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singer’s high blue boots were full of blood, and he had told them how Margaery would fondle herself as she watched her cousins pleasuring him with their mouths. At other times he would sing for her whilst she sated her lusts with other lovers. “Who were they?” the queen demanded, and the wretched Wat named Ser Tallad the Tall, Lambert Turnberry, Jalabhar Xho, the Redwyne twins, Osney Kettleblack, Hugh Clifton, and the Knight of Flowers.
    That displeased her. She dare not besmirch the name of the hero of Dragonstone. Besides, no one who knew Ser Loras would ever believe it. The Redwynes could not be a part of it either. Without the Arbor and its fleet, the realm could never hope to rid itself of this Euron Crow’s Eye and his accursed ironmen. “All you are doing is spitting up the names of men you saw about her chambers. We want the
truth!
”
    â€œThe truth.” Wat looked at her with the one blue eye that Qyburn had left him. Blood bubbled through the holes where his front teeth had been. “I might have . . . misremembered.”
    â€œHoras and Hobber had no part of this, did they?”
    â€œNo,” he admitted. “Not them.”
    â€œAs for Ser Loras, I am certain Margaery took pains to hide what she was doing from her brother.”
    â€œShe did. I remember now. Once I had to hide under the bed when Ser Loras came to see her.
He must never know,
she said.”
    â€œI prefer this song to the other.” Leave the great lords out of it, that was for the best. The others, though . . . Ser Tallad had been a hedge knight, Jalabhar Xho was an exile and a beggar, Clifton was the only one of the little queen’s guardsman.
And Osney is the plum that makes the pudding.
“I know you feel better for having told the truth. You will want to remember that when Margaery comes to trial. If you were to start lying again . . .”
    â€œI won’t. I’ll tell it true. And after . . .”
    â€œ. . . you will be allowed to take the black. You have my word on that.” Cersei turned to Qyburn. “See that his wounds are cleaned and dressed, and give him milk of the poppy for the pain.”
    â€œYour Grace is good.” Qyburn dropped the bloody razor into a pail of vinegar. “Margaery may wonder where her bard has gone.”
    â€œSingers come and go, they are infamous for it.”
    The climb up the dark stone steps from the black cells left Cersei feeling breathless.
I must rest.
Getting to the truth was wearisome work, and she dreaded what must follow.
I must be strong. What I must do I do for Tommen and the realm.
It was a pity that Maggy the Frog was dead.
Piss on your prophecy, old woman. The little queen may be younger than I, but she has never been more beautiful, and soon she will be dead.
    Lady Merryweather was waiting in her bedchamber. It was the black of night, closer to dawn than to dusk. Jocelyn and Dorcas were both asleep, but not Taena. “Was it terrible?” she asked.
    â€œYou cannot know. I need to sleep, but fear to dream.”
    Taena stroked her hair. “It was all for Tommen.”
    â€œIt was. I know it was.” Cersei shuddered. “My throat is raw. Be a sweet and pour me some wine.”
    â€œIf it please you. That is all that I desire.”
    Liar.
She knew what Taena desired. So be it. If the woman was besotted with her, that would help ensure that she and her husband remained loyal. In a world so full of treachery, that was worth a few kisses.
She is no worse than most men. At least there is no danger of her ever getting me with child.
    The wine helped, but not enough. “I feel soiled,” the queen complained as she stood beside her window, cup in hand.
    â€œA bath will set you right, my sweet.” Lady Merryweather woke Dorcas and Jocelyn and sent them for hot water. As the tub was filled, she helped the queen disrobe, undoing her laces with deft fingers and easing the gown off her shoulders. Then she slipped out of her own dress and let it puddle on the floor.
    The two of them shared the bath together, with Cersei lying back in Taena’s arms. “Tommen must be spared the worst of this,” she told the Myrish woman. “Margaery still takes him to the sept every day, so they can ask the gods to heal her brother.” Ser Loras still clung to life, annoyingly. “He is fond of her cousins as well. It will go hard on him, to lose them all.”
    â€œAll three may not be