A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

waited, letting me come to her. She gives, but I must ask
. “You should have come sooner,” she murmured, when he took her in his arms. “Why couldn’t you have come sooner, to keep him safe? My boy . . .”
    Our boy
. “I came as fast I could.” He broke from the embrace, and stepped back a pace. “It’s war out there, Sister.”
    â€œYou look so thin. And your hair, your golden hair . . .”
    â€œThe hair will grow back.” Jaime lifted his stump.
She needs to see
. “This won’t.”
    Her eyes went wide. “The Starks . . .”
    â€œNo. This was Vargo Hoat’s work.”
    The name meant nothing to her. “Who?”
    â€œThe Goat of Harrenhal. For a little while.”
    Cersei turned to gaze at Joffrey’s bier. They had dressed the dead king in gilded armor, eerily similar to Jaime’s own. The visor of the helm was closed, but the candles reflected softly off the gold, so the boy shimmered bright and brave in death. The candlelight woke fires in the rubies that decorated the bodice of Cersei’s mourning dress as well. Her hair fell to her shoulders, undressed and unkempt. “He killed him, Jaime. Just as he’d warned me. One day when I thought myself safe and happy he would turn my joy to ashes in my mouth, he said.”
    â€œTyrion said that?” Jaime had not wanted to believe it. Kinslaying was worse than kingslaying, in the eyes of gods and men.
He knew the boy was mine. I loved Tyrion. I was good to him
. Well, but for that one time . . . but the Imp did not know the truth of that.
Or did he?
“Why would he kill Joff?”
    â€œFor a whore.” She clutched his good hand and held it tight in hers. “He
told
me he was going to do it. Joff knew. As he was dying, he
pointed
at his murderer. At our twisted little monster of a brother.” She kissed Jaime’s fingers. “You’ll kill him for me, won’t you? You’ll avenge our son.”
    Jaime pulled away. “He is still my brother.” He shoved his stump at her face, in case she failed to see it. “And I am in no fit state to be killing anyone.”
    â€œYou have another hand, don’t you? I am not asking you to best the Hound in battle. Tyrion is a
dwarf
, locked in a cell. The guards would stand aside for
you
.”
    The thought turned his stomach. “I must know more of this. Of how it happened.”
    â€œYou shall,” Cersei promised. “There’s to be a trial. When you hear all he did, you’ll want him dead as much as I do.” She touched his face. “I was lost without you, Jaime. I was afraid the Starks would send me your head. I could not have borne that.” She kissed him. A light kiss, the merest brush of her lips on his, but he could feel her tremble as he slid his arms around her. “I am not whole without you.”
    There was no tenderness in the kiss he returned to her, only hunger. Her mouth opened for his tongue. “No,” she said weakly when his lips moved down her neck, “not here. The septons . . .”
    â€œThe Others can take the septons.” He kissed her again, kissed her silent, kissed her until she moaned. Then he knocked the candles aside and lifted her up onto the Mother’s altar, pushing up her skirts and the silken shift beneath. She pounded on his chest with feeble fists, murmuring about the risk, the danger, about their father, about the septons, about the wrath of gods. He never heard her. He undid his breeches and climbed up and pushed her bare white legs apart. One hand slid up her thigh and underneath her smallclothes. When he tore them away, he saw that her moon’s blood was on her, but it made no difference.
    â€œHurry,” she was whispering now, “quickly,
quickly
, now, do it now, do me now. Jaime Jaime Jaime.” Her hands helped guide him. “Yes,” Cersei said as he thrust, “my brother, sweet brother, yes, like that, yes, I have you, you’re home now, you’re home now, you’re
home
.” She kissed his ear and stroked his short bristly hair. Jaime lost himself in her flesh. He could feel Cersei’s heart beating in time with his own, and the wetness of blood and seed where they were joined.
    But no sooner were they done than the queen said, “Let me up. If we are discovered like this . . .”
    Reluctantly he rolled away and helped her off the altar. The pale marble was