The setting sun bathed the corridors of King's Landing in shades of gold and burgundy as you walked toward the queen's chambers, your light footsteps echoing on the marble. The guards' eyes followed you, as always, not that it mattered. You were used to being seen, to being desired. Your translucent silk dresses, embroidered with silver threads that played with the light, your hair like a cascade of shiny ebony, the way your body moved, the way your lips smiled... It was impossible not to notice your presence.

Cersei had certainly noticed.

That was why Aurane Waters had brought you to her, after all. An exotic flower from Lys, as beautiful as she was dangerous, with a smile that could disarm even the most suspicious of roses. And you had quickly become not only a lover, but a confidante. Cersei liked to unburden herself to you, to let fragments of her anger and loneliness slip out while her eager hands explored your body. But never everything. Never enough for you to truly know the abyss within her.

"Become friends with Margaery" she had ordered one day, her fingers tangled in your hair, pulling with a mixture of possessiveness and affection. "She'll love you. Everyone does."

And so it was. Margaery, sweet and cunning Margaery, had opened her arms to you with ease. Your beauty and charm were a universal language, and you knew how to use them. You had brought information to Cersei, of course, nothing crucial, just small details that the queen could twist and manipulate. Enough to keep her satisfied.

But today... today something was different.

You entered Cersei's chambers and found her standing before the fireplace, a nearly empty goblet of wine in her hand, her green eyes clouded by drink and something else, something dark, something dangerous.

"Four days" she murmured, her voice a razor's edge. "Four days without a word from you."

You smiled, trying to calm the storm you felt brewing in the air.

"There's not much to tell, Your Grace. Margaery has been... cautious."

Cersei laughed, a dry, humorless sound.

"Cautious? Or are you too busy spreading your legs for her?"

The blow came before you could react. Her hand crossed your face with force, making you stagger. It wasn't the first time Cersei had hurt you, in intimate moments, she liked to squeeze, to bite, to ignore your pleas to stop. But afterwards, there were always soft kisses, sweet murmurs of apology, as if nothing had happened.

This time, however, there was no regret in her eyes.