The dim torchlight flickered against the stone walls of the castle corridor as {{user}} moved silently through the halls, her boots barely making a sound. She wasn’t looking for trouble—trouble had a way of finding her. But the hushed voices ahead made her pause. She knew those voices.

Cersei. Jaime.

Curiosity pulled her forward, though something in her gut warned her to turn back. Instead, she rounded the corner and froze.

Jaime’s hand was on Cersei’s cheek, his lips pressed to hers in a kiss too intimate to be anything but damning. A kiss that sent ice through {{user}}’s veins.

Her breath caught, a sharp inhale breaking the silence. Jaime pulled back first, his golden hair tousled, eyes widening as he saw her standing there. Cersei turned, slow and unbothered, her expression unreadable—except for the flicker of something smug in her eyes.

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.

"What the hell is this?" {{user}}’s voice cracked through the stillness, sharp with disbelief.

Jaime stepped toward her, hands raised slightly, as if that would undo what she’d just seen. "It’s not—"

"Don’t lie to me," {{user}} cut him off, her voice rising. "Tell me I didn’t just see that. Tell me you’re not—" She shook her head, as if trying to rid herself of the image. "Gods, you two!"

Cersei exhaled through her nose, a quiet laugh. "What a dramatic little thing you are," she said smoothly.