Cersei would rather return to the Red Keep than Casterly Rock. Only there was a place fit for the Regent Queen Mother.
In her bedroom with its red curtains, Cersei felt the emptiness and scorching heat. The braziers never went out.
Even with Jaime there, he had lost his former beauty. Maimed and disfigured, he held little interest for Cersei, and he seemed to have become a different man...
He was not even as good as the Catelyn Black brothers, but this was Casterly Rock, and Cersei needed to be careful.
I should have married Rhaegar Targaryen, Cersei thought.
After all these years, the memory of being rejected by the Targaryens remained a wound.
On many nights, she dreamed of Prince Rhaegar sitting in the hall, playing his Silver-stringed Ancient Harp with long, delicate fingers.
Was there anyone in the world as beautiful as he was?
Rhaegar was no ordinary mortal. He had the blood of Old Valyria, the blood of dragons and gods.
At seventeen, Rhaegar had become a knight.
When he competed in jousts, Rhaegar Targaryen wore black plate over golden mail, with red, gold, and orange silk streaming from his helm like roaring flames.
Two of Cersei's uncles had fallen to his lance, along with a dozen of her father's finest warriors. The best of the Westerlands had all been defeated.
At night, the prince laid down his weapons and took up his harp. His songs brought tears to Cersei's eyes. When she was finally introduced to him, she was instantly lost in those melancholy purple eyes.
Beside Rhaegar, even her beautiful Jaime looked like a cowherd.
She loved Jaime, but Rhaegar was simply too enchanting, and he was a dragon prince besides.
Sadly, fate was too cruel. That madman Aerys had publicly mocked and rejected House