Myrcella's bridal chamber.
When she told Cersei she would make Robert pay, it had not been some reckless outburst in the heat of the moment.
It had been her vow.
In a world without Lynn, what would it matter if I turned the Seven Kingdoms upside down?
Whoever wants my Lynn dead will die first!
Robert Baratheon... my father in name, is no exception!
Myrcella abruptly rose to her feet.
She knew hatred alone was useless.
Revenge required power, money, and a carefully laid plan.
She recalled her mother Cersei's words.
"War isn't fought with lives alone. It's fought with gold dragons."
Gold dragons...
Who in the Seven Kingdoms has the most gold dragons?
Her grandfather Tywin Lannister was wealthy, but he was not in King's Landing. Distant help could not meet an immediate need.
Aside from him, there was only that woman.
Sansa Stark.
The Master of Coin of the Seven Kingdoms!
Myrcella's nails nearly dug deep into her palms.
She knew going to that woman would mean inviting humiliation.
She would see the smug mockery on Sansa's face and hear the cruelest taunts.
But so what?
For Lynn, mere humiliation is nothing. Even if I have to kneel and lick the tips of Sansa's shoes, I'll do it willingly!
Myrcella opened the door, not a trace of hesitation remaining on her beautiful face.
The Master of Coin's office in the Tower of the Hand.
Although Sansa lived there, the place had no feminine touch, only heaps of parchment documents and the smell of ink and old paper hanging in the air.
Sansa Stark sat behind the enormous oak desk.
She was intently reviewing a tax report from the Reach.
She wore a plain gray gown, her long red hair pinned simply behind her head.
The girlish dreams