A Feast for Dragons

Purple Harbor,
so best you have a new face as well.” He cupped her chin, turned her head this
way and that, nodded. “A pretty one this time, I think. As pretty as your own.
Who are you, child?”
    “No one,” she replied.
    ----

    CERSEI
    On the last night of her imprisonment, the queen could not
sleep. Each time she closed her eyes, her head filled with forebodings and
fantasies of the morrow.
I will have guards
, she told herself.
They
will keep the crowds away. No one will be allowed to touch me
. The
High Sparrow had promised her that much.
    Even so, she was afraid. On the day Myrcella sailed for
Dorne, the day of the bread riots, gold cloaks had been posted all along the
route of the procession, but the mob had broken through their lines to tear the
old fat High Septon into pieces and rape Lollys Stokeworth half a hundred
times. And if that pale soft stupid creature could incite the animals when
fully clothed, how much more lust would a queen inspire?
    Cersei paced her cell, restless as the caged lions that had
lived in the bowels of Casterly Rock when she was a girl, a legacy of her grandfather’s
time. She and Jaime used to dare each other to climb into their cage, and once
she worked up enough courage to slip her hand between two bars and touch one of
the great tawny beasts. She was always bolder than her brother. The lion had
turned his head to stare at her with huge golden eyes. Then he licked her
fingers. His tongue was as rough as a rasp, but even so she would not pull her
hand back, not until Jaime took her by the shoulders and yanked her away from
the cage.
    “Your turn,” she told him afterward. “Pull his mane, I dare
you.”
He never did. I should have had the sword, not him
.
    Barefoot and shivering she paced, a thin blanket draped
about her shoulders. She was anxious for the day to come. By evening it would
all be done.
A little walk and I’ll be home, I’ll be back with Tommen,
in my own chambers inside Maegor’s Holdfast
. Her uncle said it was the
only way to save herself. Was it, though? She could not trust her uncle, no
more than she trusted this High Septon.
I could still refuse. I could
still insist upon my innocence and hazard all upon a trial
.
    But she dare not let the Faith sit in judgment on her, as
that Margaery Tyrell meant to do. That might serve the little rose well enough,
but Cersei had few friends amongst the septas and sparrows around this new High
Septon. Her only hope was trial by battle, and for that she must needs have a
champion.
    If Jaime had not lost his hand …
    That road led nowhere, though. Jaime’s sword hand was gone,
and so was he, vanished with the woman Brienne somewhere in the riverlands. The
queen had to find another defender or today’s ordeal would be the least of her
travails. Her enemies were accusing her of treason. She had to reach Tommen, no
matter the costs.
He loves me. He will not refuse his own mother. Joff
was stubborn and unpredictable, but Tommen is a good little boy, a good little
king. He will do as he is told
. If she stayed here, she was doomed,
and the only way she would return to the Red Keep was by walking. The High
Sparrow had been adamant, and Ser Kevan refused to lift a finger against him.
    “No harm will come to me today,” Cersei said when the day’s
first light brushed her window. “Only my pride will suffer.” The words rang
hollow in her ears.
Jaime may yet come
. She pictured him riding
through the morning mists, his golden armor bright in the light of the rising
sun.
Jaime, if you ever loved me …
    When her gaolers came for her, Septa Unella, Septa Moelle,
and Septa Scolera led the procession. With them were four novices and two of
the silent sisters. The sight of the silent sisters in their grey robes filled
the queen with sudden terrors.
Why are they here? Am I to die?
The silent sisters attended to the dead. “The High Septon promised that no harm
would come to me.”
    “Nor will it.” Septa Unella beckoned to the novices. They
brought lye soap, a basin of warm water, a pair of shears, and a long
straightrazor. The sight of the steel sent a shiver through her.
They
mean to shave me. A little more humiliation, a raisin for my porridge
.
She would not give them the pleasure of hearing her beg.
I am Cersei of
House Lannister, a lion of the Rock, the rightful queen of these Seven
Kingdoms, trueborn daughter of Tywin Lannister. And hair grows back
.
“Get on with it,” she said.
    The elder of the two