Cersei was fuming. She poured herself a goblet of Strongwine and drank it straight down, then poured another, but this time sipping more like the Queen she was. The saying was no news is good news, but in her case, she was eager to know whether the little beast who dared call himself brother, was dead or not.
Almost a moon had passed since Joff's death. She wanted the monster dead, but her father would not permit it. Cersei was almost certain her Lord Tywin loved the hideous creature more than his own grandchildren. She took another sip of wine, quelling the urge to drink it all at once. Wine helped numb the pain of losing Joffrey. To make matters worse, she was going to lose her other two children. Today her son, in two days time it would be her precious daughter.
Myrcella was supposed to leave for Dorne with Prince Oberyn after Joffrey and Margaery's wedding. Her father wanted Myrcella to wed Prince Trystane Martell of Dorne. He was the perfect match for her, Cersei couldn't deny that. However, it meant sending Myrcella to Sunspear, where debauchery was the order of the day. Her daughter was too young, too innocent, too good for that.
Joffrey's death had changed plans, but only a fraction. The betrothal had been delayed, as had Myrcella's departure. She was to leave two days after Tommen and Margaery's wedding. Instead of being escorted by Prince Oberyn, Jaime had volunteered, no doubt avoiding returning to Casterly Rock.
Jaime was to leave for Casterly Rock a fortnight ago, but something had happened, and stayed in Kings Landing for longer, choosing to sail to Dorne with Myrcella. Cersei had demanded to know what had been so important to keep him from leaving, and to warrant the mysterious conversations between her twin and father. It was to her misfortune that they refused to discuss the matter with her.
There was a knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.
"Enter."
Jocelyn emerged through the door.
"It is time, your grace."
Cersei's heart sank. This wedding was essential for now, or father had insisted. Although she would endeavour to rid herself of the Tyrell girl before Tommen took her to bed proper. At ten and two, he was too young for such things. Not that it stopped Jaime and I from exploring, she thought to herself, but pushed such notions aside. Her darling Tommen was more interested in cute kittens than scrawny cats like Margaery Tyrell.
The announcement had been sent out to the Lords of the great houses that weren't in Kings Landing. Those who were there, would be in attendance to the feast, if not the wedding itself.
The gown chosen for the wedding was black velvet with gold brocade, for she was still in mourning for Joffrey. As much as it made her look wan, for the colour did not suit her pale skin, Cersei was determined to wear it. The dress was more of an act of defiance to her father and a reminder to the Tyrells who Margaery's first husband was, and why the harlot was marrying Tommen.
"Oh, I pray to the Seven it will not rain upon the king's wedding," Jocelyn said as she laced up the gown.
"No one wants rain," said Cersei. No, not rain, she wanted a storm to match her rage. "Tighter. Cinch it tighter, you simpering fool."
Jocelyn wasn't the one to anger her. It was the wedding that enraged her, though her handmaiden made a safer target. Truth be told, she Cersei would have preferred to take it out on Senelle, Cersei's other handmaiden, but she was nowhere in sight.
After her conversation with Lady Merryweather, Qyburn had been tasked to send one of his spies to follow the traitorous bitch to the Sept of Baelor. The words or the Myrish beauty had been found true. Senelle had been feeding information to Margaery.
Cersei had yet to act on the knowledge. Thus, for the time being, she kept her tongue in front of the cow. Senelle's downfall had to appear as an accident, or illness. Her father wouldn't approve of outright murder. It would set too dangerous a precedent. Women would fear to work for her.
Qyburn had offered her many lethal options, each more painful than the next. However, Cersei considered whether the girl might be of use to her. Feeding false information, which would no doubt reach the ears of Margaery, could work to her advantage.
If her theory was correct, right now Senelle would tell the future Queen of Cersei's concerns over her cousin Lancel, who was to wed the recently widowed Lady Amerei Frey. Her former husband had gotten into a skirmish and lost his life for it.
Cersei had no such concerns over her cousin, whatsoever. However, she had told Senelle that Lancel's strong faith and Gatehouse ami's lack of it, may create difficulties in the marriage. Cersei knew if the topic was raised by Lady Margaery, then it would have come straight from the mouth of Senelle.
Cersei wondered if her former handmaiden might prove useful, for a while. Although she was lacking when it came to feeding the girl information. Most important topics were not spoken in front of a handmaiden. Only the mere frivolities. After she was done with the bitch, she would give her to Qyburn could do what he liked with her.
