chapter 106 part 1
Chapter 106: Targaryen
Cersei Lannister leaned back in her chair, her hands resting on the armrests. Her tone was cool. "Varys, what answer do you hope to get from me?"
Cersei's rhetorical question made Varys pause for a moment.
Glancing at Jon Arryn, Varys said no more.
Queen Cersei let out a soft snort, lifting her smooth chin.
Renly Baratheon, smiling, looked at the rebuffed Varys and spoke. "Your Grace, it seems you have a better idea? We would humbly ask for your counsel."
Cersei glanced at Renly, subtly rolling her eyes, and said coldly, "Let Lord Mace serve as an advisor to the Hand for the time being. He can take on some of the Hand's duties in advance. As for the rest, you can discuss and decide among yourselves."
By now, Renly also sensed that something was amiss. The Cersei he saw today was vastly different from the one he remembered.
Renly's gaze shifted toward Lord Jon Arryn.
Seeing that Renly had finally noticed the problem, Lord Jon felt inwardly relieved and gave a subtle nod.
The Lannisters have allied with the Tyrells. Are they planning to seize power?
Renly's smile faded somewhat as he addressed Cersei, "Queen Cersei, this is hardly a good idea. Lord Arryn is still the Hand of the King."
Cersei looked at Renly with a hint of disdain. "Lord Renly, if the Hand could perform his duties, would your queen need to appear before the Small Council?"
Renly opened his mouth, paused, then replied, "Lord Arryn's health is gradually improving."
Cersei retorted coldly, "Even you admit that Lord Arryn's health is a concern!"
Renly threw his hands up, forcing a smile.
No wonder my brother Robert dislikes Cersei, Renly thought. With such a domineering attitude, I can't bring myself to like her either.
Today's Cersei was not only stirring up trouble but was also logical and well-reasoned, leaving them with little room to argue.
Like Lord Jon, Renly felt that Tywin Lannister was behind today's events. This was all the Old Lion's scheming in the shadows.
The moment Lord Jon's health wavered, the lion was ready to pounce.
Renly secretly told himself that House Lannister had never abandoned its ambition to control the Red Keep, and he could not afford to let his guard down.
…
Seeing Renly's silence, Petyr Baelish's lips curled into a smirk. His voice was hoarse. "Your Grace, the Queen…"
"Enough!" Cersei cut Petyr off before he could continue. "One after another, you all speak. Are you planning to unite against your queen?"
Why did Cersei have no patience for Petyr?
It was not because of his low birth. In Cersei's eyes, the Petyr Baelish of today was nothing more than Lord Jon's lapdog, and she couldn't be bothered to listen to his nonsense.
Petyr's mouth twitched. He shrugged helplessly and closed his mouth with a bitter expression.
The others were about to reluctantly rise to offer their apologies, but Lord Jon raised a hand to stop them.
Lord Jon stared at Queen Cersei, whose anger had not yet subsided. "Queen Cersei, the Small Council is a place for open discussion and the airing of different views. The lords of the council would never intentionally offend the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."
Cersei's expression softened slightly. "Hmph, they'd better not!"
As Cersei's words fell, a muscle in Lord Jon's eye twitched.
Pycelle looked at Lord Jon's darkened face and said, "Your Grace, please rest assured. Lord Arryn will certainly give your suggestion serious consideration."
Seeing Queen Cersei staring at him, Lord Jon gave a stiff nod.
"My lords, that will be all for today. I hope you will act with more haste. We wouldn't want to spoil the king's pleasures."
With that, Cersei rose from her seat. The others also stood, bowing their heads to the queen.
Queen Cersei raised her chin slightly, her beautiful eyes scanning the lords. She nodded once, then turned and left the Throne Room.
After Cersei had gone, they all sat back down.
Petyr spread his hands, a smirk on his lips. "My lords, I dare not face the mother lion's roar again!"
The lords chuckled softly. The tense atmosphere in the Throne Room was instantly eased by Petyr's half-joking remark.
Petyr was subtly sending a signal on Lord Jon's behalf.
Even without Petyr's hint, everyone understood the unspoken political agreement: future Small Council meetings would refuse Lannister interference.
Cersei's sudden appearance had merely caught them off guard, putting Lord Jon's faction at a temporary disadvantage. But in the game of thrones, the key was not a momentary victory or defeat.
The game of thrones required immense patience, and the lords of the council did not lack it.
The game had only just begun.
…
The Red Keep, Maegor's Holdfast.
Having changed into a gown of thin silk, Cersei happily sipped a glass of summerwine.
The overwhelming victory in the Small Council meeting made her heart soar. She loved this feeling, a sensation that had already surpassed the pleasures of the bedchamber.
In the days before Glyn left King's Landing, he had spoken to her as if telling a story, describing the various scenarios she might encounter at a Small Council meeting.
Glyn's tongue was still sweet, and Cersei had listened with great enthusiasm.
Glyn's brilliance lay in his verbal skill; he made Cersei feel as if she were coming to these realizations herself, rather than being taught by him.
I am Cersei Lannister, the great lioness of my House. I have never needed anyone to teach me what to do.
Judging by today's outcome, she had already won a victory in the Small Council.
According to the rules of the game, today was not the end; Cersei had only achieved a temporary victory.
But would Cersei worry about what came next? The answer was no.
From Cersei's perspective, there were only winners and losers in a power struggle. Since she had already won, the lords of the council had to fall in line.
If the losers dared to play tricks, that would be a declaration of war.
The roar of the mother lion would make them understand the severe price for daring to offend her.
Cersei's beautiful eyes gazed out the window as she took another sip of summerwine, a smirk playing on her lips.
That time had been just a whim, but she never expected to gain such a useful functionary.
Cersei raised her glass, swirling it gently. Could Glyn's loyalty be trusted?
The more valuable Glyn proved himself, the more Cersei would doubt his loyalty to her.
Cersei's desire for control was incredibly strong. Although Glyn's performance had always satisfied her, she felt something was missing—just a tiny bit.
And it was this tiny bit that only Cersei herself could confirm… and complete.
Draining the rest of the wine in one gulp, Cersei's face was filled with unconcealed triumph. She sighed inwardly. The Old Lion's greatest regret was not having a true heir. I could have been the most ideal successor, but alas, I was born without the means to rule as a man.
After a moment of melancholy, Cersei's eyes flashed.
She had played the part of the dutiful daughter, the blushing bride, and the obedient wife.
She had endured Robert's drunken fumbling and Jaime's volcanic jealousy.
Cersei believed that he who laughs last, laughs best. She had always promised herself that she would take the entire Seven Kingdoms as her compensation.
Now, the day she had longed for was near, and the person she hated most would soon be turned to ash.
…
…
The Narrow Sea raged with turbulent waves.
Two pirate ships closed in on Glyn's vessel from port and starboard.
The sailors on all sides had received the same order: prepare to board. As they drew near, they frantically threw thick ropes with grappling hooks at the opposing ship, filling the air with a web of lines.
Glyn stood steadily on a high perch, awaiting the start of the battle.
Reik Snow roared, "Prepare for battle!"