toad of a brother into their room, or take him outside for all to see as if he were a sweet boy that needed affection. And for some time, it had been thus.

But there was something about her step-sister which made Cersei doubt that the girl would remain as that until the very end. So, placing her brush down on the counter, she stoop up and dusted off her dress. She looked furtively out the window for one moment, wondering if she should find out whether anyone had gone to the gardens. But she decided against it. A soft gust of wind drifted through the chamber, a reminder of the fact that she could not linger if she did want to catch those Starks into their mischief.

Armed with cutting wit and steely determination, Cersei Lannister made her way through the halls, climbing stairs until she reached the nursery where her monstrous brother had been locked away. Father should have just given him away to some poor fisherman to make a servant of him. It was too late for that, unfortunately, as Tyrion was already used to a life of luxury, and he was growing more and more spoiled, always hankering for Lyanna's attention, whether it be for games or stories.

If only she could have thrown him out a window, Cersei would certainly have done it. But the little she-wolf was always around to protect him. She could not fathom a feasible reason for which Lyanna went through so much trouble for the imp, but there it was, the fact that she did, though, would foiever remain a blot upon her nobler faculties.

She opened the doors of the nursery, expecting to see Lyanna and Ned at play with her own beastling of a sibling, but what met her eyes was mere emptiness. Cersei walked deeper into the chamber and looked around cautiously. The last time such a scene had played out before her, Lyanna had been exacting revenge for the fact that Cersei had ripped one of her riding gowns. Despite the fact that it had been a brown ugly thing, reminiscent of a poor woman's dress, Lyanna had insisted that Cersei had had no right to get rid of it. And in retaliation she'd somehow contrived to drench Cersei's own golden gown in raspberry juice.

As Cersei came to find after a few more moments of close inspection, there was no another living soul in the chamber beside herself. Green eyes grew wide with fear and distaste. That stupid she-wolf had taken the child out. When the Prince could be walking around the gardens at that very moment. She would die if Rhaegar Targaryen ever saw the face of her little brother. How was she expected to charm a Prince when he was treated to the odious beast that was Tyrion?

More than a little upset about the whole matter, Cersei was soon enough running down the stairs in a mad dash, searching for Jaime. He was not in his room, nor was he in father's solar. He was not with their step-mother, for that woman was speaking to the Queen. And he was most definitely not at their usual meeting place.

That left only the gardens. And since Cersei had not seen the Prince and his ever-present companion either, her mind could only summon grotesque images of trouble. Just as she was about to rush out of her current place, she heard voices. One clearly belonged to Lyanna, the other, to her consternation, was Jaime's.

"Are you certain he is in the solar with the King?" Lyanna was asking, her soft voice barely audible as the wind picked up slightly. "I would hate to get in trouble."

"That is a lie, if I've ever heard one," Jaime countered. "You love getting in trouble. Perhaps as much as you enjoy pulling other with you." But there was nothing accusing about his tome. In fact, he rather seemed like he was having fun. Cersei palled with both rage and fear. "Do you like it here, little brother?" he questioned, putting emphasis on the adjective he'd thrown in.

"Aye," came Tyrion's voice in reply. It was at that point that Cersei could no longer hold herself back.

With a leap, she flew out from behind the rock and ran towards them. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, glaring hatefully at Tyrion and quite menacingly at Lyanna. "Stupid! You aren't allowed to take him out."

"But of course I am," Lyanna contradicted. "Father only said that he must not be seen." She had recently started calling Tywin Lannister by that name. She did it just to annoy Cersei, of that the lioness was sure. "And there is no one around to see."

"I do so hate disappointing beautiful ladies," a voice drawled, making the attention of all four step-siblings turn towards the source. Arthur Dayne stood there, leaning his shoulder against the rock. He had a small smirk on his face, reminiscent of Lyarra's expression when she found something very interesting quite by accident.

Cersei scowled. She had accepted his presence in her home for the Prince. But the Seven knew, she sometimes wished she could claw his eyes out. There was something almost mocking about the way he looked at them.

"And what do we have here?" he asked, stepping towards Lyanna in the next moment. He gave her a questioning look when she clutched Tyrion's hand and half=pulled him into her side. Arthur knelt before the child. "Who are you, little one?" He had made his voice surprisingly kind as she posed the question.

The boy looked at him with mismatched eyes, not even noticing the glares Cersei threw his way. They were all lost, she thought bleakly. All that she had worked for; nothing was to come of it.

"I am Tyrion Lannister," the dwarf answered.