Cersei
S
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er Kevan, had insisted that
any man and woman, boy or girl, who could lend a hand, or two if not a cripple,
should assist in the feast preparations. For that reason, the halls and steps
that led back to the main chambers were without a soul, and the only hearable
sounds were the weak, crackling sound the torches made as they burnt and the
steady rhythm of her own steps on the stone. In her mind, however, the walk
back to her bedchamber was anything but silent. He still takes me for a
child! I am a woman now, and already flowered. No. . . . I am a lion. I don’t
take any orders from sheep. I dress in silks and linen; need I remind him his
rags are made up of wool? The mere recalling of that conversation was
enough to bring Cersei’s blood to a boil.
“Tell me, Maester,” she recalled saying as she explored
the maze of shelves that covered the place. “How acquainted are you with the
vials and herbs you keep here?”
“In all honesty, not as wholly as I did once. You see,
time can make of a man’s mind a grievous thing, and there’s naught a maester
can do to mend it. I saw what it did to your lord grandfather’s when you were
but a little, blushy, plumpy. . .”
“Yes, Maester, I have heard the story.” she stopped him.
“I have also heard that you keep some pokeweed extract somewhere around here. ”
“Oh, yes, indeed, indeed . . . it is a rare and powerful
thing.” The Maester stood from his chair, walked towards one of the high
shelves at the far end of the room and pulled a small, blue dusty bottle with a
cork stopper. “What you see here is not of much use to a maester in treating
wounded men. Its contents are harmless to a man’s health, so long as he’s
already dead. but it still makes a fine collectible; any maester would tell you
that, for sure.”
“I shall have some of that. ” she said excited.
“Pray excuse me, my lady,” she remembered the man saying.
“but it just falls under my responsibilities as Maester to oversee that all
herbs and components the castle provides me with are put to best use. Plus, I
do not see what need a lady your age would have on such things. You should
repel those ideas ”
“I am not asking for it, Maester.” she said, already
angered.
“I am afraid I cannot do as you bid, my lady. Now,
please, there are more urgent matters that require my attention before your
lord father arrives. Should not my lady be greeting guests as they arrive?”
Despite having heard earlier from her uncle that Lord
Tywin and his personal guard were but a few leagues away from reaching the
gates of Casterly Rock, Cersei’s impatience built up as dusk fell upon the
castle without servants or horns announcing the arrival of the lion lord. The
longer she waited, the angrier she became. She could feel her face warming and
the vein on her neck growing more and more noticeable every time she turned
herself towards the mirror. How much longer will it take? Is it old horses
they offer hands to ride in the capital? She wished that her father was
there. She wanted to get her hands on the gifts he had surely brought her and
Jaime from King’s Landing for their name day. Yet, more than anything, she
could hardly wait to let him hear about Maester Creylen’s insolence and
Tyrion’s face when he saw her leaving the old man’s chambers.
Someone knocked twice at the door. What is it now? Has
the old man come to his senses? She went to see who it was.
Her twin brother was gallantly dressed in a crimson linen
long coat that was fully buttoned up to just above his waist; all held together
by a brown, golden-threaded leather belt. The long sleeves on his coat are long
and loosely fitted. His pants were plain dark, which added an informal touch to
an already elegant look.
“Your face. . . What happened to you?” It was the first
thing Jaime asked when he saw her. Cersei couldn’t find in her the words to
tell Jaime what happened without sounding foolish, so in the hope of having him
stir the conversation in a different way, she said nothing.
It worked, and after a brief silence, Jaime resumed. “I
have just come to inform you that father arrived a while ago and requests our
presence at the feast. Guests are starting to be seated and we don’t want them
to grow impatient.” Someone should have had the decency to let me know!
He took a moment to study her from head to toe. “Best you change to a
finer gown and a comely face better suited for a day like this,” he said.
“Here, let me help you.” He closed the door behind him. There were few things
that could appease her inner lioness, but not even the scent of the lavender
oils she treasured could compare to the feel of Jaime going wild about her
neck.
“I need your help, Jaime.” she whispered with a hint of
pleasure.
“I am helping you now, sweet sister.”
“I need your help with a different matter. There is
something of Creylen’s that I wish. An old ‘treasure’ the fool would rather
have me beg for.”
Jaime let go of
her neck and looked from side to side with half-closed eyes giving himself time
to consider. “Hmmm.” He rubbed his chin and answered. “On the condition that
you shall not make me beg for yours after all this feasting is over.”
“I
promise we will have our own little feast afterwards.” If we go unnoticed,
she reflected, and so it was settled.
Being on
their way to the maester’s chambers was without question considerably less
burdensome for Cersei than it had been earlier that day. Though much to her
surprise, despite Jaime’s presence, silence still remained. She noticed the
lightning on the halls was dimmer this time. Some of the torches that lined the
walls burnt out, for there was no one to see to them. Cersei thought to have
counted two-and-ten overall by the time they reached the maester’s door. Maybe
there were more, but trying to keep up with Jaime’s hurried pace caused her to
lost count at some point and so she quit it altogether. There was no sign of
light from under the door, so Jaime pushed his ear up against the door,
listening for even the slightest clue of clinking of metal against metal on a
chain. When he hinted at her that there was naught inside, she grabbed the
handle and slowly pushed the creaky door open. If the halls were low on burning
torches, the maester’s room completely lacked them, and that night’s moonlight
was not powerful enough to thoroughly illuminate the chambers. She stood inside
the room trying to remember from which shelf the maester had pulled the potion.
“What are you waiting for? Just grab it and be done with
it,” Jaime urged.
“Shut your mouth; I need to think. Best keep your eyes
open in case someone comes looking for us.”
“If it please my lady,” he said with a grin from ear to
ear, as he listened and kept guard at the door.
Cersei quickly decided to look over the shelves and open
drawers hoping to catch sight of the small, blue vial. It was not before having
inspected a fourth shelf that she finally found it placed behind a volume of A
Maester’s Guide to Dornish Wild Seeds with Descriptions and Applications. She
grabbed the potion and hid it up the sleeve of her gown. He is a greater
fool than I thought. “I hope you still haven’t watered yourself while
standing there, brother. Better not, there’s no time to change your small
clothes. We must attend the feast.”
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