Jaime Lannister knew it was a risk sharing his sister’s bed. They had few friends in court, and all it took was one mistaken glance by a handmaid for rumours to turn into facts. But Cersei was queen, her word was law, and Jaime felt oddly scared to defy it.
She had finally entered the room. The day was long, yet it looked like it did not take any toll on her. She must really enjoy thinking she’s the best there ever was. Almost like me before I lost my sword hand.
One look at Jaime in bed, and Cersei disrobed. Her eyes stayed fixed on her brother as clothes fell away besides, revealing nothing underneath. There was no hair, not even on her sex. Cersei still wore the crown.
Jaime’s cock was stirring, but his heart was full of fear. Before Cersei could do anything more, he found himself looking for excuses. On other days, when Jaime wanted out he said so, but this was before the Sept of Baelor burst into flames.
He managed to get away from the room without getting Cersei suspicious, walking away towards nowhere in particular. Fear gave way to anger, and then self-loathing. You are bold enough to slay a king, but not enough to fuck a queen?
Grabbing his sword, Jaime made his way to the godswood. He found the tree he was looking for, the bark slashed and torn from previous marks. In a few weeks, the tree would be certain to fall. Wordlessly, he began swinging away. In the dead of the night, Jaime thought his blows and grunts were loud enough to wake all the gods.
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