Jaime's face twitched, and the fingers of his right hand unconsciously tightened around the sword in his grip.
He wanted Cersei to live a free and happy life, but he wanted his sister to survive even more. What should he do?
He was no longer the reckless young Kingsguard of sixteen years ago, and Robert was no longer the mad king who had forced half of Westeros into rebellion. There was no elite Westerlands army stationed outside King's Landing under his father's command… Should he make a humiliating choice, or fight to the death for pride, dragging his family into eternal ruin?
After a moment of hesitation, Jaime realized that neither his wisdom nor experience could resolve the current predicament. The only way to save Cersei was to survive, inform his father of the situation inside the Red Keep, and have Lord Tywin pressure Robert from all directions in an attempt to rescue her.
This was true, but Robert asking him to choose his own prison? Wasn't that a form of mockery? If he really chose, and ended up imprisoned in his preferred location until Cersei was forced to give birth to Robert's child, could he still call himself the proud Jaime Lannister?
The arm holding the sword trembled with inner turmoil. Myrcella clung to Jaime's arm, sensing the tension through his armor. She tightened her thin arms around him, looked up at her uncle with tearful eyes, and pleaded for him to show restraint this time.
...
"The rumors are true. Jaime is my lover, the first and last boy I ever loved, and the first and last man to sleep with me." Jaime's remaining rationality was desperately trying to suppress the beast in his heart, but Cersei, kneeling on the ground, gave him no time to hesitate. She was silent for a moment, then suddenly said, "Kill him, Jaime. Either he dies, or we die together. If you dare leave me here like a breeding sow, I will hate you until the day I die!"
To be imprisoned in the Red Keep, to give birth to a child for the man she despised like a sow, while making their father afraid to take action for her and her brother's sake? Rather than live such a life, it would be better to fight. Death would be the worst outcome. In the game of thrones, you either win or die... but even if you lose, you should choose your own fate. That was the last shred of dignity and pride for a Lannister.
...
...
"Father, Mother was just speaking in anger!" Joffrey finally dared not remain silent and used the excuse his sister had prepared. If the previous argument had just been a quarrel, the queen's latest words were a direct threat to the prince's life: "No matter what, you are my father!"
"She was just speaking in anger, Your Majesty." For the first time, Jaime could think of nothing else to say and simply echoed the words. Goosebumps rose all over his back. In his heart, he prayed to the gods to silence his twin sister, but when he opened his mouth, he spoke even more harshly: "If you dare to act again based on her angry words, then see if I'll just stand here and watch."
Cersei may have been speaking in anger, but who says angry words aren't true? Robert was tired of guessing, and for once, he decided to listen to his Eddard's advice: "Alright, I understand. A king shouldn't strike his queen. I'm waiting for your answer, Kingslayer. The Red Keep, or Dragonstone?"
"You succeeded in getting me pregnant once, Robert." Cersei didn't give Jaime the chance to feel awkward. She raised her head and cursed viciously, determined to use the children to force her brother into action. "But I had Jaime find a woman to help me get rid of the child. That was your only chance at a legitimate prince, and you didn't even know he existed. I used medicine to kill him in my womb, then dumped that little prince—who hadn't even taken human form—into a stinking ditch... It was a wonderful feeling!"
"How can you remember it so clearly?" Robert wasn't angry, or perhaps he was but hid it, an even more terrifying prospect. He sneered and said, "I've climbed into your bed dozens of times."
Cersei smiled in a way that was almost eerie. "Yes, dozens of times when you couldn't find a whore after drinking, you stumbled into my room. But I always found ways to satisfy you with my hands, my mouth, my chest... You couldn't tell the difference anyway. You were always drunk and forgot everything by the next day, except for those two times when I was half-awake and you had already pinned me down. I didn't have time to use all those tricks I use to deal with men. I took a long bath afterward, but unfortunately, I still couldn't avoid it."
"Was that just something said in anger too?" Robert's vague memories suddenly matched her description. He stared at Jaime, eyes blazing.
"Wondering why I hate you so much? On our wedding night, when we lay in the same bed for the first time, you climbed on top of me, reeking of alcohol, and whispered 'Lyanna', your precious brother's sister, that whore who stole men!" Cersei gave her brother no chance to explain and poured out all the resentment she had buried for years. Then she delivered the final blow: "From that moment, I swore never to let you have a prince of your own! Thank the gods, I succeeded!"
It was true. There was no reason—Robert simply knew it by instinct. Cersei couldn't have made this up! The king, who had just been calm a moment ago, suddenly transformed into a raging beast, like wildfire exploding. Damn Eddard Stark, damn his perfect plan, damn the Lannisters! He roared furiously and swung his warhammer at the queen. "You bitch, go to hell!"
"You dare!" Jaime roared in fury, pulling Myrcella down like a ragdoll as he lunged and thrust his sword at Robert. To hell with family, to hell with honor. All he knew was that if he could stand by and watch another man hurt his twin sister in front of him, then he was no longer Jaime Lannister!
"Kill him, Jaime!" Cersei had achieved her goal. She screamed and rolled to avoid the first hammer swing, then crawled under the table to hide. "If we can't kill him, we'll die here today and be brother and sister in the next life!"
The warrior's instinct saved Robert. Though he was nearly blinded by rage, he wasn't going to throw his life away for Cersei. He gave up the chase, turned around, and swung his hammer sideways at Jaime. The warhammer that had once killed Rhaegar Targaryen smashed toward the Kingslayer with terrifying force, forcing him to take a step back and raise his sword to block.
Clang!
It wasn't a direct clash, just a forceful deflection. The two weapons collided with a deafening sound, revealing the strength of both men.
"Jaime!" Arys Oakheart shouted in fury. Seeing the king under attack, he pulled aside his white cloak and attacked his former sworn brother without hesitation. Behind him, Boros Blount hesitated for a moment, then clenched his teeth and followed.
"Stop!" Robert forced Jaime back with another swing, and only then did he feel a pang in his heart. He saw his daughter crying on the floor, trying to get up and stop the fight. Cersei and Jaime's affair now seemed undeniable, but he had watched the three children grow up. If he accidentally killed one of his own, there would be no time for regret.
Two Kingsguard, plus Robert and his three men, if they surrounded him, it would be game over. But he disdained to rely on numbers to defeat the few. "Take the princes and princess away. I'll deal with this man myself!"
"Your Majesty!" The two Kingsguard were shocked.
"Do as I say!" Robert gripped his hammer tightly, blood surging. It had been a long time since he had a good fight. "Kingslayer, whether your whore sister was lying or not, let the gods decide. Let's have a trial by combat. If you win, it proves you and your sister are innocent. If I win... then go to hell and regret not getting on the ship to Dragonstone today!"
(To be continued.)
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