Maegor's Holdfast, the Queen Mother's bedchamber.
Cersei sat upright in a high-backed chair upholstered in crimson velvet. A gauze veil concealed the scars on her face, but could not hide the venom and madness burning in her green eyes.
Before her stood a gaunt man in gray robes, his back bowed.
Hallyne, head of the Alchemists' Guild in King's Landing, leader of the Pyromancers.
At that moment, an almost fanatical excitement gleamed in his cloudy eyes.
Cersei regarded him coldly. "Hallyne, I hear your Alchemists' Guild possesses a weapon of extraordinary power?"
Hallyne's cloudy eyes instantly blazed. He bowed even lower, almost prostrating himself on the floor. "Your most noble Grace, it is wildfire! It is the fire of destruction the gods bestowed upon mortals, liquid hell, flowing death. Once ignited, it cannot be extinguished. As it burns, it makes a terrible sound like ten thousand devils shrieking in unison. Its green flames can devour steel, burn down stone walls, and turn flesh and blood into wisps of smoke in an instant!"
He grew increasingly excited as he spoke, his spittle almost landing on the hem of Cersei's sumptuous gown.
Cersei listened quietly, but the eyes behind her veil grew brighter and brighter.
Green flames-devouring everything-everyone going up in smoke-
The scene Hallyne described spread and swelled madly in her mind.
She seemed to see all of King's Landing, those lowborn wretches wriggling like maggots in Flea Bottom, those people who had mocked her with filthy words and defiled her with their dirty, stinking limbs, all devoured by those eerie green flames.
Burn them to death-burn them all to death!
Let them go up in smoke!
Along with this city full of betrayal and stench!
Let them all turn to ashes!
Let them perish for my humiliation!
The thought burned