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Jaime did nothing to help her sour mood when he turned up to tell her how he meant to keep her son from being poisoned. Not that this was his role, for Jaime was no longer a member of the Kingsguard. However, despite Jaime having removed the white cloak, he was still a Kingsguard at heart.
"It is no longer your responsibility," Cersei snipped. "You gave up your cloak to save the life of your brother. The hideous looking, treacherous imp. The one who murdered your son, or have you forgotten?"
Thanks to the letters Stannis had distributed around the realm, claiming her children were Jaime's, too many tongues wagged. Jaime being in charge of Tommen's protection would make matters worse.
"Father insisted," Jaime sighed.
"Ah, so this is what you have been plotting behind my back."
Jaime ignored her spiteful tone and instead rolled his eyes before answering.
"There will be men in the kitchens watching as each dish is prepared. Ser Addam's gold cloaks will escort the servants as they bring the food to table, ensuring no tampering takes place. Ser Boros will taste every course before both Tommen or Margaery. If that should fail, Maester Ballabar will be sat at the back of the hall, with antidotes for twenty common poisons. I promise you, Tommen will be safe."
"Safe." Cersei snapped. Jaime did not understand. No one understood. How could they?
"Tommen will be surrounded by the finest knights in Westeros. The Kingsguard will protect him."
Cersei stared at her brother. "I remember how well guarded Joffrey was. Those splendid knights of the Kingsguard, dressed in their white cloaks. What good were white cloaks when Joff was dying? Too busy worrying about soiling their precious white cloaks. No, I want you to remain with Tommen all night, is that understood?"
"I will have a guardsman outside his door."
She seized his arm. "Not a guardsman. You. And inside his bedchamber."
"Do you think someone will crawl out of the hearth and kill him and Margaery? Tyrion is likely at the wall by now. If Tyrion killed Joffrey…"
"Of course he did," Cersei scoffed.
"If he killed Joffrey, he had motive. It is why he was surrounded by the greatest suspicion. Tyrion and Joffrey never got on. Tommen is a very different matter. Tyrion adores him and Myrcella. He would never hurt either of them."
"I will not have Tommen alone with Margaery, not for so much as a heartbeat."
"They will not be alone. Her cousins will be with them." Jaime frowned. "Is the reason for the guard more about the threat from Queen Margaery than Tyrion?"
Cersei had not wanted Tommen and his wife to share a bed at all, but the Tyrells had insisted. She hadn't realised Jaime would be smart enough to work out her hesitancy.
"She will not get her claws into my boy," she snarled. "I need eyes inside that room."
Jaime threw his head back and laughed.
"To see what?" he said. "There can be no danger of a consummation. Tommen is much too young."
"Do you remember what were we doing at twelve?" she snarled.
"We weren't still playing with kittens," Jaime's face hardened.
"And neither does Margaery and her cousins." Jaime sighed and nodded. "Swear to me, you will stay by Tommen's side until the sun comes up."
"As you command," he said.
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Compared to the opulence of Joffrey's wedding, the nuptials of King Tommen was a modest affair. No one wanted another lavish ceremony, and neither did anyone have the stomach to pay for one. Therefore, Tommen took Lady Margaery as his wife in the royal sept of the Red Keep with fewer than a hundred guests, unlike the thousands who had witnessed his brother wed the same woman.
The bride was beautiful, Margaery wore the same gown she had worn to marry Joffrey, a gown of sheer ivory silk, Myrish lace, and seed pearls. The groom beside was a pudgy twelve-year-old child with golden hair and green eyes, just like his parents.
This isn't right, Cersei thought. The wedding was too soon. Another year, mayhaps two. That would have been time enough for the sake of decency. She looked to her father, his face betraying nothing. She turned and stared back to where Mace Tyrell stood between his wife and mother. Why is father so eager to have them wed so soon, she wondered? Highgarden should have been content with a mere betrothal for now. What was he not telling her?
When it was time for the changing of the cloaks, the bride sank to her knees and Tommen covered her with the heavy cloth-of-gold monstrosity that Robert had cloaked Cersei in on their own wedding day, with the crowned stag of Baratheon worked upon its back in beads of onyx. Cersei had wanted to use the fine red silk cloak Joffrey had used.
