Night, the Queen Mother's chambers in Maegors Holdfast.
Cersei Lannister was dressed in a soft, smooth, snow-white nightgown, her golden curls cascading over her shoulders, shimmering faintly in the moonlight.
The wine glass in her hand reflected the candlelight in the room, the summer red inside gently swaying.
Queen Mother Cersei stood barefoot by the window, seemingly oblivious to the coolness of the stone slabs beneath her feet.
The gentle breeze from outside stirred Queen Mother Cersei's hair, and she took a small sip of summer red, asking, "Are you sure?"
Osney Kettleblack covertly observed Cersei's captivating back and said, "Yes, Your Grace, absolutely certain."
His Adam's apple bobbed as he continued, "I disguised myself as a Septon and overheard some of Ser Lancel's confession to the Archbishop.
He mentioned strongwine… and you… his crying… because of the distance, I couldn't hear very clearly."
Queen Mother Cersei's voice turned cold: "My dear Ser Osney, have you seen Lancel with your own eyes?"
Ser Osney swallowed hard and replied, "Yes, although Ser Lancel survived his serious injuries, his brown hair has turned gray, and he is now as frail as an old man."
A cold sneer escaped Queen Mother Cersei's lips: "Indeed, a useless fellow, cowardly and foolish."
She drained the wine in her glass, then placed the goblet on a small round table nearby, paused, and said, "Come here, Osney."
"As you command." Osney stepped forward.
Cersei gazed at the night sky outside the window and added, "Stand beside me."
Queen Mother Cersei's voice sounded like a summons from the Seven Gods in Osney's ears, and he suppressed his inner excitement: "Yes, Your Grace."
Ser Osney came and stood beside Queen Mother Cersei, pretending to admire the star-studded night view.
Ser Osney's peripheral vision occasionally stole glances to the side, and Queen Mother Cersei's lips curled slightly.
Queen Mother Cersei silently continued to gaze out the window, the bright moon hanging high, its pure moonlight casting a silver glow over Maegors Holdfast.
Queen Mother Cersei raised her beautifully sculpted chin; she knew very well when a man was most obedient.
"Ser, is your sword sharp?" Queen Mother Cersei's voice was gentle as she turned her body, raising her jewel-like emerald eyes to look at her young guard.
Ser Osney's body involuntarily turned with her, and within his sight… it was so white it seemed to glow.
He steadied himself, quickly averted his gaze, and at the same time, took a step back.
"I'm sorry, I apologize, please forgive my presumption…" Osney seemed not to know what to say.
A clear, alluring low laugh came from beside his ear, and Queen Mother Cersei's Rose-colored lips parted slightly: "How truly adorable."
Queen Mother Cersei moved closer to Osney, extending a soft hand, and said, "Osney, I haven't heard your answer yet."
With a gentle grasp, Osney's body instantly stiffened, and he immediately replied, "I am your… sharpest sword."
Queen Mother Cersei then said, "Will you watch your Queen Mother be slandered?"
The grip gradually tightened, layer by layer, and Osney couldn't help but gasp, saying, "I… absolutely… will not let that person go."
Queen Mother Cersei showed a hint of satisfaction and said, "It must not be discovered; many people are watching me."
"Your Grace, you only need to tell me the target." Osney's breathing was heavy.
"The Archbishop."
"The Archbishop?! Hiss!"
Queen Mother Cersei's beautiful eyes fixed on Osney, murmuring seductively, "Reward a supremely loyal knight with a night of pleasure.
You serve your Queen Mother excellently and are rewarded for it."
Ser Osney hesitated.
Queen Mother Cersei withdrew her tempting hand and stroked his cheek, saying, "Are you afraid, my good knight?"
Released from the tempting hand, a deep sense of loss welled up in Osney's heart.
His bloodshot eyes stared directly at Queen Mother Cersei, and then… Osney Kettleblack succumbed.
The young new knight could not refuse Cersei's beauty; he also wanted… both, power and a beautiful woman.
"Your Grace, I am yours, everything at your command."
After Ser Osney left, Queen Mother Cersei put on her soft, gold-trimmed slippers… swish, swish, she hummed a little tune, picked up the wine jug, and poured wine into the glass.
At most a month… Queen Mother Cersei returned to the window, taking a sip of summer red in good spirits.
A triumphant smile played on her lips; once her two swords returned, not even the Old Lion could force her.
As the wine in her glass neared its bottom, Queen Mother Cersei's gaze sharpened, and also… that fool Lancel, he must be expelled from King's Landing before Jaime returns.
Preferably… the Old Lion's face suddenly appeared in her mind, Queen Mother Cersei thought for a moment, and she ultimately abandoned the more effective method.
Clutching the wine glass, Queen Mother Cersei let out a cold snort.
...
...
Rumor had it that when Robb Stark announced the specific date of his wedding to Jeyne, Black Walder directly burned the Stark banner in the military camp.
Subsequently, Black Walder led the Frey army and directly left Riverrun.
Soon after… news spread of the Red Keep envoy, Tywin's second son, Tyrion Lannister, negotiating a marriage alliance with the Tully.
Along the way, after Black Walder received a raven from Lord Walder, he returned to Riverrun at a swift pace.
Upon meeting Stark King, Black Walder humbly begged for forgiveness and presented a large amount of jewelry to show the Frey's blessings for Robb and Jeyne's wedding.
...
At Riverrun, as negotiations progressed, Tyrion hung the Lannister roaring lion banner outside the inn he had booked.
Tyrion, a little tipsy, slurred, "I love the Golden Gallery and the Lion's Mouth in Casterly Rock most of all, and the Hall of Heroes, where you can hear the thunder when the tide comes in."
Edmure Tully seemed not to hear Tyrion's enthusiastic words; he just sullenly took a sip of wine.
Tyrion glanced at the listless Edmure, pouring him wine as he said, "Edmure, tomorrow is your nephew's wedding; you should be happy."
"Of course I'm happy, although time was short, I used the best of everything…"
Speaking, Edmure took a sip of wine, he stared for a while at Tyrion, who was beaming, and couldn't help but ask, "Why are our peace talks always being delayed?"
"Edmure, you know, I am very sincere." Tyrion shrugged.
He then helplessly spread his hands: "The problem lies in the withdrawal of the Lannister-Tyrell joint forces from the Riverlands.
My demand is to sign the marriage agreement first and then withdraw the troops, but Stark King's demand is that our army must withdraw from the Riverlands first before he will discuss your marriage to my sister."
Edmure frowned, saying, "Why do I feel like war is about to break out again?"
Tyrion scratched his cheek, saying, "Edmure, you see, Lannister is very sincere."
His voice carried a hint of worry: "It… shouldn't… be."
Tyrion reached out his small hand and patted Edmure, comforting him, "A beautiful marriage is like a delicious fruit; it needs time to ripen, wait a little, and it will be sweeter."
He grinned: "Sweet, ripe fruit, one bite and it bursts with juice."
Edmure cleared his throat, he stiffly changed the subject: "Tomorrow, Robb's wedding will host everyone in Riverrun, I have specially prepared a good seat for you, Tyrion."
"Edmure, thank you so much, this is a rare opportunity, I will enjoy it greatly…"
As he spoke, Tyrion paused, his expression turning somber, and he sighed softly.
Edmure asked curiously, "What's wrong, my friend?"
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