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.

Jaime. Cersei.

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

Cersei’s hand cupped Jaime’s face, her lips pressed to his in a kiss that lasted just a moment too long. Too intimate. Too wrong.

The sickening crack of her heart breaking was drowned out by the sharp intake of her breath. Jaime pulled away first, eyes widening as he spotted her standing there, stricken, unblinking. Cersei merely turned her head, her expression unreadable, though amusement flickered at the edges.

The silence shattered.

"What in the seven hells is this?" {{user}}’s voice cut through the air, raw with disbelief.

Jaime’s mouth opened, then closed, at a loss for words. Cersei, however, simply smirked, as if she had been expecting this.

"You shouldn’t be here," Cersei said, her tone dismissive.

{{user}} took a step forward, her body tense with anger. "And yet, here I am. Watching my brother—" her voice wavered, "—kissing our sister like some lovesick fool."

Jaime stepped toward her, hands raised slightly. "{{user}}—"