A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

as much as he likes.
“His Grace will be heartened to hear it . . . though surely you are needed in the Reach.”
    â€œMy son Willas is an able lad,” the man replied, refusing to take her pefectly good hint. “His leg may be twisted but he has no want of wits. And Garlan will soon take Brightwater. Between them the Reach will be in good hands, if it happens that I am needed elsewhere. The governance of the realm must come first, Lord Tywin often said. And I am pleased to bring Your Grace good tidings in that regard. My uncle Garth has agreed to serve as master of coin, as your lord father wished. He is making his way to Oldtown to take ship. His sons will accompany him. Lord Tywin mentioned something about finding places for the two of them as well. Perhaps in the City Watch.”
    The queen’s smile had frozen so hard she feared her teeth might crack.
Garth the Gross on the small council and his two bastards in the gold cloaks. Do the Tyrells think I will just serve the realm up to them on a gilded platter?
The arrogance of it took her breath away.
    â€œGarth has served me well as Lord Seneschal, as he served my father before me,” Tyrell was going on. “Littlefinger had a nose for gold, I grant you, but Garth—”
    â€œMy lord,” Cersei broke in, “I fear there has been some misunderstanding. I have asked Lord Gyles Rosby to serve as our new master of coin, and he has done me the honor of accepting.”
    Mace gaped at her. “Rosby? That . . .
cougher
? But . . . the matter was agreed, Your Grace. Garth is on his way to Oldtown.”
    â€œBest send a raven to Lord Hightower and ask him to make certain your uncle does not take ship. We would hate for Garth to brave an autumn sea for nought.” She smiled pleasantly.
    A flush crept up Lord Tyrell’s thick neck and spread across his cheeks. “This . . . your lord father assured me . . .”
    His mother appeared beside him, and slid her arm through his own. “It would seem that Lord Tywin did not share his plans with our regent, I can’t
imagine
why. Still, there ’tis, no use hectoring Her Grace. She is quite right, you must write Lord Leyton before Garth boards a ship. You know the sea will sicken him, and make his farting worse.” She gave Cersei a toothless smile. “Your council chambers will smell sweeter with Lord Gyles, though I daresay that coughing would drive me to distraction. We all adore dear old Uncle Garth, but the man is flatulent, that cannot be gainsaid. I do abhor foul smells.” Her wrinkled face wrinkled up even more. “I caught a whiff of something unpleasant in the holy sept, in truth. Mayhaps you smelled it too?”
    â€œNo,” Cersei said coldly. “A scent, you say?”
    â€œMore like a stink.”
    â€œPerhaps you miss your autumn roses. We have kept you here too long.” The sooner she rid the court of Lady Olenna the better. Lord Tyrell would doubtless send off a goodly number of his soldiers to see his mother safely home.
    â€œI do long for the fragrances of Highgarden, I confess it,” said the old lady, “but of course I can not leave until I have seen my sweet Margaery wed to your precious little Tommen.”
    â€œI await that day eagerly as well,” Lord Tyrell put in, too loudly. “Lord Tywin and I were on the very point of setting a date, as it happens. Perhaps you and I might take up that discussion, Your Grace.”
    â€œSoon.”
    â€œSoon will serve,” said Lady Olenna, with a sniff. “Now come along, Mace, let Her Grace get on with her . . . grief.”
    I will see you dead, old woman,
Cersei promised herself as the Queen of Thorns tottered off to her towering guardsmen, a pair of seven footers she called Left and Right.
We’ll see how sweet a corpse you make.
    She went in search of Tommen again, rescued him from Margaery and her cousins, and made for the doors. Outside, the rain had finally stopped. The autumn air smelled sweet and fresh. Tommen started to take his crown off.
    â€œPut that back on,” Cersei commanded him.
    â€œIt makes my neck hurt,” he said, but he did as he was bid. “Will I be married soon? Margaery says that as soon we’re wed we can go to Highgarden.”
    â€œYou are not going to Highgarden, but you can ride back to the castle.” Cersei beckoned to Ser Meryn Trant. “Bring His Grace a mount, and ask Lord Gyles if he