King's Landing, just after nightfall.
Three days had passed since Lynn's wedding.
Cersei's bedchamber was deadly silent.
Robert Baratheon staggered through the door, the heavy smell of alcohol instantly invading the entire room.
His face, bloated from alcohol and indulgence, carried a sickly flush.
Cersei Lannister sat at her dressing table.
She had changed out of the gorgeous Queen's gown, wearing only a black silk nightgown.
Golden hair cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall.
She didn't turn her head, just looking coldly through the bronze mirror at Robert barging in.
"Get out."
Cersei's voice was colder than the night wind outside the window.
"Get out?"
Robert let out a coarse laugh.
"You dare speak to me like this now?"
He swayed behind Cersei, his huge shadow enveloping her completely.
"All of King's Landing is mine, including everything here, even you are mine; where do you want me to go?"
Robert reached out his fan-sized hand, wanting to grab Cersei's smooth shoulder.
Cersei stood up abruptly, avoiding his touch with disgust.
"Don't touch me with your dirty hands."
"Dirty?"
Robert's movement froze.
Anger ignited instantly in his cloudy eyes.
"Where the fuck am I dirty?"
"I am the King of the Seven Kingdoms! You are my lawfully wedded Queen!"
"You should feel honored to serve me."
Robert took a step forward, trying to grab her again.
"Don't you like Lyanna? Go find her then; if not, go find your whores. Anyway, don't touch me; I find you dirty and fear getting diseased!"
For this Robert lingering among whores, Cersei's eyes were filled with undisguised contempt and disgust.
The exchange with her daughter reminded her of that night of humiliation.
She had had enough of Robert, because she had learned Robert planned to use 3000 militia to deal with Lynn.
Militia, what use were they?
Sent to die?
It was as good as nothing!
She didn't know why herself.
Seeing Robert target Lynn made her angry!
Cersei's undisguised contemptuous gaze stabbed fiercely into Robert's already fragile self-esteem.
He remembered their wedding night; this woman under him was like a dead fish, unwilling even to make a sound!
He remembered for twenty years, every time he wanted to touch her, she looked at him with this gaze.
He remembered a few nights ago, she openly contradicted him for that Northern Lynn!
Boundless anger mixed with alcohol thoroughly washed away his last shred of reason.
Slap——!
A crisp and loud slap exploded in the silent bedchamber.
Cersei's face was slapped fiercely to one side; a clear five-finger mark quickly appeared on her fair cheek.
A trace of blood also seeped from the corner of her mouth.
Cersei slowly turned her head back.
She didn't cry, didn't scream.
In those green eyes, all emotions had faded, leaving only indifference.
Cersei elegantly wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth with her fingertip, then looked at the glaring red on her finger.
This eerily calm appearance made Robert feel unprecedented panic instead.
He even instinctively took a step back.
"You... what look is that?"
Robert roared with a fierce appearance but weak inside.
He tried to cover his guilt with his voice.
Cersei didn't answer him.
She just looked at him, like looking at a ridiculous clown, a dead man.
"What?"
"Feel wronged because I hit you?"
Robert felt uncomfortable all over under her gaze; he roared again.
This time, to embolden himself.
"Do you think I don't know what you're thinking?"
"Do you think I don't know what your damned father is thinking?"
"Lannister!"
"Besides gold dragons and conspiracies, what else is in the brains of you Lannisters?!"
Robert seemed to find an outlet, starting to vent his long-accumulated suspicion and fear indiscriminately.
"Why do you think I sent that bastard Lynn to the North to die?"
"Do you think I'm just jealous he has a dragon?"
Robert let out a manic laugh, full of self-righteous smugness.
"You stupid women will never understand!"
Robert walked up to Cersei.
"Wolf, Falcon, Fish!"
"Ned Stark, Lysa Arryn, Hoster Tully!"
"They are allies! Brothers who overthrew the Targaryens with me back then!"
"But now, they are also the biggest threat under my throne!"
Madness flashed in Robert's eyes.
He lowered his voice, as if sharing the most vicious secret.
"I want them to fight!"
"I want them to fight to the death for Lynn!"
"Lynn is Ned's bannerman; that stubborn mule Ned will definitely not sit idly by! He will definitely send troops!"
"And that mad woman Lysa Arryn, she is the de facto ruler of the Vale now; facing the butcher knife I put to her neck, she will definitely not let it go either!"
"Behind her is the entire House Tully! The entire Riverlands!"
"Wolf bites Falcon, Falcon pecks Fish, Fish tears Wolf!"
A sickly excitement appeared on Robert's face.
He seemed to already see the scene of blood flowing like rivers among the three great houses.
"When they fight until both sides suffer, vitality greatly damaged, I will intervene as King to mediate!"
"That bitch Lysa will die!"
"And by then, they will no longer have the power to threaten my throne!"
"They can only kneel at my feet like dogs, begging for my mercy!"
"This is the King's statecraft! Do you understand?!"
Robert turned his head, looking at Cersei triumphantly, waiting for her shock.
But what he saw was still those cold, dead green eyes.
"So,"
Cersei finally spoke, her voice terrifyingly calm.
"You are warning me not to let the Lannisters intervene."
"Exactly!"
Robert nodded heavily.
"You'd better write to your scheming father."
"Tell him to shrink in Casterly Rock obediently like a turtle, counting his gold dragons properly, just like in the Usurper's War!"
"If he dares send soldiers across the Golden Tooth, I'll let him know who the true master of Westeros is!"
"I will not only weaken the North, I will also let everyone know, whether Stark or Lannister, they must submit under my Baratheon iron hoof!"
With that, Robert burped contentedly.
