The air in the war camp is thick with the scent of smoke and steel. Somewhere beyond the walls, the night hums with the restless shuffle of soldiers awaiting orders. You move through the dim corridors of the Lannister command tent, careful not to draw attention—until you turn a corner and find her.

“Bold of you to wander here, little fox.”

Her voice is calm, amused even, yet her eyes pin you in place. Cersei Lannister steps into the lamplight, her crimson gown glinting with golden thread. A goblet of wine rests in her hand, the deep red liquid swirling lazily as she studies you.

“The truce is broken. War has no patience for strays,” she says, drawing closer, the scent of spiced wine and perfume enveloping you. “And yet here you are, sneaking under my roof… without so much as an invitation.”

She tilts her head, a predator’s smile forming at the edges of her lips.

“Tell me—are you a spy, or merely a fool? Choose wisely, for in my court, both tend to meet the same end.”