A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

“When I want your counsel I will ask for it. Leave me, ser. I must needs dress.”
    â€œYour supper guests, I know. What plot is this, now? There are so many I lose track.” His glance fell to the water beading in the golden hair between her legs.
    He still wants me.
“Pining for what you’ve lost, brother?”
    Jaime raised his eyes. “I love you too, sweet sister. But you’re a fool. A beautiful golden fool.”
    The words stung.
You called me kinder words at Greenstone, the night you planted Joff inside me,
Cersei thought. “Get out.” She turned her back to him and listened to him leave, fumbling at the door with his stump.
    Whilst Jocelyn was making certain that all was in readiness for the supper, Dorcas helped the queen into her new gown. It had stripes of shiny green satin alternating with stripes of plush black velvet, and intricate black Myrish lace above the bodice. Myrish lace was costly, but it was necessary for a queen to look her best at all times, and her wretched washerwomen had shrunk several of her old gowns so they no longer fit. She would have whipped them for their carelessness, but Taena had urged her to be merciful. “The smallfolk will love you more if you are kind,” she had said, so Cersei had ordered the value of the gowns deducted from the women’s wages, a much more elegant solution.
    Dorcas put a silver looking glass into her hand.
Very good,
the queen thought, smiling at her reflection. It was pleasant to be out of mourning. Black made her look too pale.
A pity I am not supping with Lady Merryweather,
the queen reflected. It had been a long day, and Taena’s wit always cheered her. Cersei had not had a friend she so enjoyed since Melara Hetherspoon, and Melara had turned out to be a greedy little schemer with ideas above her station.
I should not think ill of her. She’s dead and drowned, and she taught me never to trust anyone but Jaime.
    By the time she joined them in the solar, her guests had made a good start on the hippocras.
Lady Falyse not only looks like a fish, she drinks like one,
she reflected, when she made note of the half-empty flagon. “Sweet Falyse,” she exclaimed, kissing the woman’s cheek, “and brave Ser Balman. I was so distraught when I heard about your dear, dear mother. How fares our Lady Tanda?”
    Lady Falyse looked as if she were about to cry. “Your Grace is good to ask. Mother’s hip was shattered by the fall, Maester Frenken says. He did what he could. Now we pray, but . . .”
    Pray all you like, she will still be dead before the moon turns.
Women as old as Tanda Stokeworth did not survive a broken hip. “I shall add my prayers to your own,” said Cersei. “Lord Qyburn tells me that Tanda was thrown from her horse.”
    â€œHer saddle girth burst whilst she was riding,” said Ser Balman Byrch. “The stableboy should have seen the strap was worn. He has been chastised.”
    â€œSeverely, I hope.” The queen seated herself and indicated that her guests should sit as well. “Will you have another cup of hippocras, Falyse? You were always fond of it, I seem to recall.”
    â€œIt is so good of you to remember, Your Grace.”
    How could I have forgotten?
Cersei thought.
Jaime said it was a wonder you did not piss the stuff.
“How was your journey?”
    â€œUncomfortable,” complained Falyse. “It rained most of the day. We thought to spend the night at Rosby, but that young ward of Lord Gyles refused us hospitality.” She sniffed. “Mark my word, when Gyles dies that ill-born wretch will make off with his gold. He may even try and claim the lands and lordship, though by rights Rosby should come to us when Gyles passes. My lady mother was aunt to his second wife, third cousin to Gyles himself.”
    Is your sigil a lamb, my lady, or some sort of grasping monkey?
Cersei thought. “Lord Gyles has been threatening to die for as long as I have known him, but he is still with us, and will be for many years, I do hope.” She smiled pleasantly. “No doubt he will cough the whole lot of us into our graves.”
    â€œLike as not,” Ser Balman agreed. “Rosby’s ward was not the only one to vex us, Your Grace. We encountered ruffians on the road as well. Filthy, unkempt creatures, with leather shields and axes. Some had stars sewn on their jerkins, sacred stars of seven points, but they