Cersei
“The Dornish Princess-”
“She’s not a princess,” Cersei corrected. “Lady Alysane.”
“Forgive me, my queen. Lady Alysane has not left her chambers except for the feast and to break fast with you, my queen.”
“And what of the prince?”
“He took the air with the king on the south terrace this morning, but likewise, is secluded.” The scullery maid bit her lip. “In Lady Alysane’s chambers.”
Cersei looked up from her embroidery. The scullery maid was plain. All palace maids were plain. It did not stop Robert from ogling them, though.
“Really?” Cersei said, surprised.
“Yes your grace. They sleep in the same chambers, as well. They seem to be quite enamored with one another.”
Well, they are still newly wed and she is not yet with child, so it’s nothing to be alarmed by… Cersei thought. She looked back down at the floral pattern she stitched, the lion of Lannister in gold thread, against a backdrop of white roses.
“And what of Lord and Lady Wyll?”
“She has visited with her good-brother and his wife, and sent a raven to castle Wyll, inquiring after her children. Lord Wyll visited with his brother, and then went to the Godswood to pray before returning to his chambers.”
“Keep your eyes on them,” Cersei said, handing the maid a pouch of coins. “I wish to know all.”
“Yes, your grace,” the maid said, and with a quick curtsey, she flitted away.
Cersei did not trust the easy smile of the Dornish prince. There was hatred in his deep black eyes. Cersei remembered when Oberyn’s mother sent him and his sister to Casterly Rock, in hopes of a marriage pact, and she remembered how father had looked at Oberyn with his russet skin, black hair, and Elia’s wild curls and broad features, and suggested that Elia wed Tyrion. He meant it as an insult – Tyrion was only a baby, hideous and misshapen, a dwarf, with mismatched eyes and a head far too big for his tiny body – but the Martells took it in stride, thanking their hosts and leaving gifts before departing.
Cersei’s silver combs had gone missing around this time, and she was certain Elia had taken it. Father would not do anything about it, and Cersei had let the insult fester deep in her heart for all these years.
“Don’t be foolish,”Jamie had chastised her when she told him the Dornish were coming. Her brother looked just like her; Golden hair, emerald eyes, delicate features. It was said he was the most handsome man in the seven kingdoms. “It was probably a servant.”
“No, the princess admired them,” Cersei said stubbornly. “I do not want them in the palace.”
Jamie took her by the hips and pulled her close.
“You cannot fight Robert.”
“No,” she whispered. And then her brother had taken her to bed.
A sharp pain in her finger pulled her from her reverie. Her needle pricked her finger, and a ruby droplet of blood pooled in the wound.
“Damn,” she said. A drop of blood dripped onto her embroidery, darkening one of the white roses blood red.