“They were going to mutilate it, but we managed to bring it back.”
Fragrances fled the Great Hall when Bronn’s naked body was brought inside. It was covered with blood and shit, head mangled beyond recognition and on the bloodied parts a feast for flies. Cersei found herself not cringing as much as she thought she would. Anger had made her mind oddly clear.
She had done well to make this a private audience. If there was any commoner in the Great Hall, their presence alone would have made her want to burn them alive. The war against Daenerys Targaryen was faring better than against the commonfolk, but surely, now it was time to end it. After the formalities of court, Cersei beckoned an audience with Qyburn. “Any news at the Twins?” she asked him.
“Not yet, Your Grace,” he said, “but I fear we may have to postpone the march to Winterfell. Ellaria Sand advances her troops from Dorne. We do not have enough men to guard the Red Keep.”
The fucking bitch. Daenerys sending Ellaria’s troops back to Dorne was a move she did not expect. She had hoped to take Winterfell sooner, but would now have to retreat. Before Cersei relayed the command to Qyburn, she noticed an odd expression playing on his face. His eyes were more alive than ever, as if waiting in anticipation.
“Send the necessary ravens to Euron,” she told him. “And as for the problem with the people of King’s Landing-”
Qyburn interrupted her, as if reading her thoughts. “Shall I call Hallyne the Pyromancer?”
There it is again. The glint was certainly stronger now, impatiently waiting for her response. Qyburn wanted her to respond to the Righteous Saviors with wildfire, and so did she, but his impatience was now making her uneasy. What does he have to gain? Cersei was certain that Qyburn was not spying on her. His mind was too invested in experiments with corpses and dragon skulls, and she gave him plenty of samples to satiate his curiosity.
Is that it?
All this time, Cersei Lannister was trying to stop the rebellions by fighting fire with fire, but none of them had succeeded. Casualties were increasing on both sides, but she seemed to be emerging dominant, even by Qyburn’s own admission. Was that a lie? At the end of it all, does he wish for nothing more than more bloodshed for more samples?
She recalled her imprisonment by the High Sparrow, and her promise of vengeance on those who wronged her. But effecting revenge was making her new enemies, and fighting them never seemed to end. Suppressing the commoners was no answer to solving the conflict. She needed to be smarter.
Cersei Lannister watched Qyburn’s eyes dim as she ordered him to do the opposite.
*
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