A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

me when you hear talk of
dwarfs,
my lord.” She stood, to signal that the meeting was at an end.
    A blustery autumn wind was blowing when Cersei left the council chambers, and bells of Blessed Baelor still sang their song of mourning off across the city. In the yard twoscore knights were hammering each other with sword and shield, adding to the din. Ser Boros Blount escorted the queen back to her apartments, where she found Lady Merryweather chuckling with Jocelyn and Dorcas. “What is it you all find so amusing?”
    â€œThe Redwyne twins,” said Taena. “Both of them have fallen in love with Lady Margaery. They used to fight over which would be the next Lord of the Arbor. Now both of them want to join the Kingsguard, just to be near the little queen.”
    â€œThe Redwynes have always had more freckles than wits.” It was a useful thing to know, though.
If Horror or Slobber were to be found abed with Margaery . . .
Cersei wondered if the little queen liked freckles. “Dorcas, fetch me Ser Osney Kettleblack.”
    Dorcas blushed. “As you command.”
    When the girl was gone, Taena Merryweather gave the queen a quizzical look. “Why did she turn so red?”
    â€œLove.” It was Cersei’s turn to laugh. “She fancies our Ser Osney.” He was the youngest Kettleblack, the clean-shaved one. Though he had the same black hair, hooked nose, and easy smile as his brother Osmund, one cheek bore three long scratches, courtesy of one of Tyrion’s whores. “She likes his scars, I think.”
    Lady Merryweather’s dark eyes shone with mischief. “Just so. Scars make a man look dangerous, and danger is exciting.”
    â€œYou shock me, my lady,” the queen said, teasing. “If danger excites you so, why wed Lord Orton? We all love him, it is true, but still . . .” Petyr had once remarked that the horn of plenty that adorned House Merryweather’s arms suited Lord Orton admirably, since he had carrot-colored hair, a nose as bulbous as a beetroot, and pease porridge for wits.
    Taena laughed. “My lord is more bountiful than dangerous, this is so. Yet . . . I hope Your Grace will not think the less of me, but I did not come a maid entire to Orton’s bed.”
    You are all whores in the Free Cities, aren’t you?
That was good to know; one day, she might be able to make use of it. “And pray, who was this lover who was so . . . full of danger?”
    Taena’s olive skin turned even darker as she blushed. “Oh, I should not have spoken. Your Grace will keep my secret, yes?”
    â€œMen have scars, women mysteries.” Cersei kissed her cheek.
I will have his name out of you soon enough.
    When Dorcas returned with Ser Osney Kettleblack, the queen dismissed her ladies. “Come sit with me by the window, Ser Osney. Will you take a cup of wine?” She poured for them herself. “Your cloak is threadbare. I have a mind to put you in a new one.”
    â€œWhat, a white one? Who’s died?”
    â€œNo one, as yet,” the queen said. “Is that your wish, to join your brother Osmund in our Kingsguard?”
    â€œI’d rather be the
queen’s
guard, if it please Your Grace.” When Osney grinned, the scars on his cheek turned bright red.
    Cersei’s fingers traced their path across his cheek. “You have a bold tongue, ser. You will make me forget myself again.”
    â€œGood.” Ser Osney caught her hand and kissed her fingers roughly. “My sweet queen.”
    â€œYou are a wicked man,” the queen whispered, “and no true knight, I think.” She let him touch her breasts through the silk of her gown. “Enough.”
    â€œIt isn’t. I want you.”
    â€œYou’ve had me.”
    â€œOnly once.” He grabbed her left breast again and gave it a clumsy squeeze that reminded her of Robert.
    â€œOne good night for one good knight. You did me valiant service, and you had your reward.” Cersei walked her fingers up his laces. She could feel him stiffening through his breeches. “Was that a new horse you were riding in the yard yestermorn?”
    â€œThe black stallion? Aye. A gift from my brother Osfryd. Midnight, I call him.”
    How wonderfully original.
“A fine mount for a battle. For pleasure, though, there is nothing to compare to a gallop on a spirited young filly.” She gave him a smile and a squeeze. “Tell me