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. She had a featherbed to sleep in, and a privy with a marble seat, sweetened by a basketful of herbs. It was the silver all along, not the Spider. He will need me to teach him how to rule and keep him safe from his enemies.
I am the queen, she told herself. SEPTA UNELLA, of the Most Devout, serving the Seven at the Great Sept of Baelor. A betrothal can be arranged, if that is your wish, but any marriage will need to wait. The second time she woke all at once, heart pounding, convinced that someone was looming over her.
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