"Though it may seem impossible, that's the gospel truth."-The Gospel Truth, Hercules

XVI. JAIME

Cersei was furious. Still. Jaime could tell by the way she stormed about the camp they were setting up for the night, yelling at anyone who got in her way. And it wasn't just because Jaime was leaving her for Lucia or because Luce had yelled at Joffery. Now it was because Myrcella was practically clinging to Luce's skirts. The instant she had been set free from her mother's control for the time being she had darted directly to Luce, chattering constantly to the girl who listened with a gentle smile and gave the young princess her full attention.

The rest of the trip did little to improve Cersei's opinion of Luce. The young woman seemed to thwart his sister at every turn, winning over dozens with her charm, flattering Cersei in public, and spending time with both Tommen and Myrcella when Cersei was busy. Furthermore, while Cersei rode in comfort Luce remained on horseback and was, in truth, a better rider than Jaime's sister would ever be. In short Luce was everything Cersei was not; young, charming, approachable, gentle, and comfortable with travel and outside conditions. That combination meant she often had young women that had once fawned over Cersei flocking around Lucia. Jaime watched the events with no small amount of amusement.

"Your young wife is going to be a formidable opponent for our sister," Tyrion informed Jaime as they rode into King's Landing. Lucia was riding just ahead of them with Sansa, Arya, and Bran, waving and smiling at the people who greeted her cheerfully and tossed flowers at their path.

"Cersei already hates her," Jaime said, watching Cersei's rigid posture grow stiffer by the moment.

"Getting her to Casterly Rock away from our sister's machinations as quickly as possible might be best," Tyrion suggested in an undertone and Jaime had to agree. The woman who had, presumably, ordered Jon Arryn's death all the way from Winterfell was no doubt planning Lucia's downfall as well and, much as Jaime hated to admit it, he had actually grown fond of the girl. As if hearing his thoughts Luce turned slightly in the saddled and flashed him a brilliant smile before turning back and leaning over to Arya to point something out. The direwolves followed warily in the center of the horses; Bran's Summer and Arya's Nymeria sniffing the air curiously while Lucia's Shadow and Sansa's Lady kept them pinned in. The wolves had caused no trouble on the trip and Jaime was glad to see Shadow keeping one eye fixed on her mistress at all times. With Cersei loathing her Lucia would need all the extra protection she could get.

The castle was a splendidly welcome sight after several weeks of riding out in the open and the promise of actual beds rather than cots set on the ground brought a smile to Jaime's face as he jumped down from his horse, handing the reins to a stable boy before moving to help Lucia dismount. "What do you think of it?" he asked her when he placed her on the ground.

"It's loud," Luce said, wrinkling her nose, but Jaime could tell by her wide eyes that she was slightly awed. "It practically screams Look at me!" He knew what she meant. Bathed in thousands of colors over the pure white stone, the castle was a combination of a thousand tastes and a hundred different types of architecture.

"It's a show of power," Jaime informed her.

"It's ridiculous," she shot back, taking his arm and allowing him to lead her through the group.

"My father and uncle would agree with you there," he returned. "They think you show more power by restraint than flashing wealth like a peacock."

"Sensible," Luce said with a hint of a smile he was coming to love.

"You'll like Casterly Rock better then," he informed her. "It's simpler built and made to last rather than show off." A bright cry ringing over everything drew their attention to Myrcella who darted forward.

"Momma wants to see you," Myrcella informed Jaime, rolling her eyes slightly in a movement that reminded him of Luce when indulging in Cersei's ridiculous demands. "I can show Aunt Lucia to your rooms."

"If you would be so kind," Jaime replied with a deep bow that made Myrcella giggle. "My lady wife I take my leave of you," he said, continuing with the ridiculous charade of overly formal courtliness.

"Don't let the lioness give you any new scars then," Lucia returned with mock gravity before surprising him by kissing him lightly. "Come then princess. You may give me the grand tour." Myrcella beamed at Luce and dragged the young woman away, already talking as quickly as she could. He shook his head with a slight smile before turning to find his sister in the crowd. Cersei was standing in her own solitary space glaring straight at him.

"You wished to speak to me sweet sister," Jaime said, arching a golden eyebrow at her before bowing properly.

"I would have hoped you would have changed your mind about that little slut," Cersei spat at him. "I don't know what you see in a little girl like that."

"Lucia is twice the woman you'll ever be," Jaime said, feeling cold fury wash over him. "After all she's not afraid to be with me."

"They'd kill us both along with Joff," Cersei snapped.

"And who cares about Tommen and Myrcella," Jaime hissed. "It's no wonder they love Luce so much when their own mother doesn't have time for them." Cersei jerked back as if she had been slapped but Jaime had already spun and stalked off, knowing he needed to work off his anger before he returned to Luce or he would take it out on her.