He felt unprecedentedly clear-headed, unprecedentedly powerful.
He thought he controlled everything.
...
Robert finally passed out drunk, collapsed on Cersei's bed like a dead pig, emitting thunderous snores.
Cersei stood quietly on the spot, the swelling on her face making her feel no pain.
In her mind, there was only one thought.
Must tell Lynn.
Immediately! Right now!
She didn't even realize herself that her entire being was already shaped by Lynn.
Her soul, her body, her proud heart.
All were thoroughly conquered by that man in those few humiliating and crazy nights.
Robert was no longer her husband; he was just an obstacle about to be pushed off the cliff by her own hands!
Cersei didn't stay for a moment.
She didn't even adjust her disheveled robes, walking quickly out of the bedchamber.
Now that Lynn was Myrcella's husband, she couldn't go directly to Lynn anymore.
But she could go to Myrcella.
When Cersei pushed open the door of Myrcella's wedding room, Myrcella was sitting by the bed, holding the white puppy named "Snowball."
Seeing the slap mark on Cersei's face, Myrcella stood up abruptly, the puppy in her arms whimpering in fright.
"Mother?!"
Myrcella's voice carried irrepressible shock.
"Your face..."
Cersei closed the door, walking quickly to her daughter.
She didn't explain, just repeated Robert's crazy plan word for word in a tone so calm it was heart-palpitating.
With every word spoken, Myrcella's face paled a shade.
When Cersei finished the last word, Myrcella's body began to tremble uncontrollably.
Looking at the mark of humiliation on her mother's face, then thinking of Lynn about to be pushed to death.
A monstrous rage surged instantly from the depths of her heart!
Robert Baratheon!
That nominal father!
That stupid pig who only knew how to drink!
Not only did he want to kill her husband, he even dared to hit her mother!
How dare he!
"He wants Lynn dead."
Myrcella's voice was squeezed through her teeth.
"Yes."
"So, we can't let him succeed."
"But the Lannister army cannot march north."
Cersei's voice dropped very low.
"That would confirm Robert's suspicion; he would use this as an excuse to unite other houses to war against us."
"We cannot give him this opportunity."
Myrcella's nails dug deep into her palms.
Snowball the puppy seemed to sense its owner's emotion, whimpering uneasily in a low voice.
"Then what should we do?"
Myrcella looked up.
In those beautiful green eyes, there was no trace of maidenly softness left, only the purest killing intent.
"Watch helplessly as Lynn goes to die?"
"No."
A smile finally appeared on Cersei's face.
"Your grandfather may not be able to send troops, but he can send other things."
Cersei reached out, gently stroking her daughter's cheek.
"War isn't just fought with lives, but with gold dragons."
"What does Lynn's Gift lack most?"
"Iron, weapons, artisans who can arm those wildlings."
Cersei's smile was beautiful and deadly.
"I will write to Tywin."
"The Lannister fleet will bypass the port of King's Landing and land at White Harbor."
"They will bring the best iron ore from the Westerlands, the toughest steel, and the most outstanding smiths from Casterly Rock."
"Your grandfather may not like Lynn, but he will definitely act."
"Trust me."
"Tell Lynn everything I told you today."
"I understand."
Myrcella nodded, her voice returning to calm.
She carefully reached out, gently touching the slap mark on Cersei's face with her fingertip.
That touch was hot, scorching.
Burning away the last bit of hesitation and reluctance in her heart completely.
"Mother,"
Myrcella raised her eyes.
In those green orbs shone a cold light that even alarmed Cersei.
"Don't worry."
"He won't have slapped you for nothing."
"I promise."
Cersei stroked Myrcella's golden hair, not yet realizing the hidden meaning in Myrcella's words, only thinking she was feeling sorry for her.
Cersei's figure drifted away in the empty corridor, finally disappearing completely.
Myrcella stood alone in the center of the luxurious wedding room.
Everything in the room was blindingly red; red curtains, red carpets...
This was supposed to be the color symbolizing joy as Lynn said.
At this moment in her eyes, only blood-like hideousness remained.
The slap mark on her mother's face was branded deep into her mind, lingering.
She thought of Robert Baratheon's face bloated from alcohol.
And his coarse roaring and the disgusting smell of alcohol on him.
That man, nominally her father.
He hit her birth mother.
And wanted to kill her husband!
A hatred welled up from Myrcella's heart.
Just then.
Creak——
The door was pushed open gently.
Lynn walked in from outside.
Eyes met.
Myrcella looked at Lynn's travel-worn appearance, at the fatigue and sharpness in his eyes too late to hide.
She knew he definitely hadn't been socializing recently.
He went to see someone, discussed something.
She didn't know what, but it must be related to this coming storm.
"My mother was just here."
Myrcella spoke first.
"Robert got drunk; he told all his plans."
She repeated everything Cersei told her to Lynn word for word without any pause.
From Robert's vicious scheme to provoke a chaotic war between the North, the Vale, and the Riverlands.
To Tywin Lannister's countermeasure of secretly transporting supplies from White Harbor.
She spoke fast, clearly, without mixing any personal emotions.
Everything was stating objective facts.
Lynn listened quietly.
He didn't interrupt, nor ask further.
Because he had already clarified Robert's plan and who Lysa's so-called allies were through Greensight these past few days.
Naturally, he also knew the Lannisters wouldn't openly stand on his side this time.
But he didn't refuse Myrcella and Cersei's good intentions.
At the most critical moment, House Tyrell, which appeared most friendly, chose silence instead.
While Cersei, who had always been somewhat hostile to him, chose to help.
Even Lynn himself was somewhat surprised.