Night steeped King's Landing in a false stillness.
Maegor's Holdfast, that sturdy fortress, now seemed like Cersei Lannister's tomb.
When Lynn pushed open the heavy oak door, Cersei was sitting at her dressing table.
She had changed into a scarlet silk nightgown. Her golden hair was meticulously combed, and she had even applied exquisite makeup.
It was as though the woman who had broken down that afternoon had been nothing but an illusion.
She watched Lynn in the mirror. Her deep blue eyes held neither anger nor fear, only a deathly emptiness.
"You came."
Her voice was calm, as though she were stating a fact that had nothing to do with her.
Lynn closed the door. The sound of the bolt sliding home was piercing in the silent room.
He said nothing, merely walked over to the table and poured himself a cup of wine.
"Have you made up your mind?"
Lynn's voice broke the silence.
Cersei did not answer. She simply rose slowly to her feet.
In the candlelight, the scarlet nightgown outlined her still-graceful curves.
She approached Lynn step by step, her chin raised proudly, like a peacock about to mount a sacrificial altar.
"I am the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, the daughter of Tywin Lannister."
She seemed to hope that saying it would reclaim some pitiful shred of dignity.
Lynn smiled.
He set down his wine and reached out, gently lifting the silk strap of her nightgown with a fingertip.
"The Queen?"
There was a trace of amusement in his voice.
"A queen her husband despises, confined here, unable even to decide whom her children marry?"
Cersei's body went rigid.
"Tell me what you want."
"I want a promise."
Lynn looked past her at the pale moon outside the window.
"I want Myrcella."
Cersei's pupils abruptly