When the vows were spoken, the king and his queen stepped outside the sept to accept congratulations.
"Westeros has two queens now, and the young one is as beautiful as the old one," boomed Ser Lyle Crakehall, who was an oaf. For that, Cersei would have slapped him if it weren't for the very public setting, and her father being close by.
When Cersei was a child, she had believed weddings to be an exciting affair, especially what she had expected from her own. The dashing Prince Rhaegar Targaryen had been central to those dreams. He had been so handsome, with his dark indigo eyes and his silver blonde hair.
Women from all over the land swooned over the Prince, and she was to be his wife. Until the Mad King Aerys punished her father and forbade the marriage. Instead, Rhaegar had wed the Dornish harlot, Elia Martell, sister to Doran Martell, who would one day become Myrcella's good-father.
It had been a bitter potion to swallow, finding out she wasn't to wed the Prince. What made matters worse was Rhaegar took Lyanna Stark. Robert had started the rumour that she was kidnapped and raped to save face just in case he had to break their betrothal. Not that it mattered, the Stark bitch had died in the south and had haunted Cersei for the rest of her married life.
To anyone who listened, he claimed to still love Lyanna, and there was nothing Cersei could have done to mend the hole in his heart. In truth, Robert would have been as good a husband to Lyanna as he was to Cersei. Lyanna must have known and must have tricked Rhaegar into rescuing her. As fate would have it, Rhaegar, Elia and Lyanna all died.
Cersei was betrothed to Robert, who was a tall, handsome warrior. The man to kill Rhaegar Targaryen. Her own wedding was wonderful until the wedding night. Her new husband was too drunk and when he spilled his seed, he whispered the name Lyanna in her ear.
Add to that the wedding of Joffrey, and Cersei could say with absolution, she hated weddings. If someone were to poison Margaery at the feast, she might review her distaste for them a little. But now it was time to do what she hated the most. Mingle and have the lickspittles fawning all over her for royal favours.
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Cersei was met by Gyles Rosby, who made to kiss her hand, but instead coughed on her fingers. Lord Redwyne kissed her left cheek and Mace Tyrell both. A feast for a plague, she thought, as she escaped their clutches. She made for her father, but her uncle Kevan intervened.
"I hear you will be soon departing for another wedding, uncle," Cersei tried her best to be polite, but it was difficult around such bumbling idiots.
"Now that the realm is in steady hands," he glanced around the room, once he'd espied her father, he returned his attention. "I can leave for the moment. Of course, I shall return once the wedding is over," he bent his head towards her. "I hear you have… reservations regarding the match between Lancel and Amerei."
Cersei should have expected Margaery to have spread the rumour. In all honesty, she thought the insipid whore might have approached Cersei herself, but instead she had thrown Senelle to the lions in such a public manner.
"Of course I have concerns, uncle. I have concerns surrounding every match my family makes. Few are worthy of a Lannister. I just hope Lancel's new wife is worthy of him."
Kevan smiled. "You have surprised me, your grace. I would not have expected your concern for the cousin you take little interest in, unless it suits you. I thought it was mere court gossip."
"Let us hope Amerei's past is little more than idle gossip," Cersei picked up her skirts. "Now if you would excuse me, dear uncle, I have guests to attend to.
Cersei had spotted Qyburn in the corner, keeping to himself. She had found no use Senelle for, as she couldn't control which gossip which girl would spread.
"Your grace," the former maester bowed his head.
"What would be your preferred intentions for Senelle?"
"I could not say in such a crowded place. Walls in the Red Keep have eyes and ears everywhere. It would need to be somewhere private."
"Do you have any suggestions?"
"I have had my little birds search the entire Red Keep, your grace. It appears there are as many secret passageways than official ones. However, there are some places which cannot be penetrated."
Cersei felt uncomfortable. How many times had little birds witnessed her and her bedmates. Qyburn must have sensed her discomfort.
"Fear not, your grace. Your chambers are quite secure."
Cersei tried not to let her relief show. Instead, she took a sip of the Dornish Red she collected on her way to see Qyburn.
"Which places do you speak of?" Cersei lowered her voice.
"The black cells, your grace. They remain empty since Lord Tyrion was sent to the Nights Watch."
"Have you had word of his arrival at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea?"
"Not yet, I'm afraid, your grace. I will bring word as soon as I receive any news."
