The Throne Room
The throne room reeked of blood.
Donnar's corpse had been dragged away. The floor scrubbed.
But dark red stains still seeped through the stone cracks.
Robert Baratheon's frenzy faded.
Replaced by gloom.
He glared at Cersei standing nearby.
His wife in name only.
Cleared of all charges—thanks to his most trusted knight's victory.
The greatest irony under the sun.
Though everything was arranged, his heart still churned.
"The gods... have rendered their judgment."
Robert's words squeezed through gritted teeth.
"The queen, Cersei Lannister—innocent."
He waved dismissively. Like shooing flies.
"GET OUT!"
"All of you—OUT!"
The nobles fled gratefully.
No one wanted to provoke the king now.
Cersei bowed slightly. Straightened her spine.
Escorted by two respectful Kingsguard, she left the oppressive hall.
Her confinement—lifted.
She was free.
Maegor's Holdfast
When Cersei returned to her gilded cage—
—the Gold Cloaks at the door were gone.
Everything looked the same.
But felt completely different.
She walked to the window. Pushed it open.
Afternoon sun and wind poured in. Stirred her golden hair.
She gazed at her garden below. The bustling King's Landing beyond.
A feeling of rebirth.
Yet a shadow lingered in this newfound freedom.
Lynn's shadow.
She unconsciously touched her inner thigh.
BANG—!
The door burst open. Interrupted her thoughts.
Jaime Lannister rushed in.
His face radiant with relief and uncontainable passion.
"Cersei! We won!"
He strode forward. Arms open—
—to embrace her tightly.
But the instant his hands neared her shoulders—
—Cersei recoiled like a startled cat. Stepped back. Avoided his embrace.
Jaime's motion froze mid-air. His smile solidified.
"What's wrong?"
"Don't touch me."
Cersei's voice was cold. Devoid of warmth.
Her blue eyes held an alienation Jaime had never seen.
"What?"
Jaime thought he'd misheard.
"Cersei, we should celebrate! I—"
He stepped forward again. Tried to grab her hand.
SLAP!
A crisp sound.
Cersei used all her strength. Slapped Jaime hard.
"I said—don't touch me!"
Jaime stood stunned. Clutching his burning cheek.
His loving green eyes now held only shock and confusion.
"Have you gone mad?!"
"I'm not mad."
Cersei looked at him. No guilt in her eyes.
"I'm just tired. Want to be alone."
"Tired?"
Jaime's emotions finally exploded.
"You nearly died! And now you tell me you're tired?!"
He stepped forward. Gripped her shoulders hard. Shook her.
"Tell me—what happened?!"
"It's that Lynn! Did he say something to you?!"
Jaime wasn't stupid.
Lynn's godlike dual-sword technique. That duel—ostensibly for Cersei, but reeking of control.
And now Cersei's extreme abnormality...
Everything was wrong!
Cersei's body trembled violently.
Lynn's warning echoed like a demon's curse.
"Your body belongs to me."
"Not Jaime. Not your future lovers."
"Don't make me bring my Gold Cloaks to fetch you."
"And that mole on your inner thigh—very sexy."
No. Lynn knows everything!
I can't let him control me again!
"LET GO OF ME!"
Cersei shoved Jaime away with all her strength.
"GET OUT!"
"If you hadn't been injured, would I have made Lynn my champion?!"
Cersei shrieked hysterically.
She grabbed the wine cup, mirror—everything within reach—
—and hurled them at Jaime.
"I don't want to see you! GET OUT!"
Jaime dodged clumsily.
Stared at this crazed woman.
Confusion filled his heart.
He looked at her deeply.
That gaze—full of disappointment. Pain.
He said nothing more. Turned. Slammed the door.
The room finally quieted.
Cersei's strength drained. She slid down the wall.
Buried her face in her knees. Muffled sobs escaped.
The Next Day
Lynn bid farewell to Robert in the throne room.
"Your Grace. King's Landing's unrest has settled. I should fulfill my promise—cross the Narrow Sea and bring you the Targaryen remnants' heads."
"But first, I must return to Winterfell. Handle some personal matters."
Robert drank sullenly.
Glanced at Lynn. Then at Ned standing resolutely beside him.
His fury burned hotter.
These two Northmen—like mountains crushing his chest.
"Go! GO!"
He waved irritably.
"Get lost! Take your people back to your frozen wasteland!"
He couldn't stand looking at Lynn another second.
"Ser Lynn!"
A clear, childish voice rang from the hall's entrance.
Everyone turned.
Princess Myrcella lifted her pale yellow skirt. Ran in quickly.
After their time together, she no longer feared Lynn. Instead felt curiosity and affection.
She looked up with her porcelain-doll face. Green eyes pleading.
"Are you returning to Winterfell?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Then... can you take me with you?"
Myrcella gathered courage. Spoke loudly.
"I want to see the Wall! And play in the snow!"
At Lynn's estate, she'd experienced unprecedented freedom and joy.
The magical soap. Sansa's enchanting stories. Arya's "improper" games.
All far more interesting than the Red Keep's tedious etiquette lessons.
She didn't want to return to that gilded cage.
Ned Stark frowned.
Cersei in the crowd turned deathly pale!
Myrcella... how could she...
I told her not to...
Robert froze. Then looked drunkenly at his daughter.
He saw her brilliant Lannister gold hair. Those green eyes identical to Jaime's.
Inexplicable disgust surged.
"You want to go North?"
Robert's mouth twisted into a strange smile.
"Good! Excellent!"
He slapped his thigh. As if making a brilliant decision.
"Go! Let Lynn teach you Northern rules!"
He pointed at Lynn, then Myrcella. Laughed loudly.
"Better than staying in King's Landing—learning wickedness from your vile mother!"
"Your Grace! This isn't proper!"
Cersei finally screamed.
Sending a princess North—that's a hostage!
"SHUT UP!"
Robert's laughter stopped. He roared at Cersei.
"Do you have a say here?!"
"She's MY daughter!"
"I say where she goes!"
Cersei's body swayed. Nearly collapsed.
She looked helplessly at her brother Jaime.
But Jaime just watched coldly. Eyes empty.
It's over.
Everything's over.
Lynn bowed slightly. Voice calm.
"As you command, Your Grace."
He walked to Myrcella. Extended his hand.
"Your Highness. Shall we?"
Myrcella cheered. Placed her small hand in Lynn's large palm without hesitation.
Lynn led Myrcella out—
—under Cersei's utterly despairing gaze.
Jaime's Resolve
In the long corridor, sunlight filtered through stained glass. Cast mottled shadows.
Jaime Lannister emerged from a pillar's shade.
He watched Lynn and Myrcella's retreating figures.
In his green eyes—a cold, dangerous flame ignited.
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