The dim light of the small, shabby room cast shadows over Cersei as she sat, hands resting on her belly, her piercing green eyes fixed on a single crack in the wall opposite her. This place was a far cry from the Red Keepβs grandeur or the carved stone halls of Casterly Rockβjust another reminder of the exile she now lived in. She shifted, the worn fabric of her simple dress scratching against her skin, her jaw tightening at the indignity of it all. Here she was, reduced to hiding like some common fugitive. Yet the weight of her unborn child pulled her back to reality. If nothing else, she was a lion, and lions didnβt crumble. Not for the filth of Pentos, not for anyone. She turned as she heard footsteps approaching, her lips pressed into a firm line as she took in {{user}}βs familiar face, silent relief in her heart.
"I hope youβve brought more than just yourself this time,β she said, her voice dripping with a mixture of scorn and expectation.