"Good. I will ensure you will the cells you desire for your work. I will add in a large bag of gold to ensure you have everything you need."
"Thank you, your grace," Qyburn bowed his head. "I will send word when everything is readied for the girl."
"If you would excuse me, I wish to speak with my father."
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Cersei was unable to speak with her father for the following two days. Preparations for Myrcella's departure were well underway, and Cersei sensed her father must be ignoring her or avoiding her. Either way, she was not pleased with Tywin Lannister.
Other than her father and twin avoiding her, as well as losing her children, there had been some bright points since Tommen's wedding.
Qyburn had worked with speed and efficiency, and the black cells he had chosen were soon ready. Senelle was called to the former Maester, expecting to be collecting a tonic for Cersei. The girl was never seen again.
Her greatest highlight had been the departure of the Queen of Thorns. Olenna Tyrell left with a retinue of twenty men before dawn on the morning after the wedding, citing the filthy stench of the city affecting her constitution being the reason for such a sudden departure.
Jaime had stayed with Tommen and Margaery on their wedding night. He told her nothing more than the talk of kittens had taken place, which satisfied Cersei for now. Though she knew the harlot was trying her best to sink her claws into the innocent Tommen.
Cersei wanted it to stop, to keep them apart. However, there was little she could do if her father would not see her.
Cersei escorted her daughter to the small inlet, along with her father, Jaime, and Tommen. Fortune would have that the harlot remained abed. There they would see Myrcella leave for Dorne, while Jaime would take his last look at the Red Keep.
Once Myrcella was settled in, Jaime intended to head for Casterly Rock. Cersei would be left alone with her father, Tommen, the harlot, and lickspittles.
They stood at the inlet, watching while the last of the luggage was packed onto the ship, when a breathless sounding Pycelle came charging towards them, shuffling as fast as he could.
The clink of his Maester's chain announcing his presence. By the time he reached their party, he was red-faced and puffing. He held something in his hand, a raven perhaps.
"Lord Jaime," Pycelle panted. "This just arrived for you."
Jaime took the scroll and removed the dark green wax seal. Cersei noticed he appeared nervous to read the contents. Cersei wanted to know what it said, but Jaime was a slow reader, and would rather hand it to their father first.
As his eyes scanned the small piece of paper, his faced reddened with a rage she had rarely seen. He handed the letter to Tywin, whose eyes ran over the news far quicker.
"What news?" Cersei couldn't wait a moment longer.
Her father handed her the letter, which she read.
Lord Jaime Lannister
I promised to give you the names of those who murdered your son, Joffrey. Only two people were involved, the rest were innocent bystanders who were unaware of the plot. The ones responsible were Lord Petyr Baelish, and Lady Olenna Tyrell.
I have organised assassins to follow Lord Baelish to Essos. He will reap what he has sown and will bother you no more. It is up to you to deal with Lady Olenna.
Yours
No One
Now she understood why Jaime had remained in Kings Landing. Had father known about this? Not that it mattered. It wasn't true, how could it be? What reason would Littlefinger have to kill Joffrey? Olenna Tyrell was more believable, as was Margaery. How could they believe such a letter. The little monster had killed Joffrey. Were they so blind to not wanting Tyrion to be guilty that they would believe such a tale? Grumkins and snarks held more truth to them.
"Lies," she spat. "Lies. This is Tyrion's doing. Can you not see?"
Her father approached her, his face wearing a dangerous mask.
"And if what it says is true? Do you want a girl complicit in the murder of one son married to another? Hm?"
"I never wanted him to wed Margaery Tyrell in the first place. I was kept out of the decision making. Instead, I was forced to approach her."
"I don't believe Margaery would kill Tommen. He is too useful to her right now," Jaime whispered so that Pycelle couldn't hear what was being said. "I will take Myrcella to Sunspear as agreed, and return to Kings Landing once you have decided how to deal with this, father."
"No, you won't. Ser Boros can escort the Princess to Dorne. I need you here," her father said. "Once Myrcella has gone, we will retire to my solar and discuss this matter further. I want to know why this letter was sent to you, and what we will do about it."
Cersei's heart sank. She had hoped this would delay Myrcella's departure, but alas it would be for minutes, not days. Therefore, she resigned herself to saying goodbye to her only daughter, all the while pondering upon who could have sent the letter on behalf of Tyrion.