Chapter 2.
Cercei, is not happy that she wasn't informed of the Martell bitch's arrival first. She wants this one under her control, as it is her sweet Myrcella that is in Dorne and nothing can stop her from keeping her daughter safe. Not even some damned Martell. She paces her private solar, waiting on Shalene Martell to arrive. Slowly sipping her goblet of wine, thinking that now she has two useless wards in court. No matter that Sansa Stark is still the key to the North, that seems to be her only use. Now a Martell. Dangerous, maybe. But just a girl. There is a knock on the door and the handmaid opens it and announces the Lady Martell. Cercei is taken aback by what she sees, but it doesn't show. She had been expecting a child. Although Shalene is small, she is most definitely not a child. Cercei beckons her to sit and offers her a goblet of wine, which Shalene accepts, sipping, gazing demurely at the Queen Regent before looking at the floor. Cercei smiles at her and says," Lady Shalene, its so good to have you here in King's Landing. I hope everything is to your liking. Are your accommodations adequate?" Shalene replies, "Yes, Your Grace. Everyone has been so welcoming." Cercei lets her curiosity get the best of her slightly and asks, "Lady Shalene, if I may be so bold, I was expecting a child ward. Tell sweetling, how old are you? Feel free, tell me about yourself." Shalene peeks up at her, smiling to herself, this one thinks she is smart and dangerous. I'll play her game. "Your Grace, I am seventeen. I am sorry if I do not please you. I was sent by my Uncle. I will be no problem to you. I only want to serve my role to the realm, My Queen."
Cercei's piercing green eyes sparkle, as she thinks about Dornish customs and what she knows of how the "Ladies" of Dorne are known to be more wanton than the prudish ones in Westeros. She says," Lady Shalene, I always want you to feel free to speak openly to me, as long as we are in private conversation, that is," and flashes Shalene one of her most dazzling smiles." I know that Dornish and Westeros customs differ, I want us to feel at ease with each other." Cercei takes in the smooth, flowing gown, the seductive cut of it. The way Shalene's body is embraced by the fabric. The color of her skin, her lips, full, red, and wet with wine. Her black unreadable eyes, and all of that thick, curly, raven hair. Cercei smiles, she can't help herself. If she were a man, she'd bed this one. It then crosses her mind, why do I have to be a man to do it, before she dismisses it with a shake of her head. "Speak freely, Little Dove."
Shalene begins, then stops. Then looks at Cercei and says, "Your Grace, women in Dorne, some women, have different interests, and hobbies. I would ask your leave to continue to pursue these here. I know that due to Western tastes they will be frowned upon, but as I am not of the Western culture, if you would allow it, I care not what opinions others have of me. I would prefer to wear my style of clothing, the weather here is warm, as in Dorne. I would not wish any disrespect to you. If I may, I'd like to continue riding and other interests that I had in my Homeland. I know that it may seem unusual to you and you may be hesitant, but if you would allow it, I would do so under the watchful eye of whom ever your best protector is, so that you will feel safe in the notion that I am not doing it to cause harm. I fear there may be some doubt in that regard, as I am a Martell. Your Grace, I am well versed in the customs that Western Ladies follow, needlework, reading, all those tedious efforts; if I may be so bold."
Cercei can't help but to laugh! This is an odd one, but what should I expect from a Sand Snake! She looks at Shalene for a moment, thoughtfully. Calculating. This one is nothing like Sansa Stark. I wonder.. "Tell me Lady Shalene, what do you think of the King's betrothed? Have you had a chance to meet her? And, pray tell, what other interests are you wanting to continue?" "No, Your Grace, I haven't had the honor of meeting Lady Sansa. I only arrived a few hours ago. Although I did see her in Court. She is a beautiful young woman. And as my interests go, I am rather partial to archery, and the very non lady-like training in defense, Your Grace, with staff, daggers, short sword. In Dorne, it is wise to be able to protect one's self." She briefly looks into the Queen Regent's eyes, a demure smile graces her red lips before looking down at her lap.
Cercei replies, " Yes, she is. If you say so. Tell me, Shalene, if I allow your indulgences, I want something from you. I want you to play the demure Lady with Sansa Stark. I want you to get to know her, find out her secrets, see if she is still the innocent maiden she claims to be. What say you Lady Shalene, are we in agreement?"
Shalene gazes at the Queen. Taking in her beauty, the way she smiles, how it doesn't reach those emerald eyes, and thinks; she is as deadly as they say, but not as smart as she thinks she is. She's too quick to seek someone to bring into her schemes. Well, let's play then! "Yes, Your Grace, I am ever at your disposal." Shalene smiles as boldly at Cercei as Cercei does at Shalene. Cercei then says," Let's start by getting you introduced. A small gathering so that you can meet Sansa. Maybe you can loosen her up a bit, she is rather boring and bloody courteous." "As Your Grace desires." " It's settled may continue with your other pursuits of course. I will have someone appointed to train and ride with you. I'll send them to you in the next few days. You will, of course, keep me aware of your endeavors on the Lady Sansa." " Of course, Your Grace." Cercei stands up and walks to Shalene, " It's going to be pleasing to have you here, Shalene. I'll send word to you in regards to the gathering and your "consort". We'll see you in Court on the morrow, with Lady Sansa." It wasn't a question. Shalene curtsied low and replied, " Of course Your Grace." Bella, see the Lady Shalene to her rooms and then return.