A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

was too much even to be in the same room as the dead woman. She pushed past Qyburn, out into the hall.
    Ser Osmund had been joined by his brothers Osney and Osfryd. “There is a dead woman in the Hand’s bedchamber,” Cersei told the three Kettleblacks. “No one is ever to know that she was here.”
    â€œAye, m’lady.” Ser Osney had faint scratches on his cheek where another of Tyrion’s whores had clawed him. “And what shall we do with her?”
    â€œFeed her to your dogs. Keep her for a bedmate. What do I care?
She was never here.
I’ll have the tongue of any man who dares to say she was. Do you understand me?”
    Osney and Osfryd exchanged a look. “Aye, Your Grace.”
    She followed them back inside and watched as they bundled the girl up in her father’s bloody blankets.
Shae, her name was Shae.
They had last spoken the night before the dwarf’s trial by combat, after that smiling Dornish snake offered to champion him. Shae had been asking about some jewels Tyrion had given her, and certain promises Cersei might have made, a manse in the city and a knight to marry her. The queen made it plain that the whore would have nothing of her until she told them where Sansa Stark had gone. “You were her maid. Do you expect me to believe that you knew nothing of her plans?” she had said. Shae left in tears.
    Ser Osfryd slung the bundled corpse up over his shoulder. “I want that chain,” Cersei said. “See that you do not scratch the gold.” Osfryd nodded and started toward the door. “No, not through the yard.” She gestured toward the secret passage. “There’s a shaft down to the dungeons. That way.”
    As Ser Osfryd went down on one knee before the hearth, the light brightened within, and the queen heard noises. Jaime emerged bent over like an old woman, his boots kicking up puffs of soot from Lord Tywin’s last fire. “Get out of my way,” he told the Kettleblacks.
    Cersei rushed toward him. “Did you find them? Did you find the killers? How many were there?” Surely there had been more than one. One man alone could not have killed her father.
    Her twin’s face had a haggard look. “The shaft goes down to a chamber where half a dozen tunnels meet. They’re closed off by iron gates, chained and locked. I need to find keys.” He glanced around the bedchamber. “Whoever did this might still be lurking in the walls. It’s a maze back there, and dark.”
    She imagined Tyrion creeping between the walls like some monstrous rat.
No. You are being silly. The dwarf is in his cell.
“Take hammers to the walls. Knock this tower down, if you must. I want them found. Whoever did this. I want them killed.”
    Jaime hugged her, his good hand pressing against the small of her back. He smelled of ash, but the morning sun was in his hair, giving it a golden glow. She wanted to draw his face to hers for a kiss.
Later,
she told herself,
later he will come to me, for comfort.
“We are his heirs, Jaime,” she whispered. “It will be up to us to finish his work. You must take Father’s place as Hand. You see that now, surely. Tommen will need you . . .”
    He pushed away from her and raised his arm, forcing his stump into her face. “A Hand without a hand? A bad jape, sister. Don’t ask me to rule.”
    Their uncle heard the rebuff. Qyburn as well, and the Kettleblacks, wrestling their bundle through the ashes. Even the guardsmen heard, Puckens and Hoke the Horseleg and Shortear.
It will be all over the castle by nightfall.
Cersei felt the heat rising up her cheeks. “Rule? I said naught of ruling. I shall rule until my son comes of age.”
    â€œI don’t know who I pity more,” her brother said. “Tommen, or the Seven Kingdoms.”
    She slapped him. Jaime’s arm rose to catch the blow, cat-quick . . . but this cat had a cripple’s stump in place of a right hand. Her fingers left red marks on his cheek.
    The sound brought their uncle to his feet. “Your father lies here
dead.
Have the decency to take your quarrel outside.”
    Jaime inclined his head in apology. “Forgive us, Uncle. My sister is sick with grief. She forgets herself.”
    She wanted to slap him again for that.
I must have been mad to think he could be Hand.
She would sooner abolish the office. When had a Hand ever brought her anything but grief?