A Feast for Dragons

wish to make
confession.”
    Cersei dropped to her knees. “I do, High Holiness. The Crone
came to me as I slept with her lamp held high—”
    “To be sure. Unella, you will stay and make a record of Her
Grace’s words. Scolera, Moelle, you have my leave to go.” He pressed the
fingers of his hands together, the same gesture she had seen her father use a
thousand times.
    Septa Unella took a seat behind her, spread out a parchment,
dipped a quill in maester’s ink. Cersei felt a stab of fright. “Once I have
confessed, will I be permitted to—”
    “Your Grace shall be dealt with according to your sins.”
    This man is implacable
, she realized once
again. She gathered herself for a moment. “Mother have mercy on me, then. I
have lain with men outside the bonds of marriage. I confess it.”
    “Who?” The High Septon’s eyes were fixed on hers.
    Cersei could hear Unella writing behind her. Her quill made
a faint, soft scratching sound. “Lancel Lannister, my cousin. And Osney
Kettleblack.” Both men had confessed to bedding her, it would do her no good to
deny it. “His brothers too. Both of them.” She had no way of knowing what
Osfryd and Osmund might say. Safer to confess too much than too little. “It does
not excuse my sin, High Holiness, but I was lonely and afraid. The gods took
King Robert from me, my love and my protector. I was alone, surrounded by
schemers, false friends, and traitors who were conspiring at the death of my
children. I did not know who to trust, so I … I used the only means
that I had to bind the Kettleblacks to me.”
    “By which you mean your female parts?”
    “My flesh.” She pressed a hand to her face, shuddering. When
she lowered it again, her eyes were wet with tears. “Yes. May the Maid forgive
me. It was for my children, though, for the realm. I took no pleasure in it.
The Kettleblacks … they are hard men, and cruel, and they used me
roughly, but what else was I to do? Tommen needed men around him I could
trust.”
    “His Grace was protected by the Kingsguard.”
    “The Kingsguard stood by useless as his brother Joffrey
died, murdered at his own wedding feast. I watched one son die, I could not
bear to lose another. I have sinned, I have committed wanton fornication, but I
did it for Tommen. Forgive me, High Holiness, but I would open my legs for
every man in King’s Landing if that was what I had to do to keep my children
safe.”
    “Forgiveness comes only from the gods. What of Ser Lancel,
who was your cousin and your lord husband’s squire? Did you take him into your
bed to win his loyalty as well?”
    “Lancel.” Cersei hesitated.
Careful
, she
told herself,
Lancel will have told him everything
. “Lancel
loved me. He was half a boy, but I never doubted his devotion to me or my son.”
    “And yet you still corrupted him.”
    “I was lonely.” She choked back a sob. “I had lost my
husband, my son, my lord father. I was regent, but a queen is still a woman,
and women are weak vessels, easily tempted … Your High Holiness knows
the truth of that. Even holy septas have been known to sin. I took comfort with
Lancel. He was kind and gentle and I needed someone. It was wrong, I know, but
I had no one else … a woman
needs
to be loved, she
needs a man beside her, she … she …” She began to sob
uncontrollably.
    The High Septon made no move to comfort her. He sat there
with his hard eyes fixed on her, watching her weep, as stony as the statues of
the Seven in the sept above. Long moments passed, but finally her tears were
all dried up. By then her eyes were red and raw from crying, and she felt as if
she might faint.
    The High Sparrow was not done with her, however. “These are
common sins,” he said. “The wickedness of widows is well-known, and all women
are wantons at heart, given to using their wiles and their beauty to work their
wills on men. There is no treason here, so long as you did not stray from your
marriage bed whilst His Grace King Robert was still alive.”
    “Never,” she whispered, shivering. “
Never
, I
swear it.”
    He paid that no mind. “There are other charges laid against
Your Grace, crimes far more grievous than simple fornications. You admit Ser
Osney Kettleblack was your lover, and Ser Osney insists that he smothered my
predecessor at your behest. He further insists that he bore false witness
against Queen Margaery and her cousins, telling tales of fornications,
adultery, and high treason, again at