[Note: Reader discretion advised—intended for mature audiences only.]
Chapter 91: Extra Charge Required!
[You savor the taste... ]
[You've gained a slight insight into life. Experience +500]
[Talent "Gifted Anomaly" activates]
[Nobles submit beneath your pants. With newfound understanding, Charm +1]
[Note: If you crave more, why not try again? Until you've utterly conquered nobility.]
[??? : (2/100)]
Wild ducks float in pairs amid the waves, golden threads gleaming under the silver moonlight.
Precious moments always linger in the heart, yet slip away like sand through fingertips, vanishing unnoticed between the cracks.
For that fleeting time, Podrick reached out with his right hand once more, grasping anew.
"You... did well, Podrick... Payne. Mmm~, better than all those cowards hiding in the city..."
Perhaps unable to withstand another wave, the Queen Regent tried to shift the topic as she sensed her own release approaching.
The moon-pale beauty writhed in a tangle, melting into water, pooling in Podrick's embrace.
The round window, once brightly lit, now framed the silver moon spilling light into the Queen's bedchamber.
In that position, Podrick had to halt his audacity, withdrawing his wicked hand and shifting to a new one.
"You and King Joffrey are both heroes, Your Grace."
His fingertips idly stroked the tooth-white silk beneath them as Podrick gazed at the silver mist rising from the Blackwater's waves, replying absentmindedly.
It truly was a rare fine night—clear skies, not a cloud in sight.
A silver moon hung high, casting radiant glow.
Bright stars swirled into the Milky Way, drifting ethereally to unknown realms.
Under the moonlight, Blackwater Bay lay silent, its waves still and serene.
Hearing Podrick's praise, Queen Cersei lifted her head—cheeks still flushed with rosy afterglow—her eyes shimmering as she gazed at the young man in her arms.
"But they see me only as a woman, and mock little Joff as a child. They humiliate us mother and son—even my own father thinks so!"
"And they sent that dwarf, that vile, useless dwarf."
"What has that dwarf done? Nothing but spew lies!"
Recalling some infuriating memory, Cersei raged, though her lingering weakness made it sound like petulant coquetry.
Podrick responded by raising his palm, delivering a light but firm smack that rang out crisply.
"Haven't I done plenty?"
"Whoever dares bully you, just tell me—I'll kill them for you!"
Turning from the window, Podrick met the eyes of the flushed Queen in his arms. He promised boldly, without a hint of hesitation.
Cersei loved hearing such words; it meant she'd achieved her goal.
After all, she'd summoned Podrick here and allowed his brazen liberties precisely for this.
Other reasons? Few indeed.
Delighted, she nestled closer to that warm haven, her slender jade fingers tracing circles on his chest.
Like a lost wanderer—or an artist sketching—she outlined a river through the rugged peaks and valleys, flowing ever downward.
Her meticulously pampered fingers moved like a jade brush, truly conjuring a surging stream that poured into a fresh, newborn forest.
Podrick suddenly gasped, his hazy mind snapping alert.
The next instant, Cersei's sly voice purred—laced with thrill and icy edge.
"Would you really kill whoever I asked?"
Podrick could only sigh deeply. "Oh... yes, yes."
"Yes, Your Grace, just like... that!"
He nodded emphatically, though his ten fingers clenched instinctively, gripping whatever he could.
Satisfied, Cersei pressed her advantage, eyes narrowing, her tone cooling further.
"What if the one I want dead is my brother?"
Her hand paused mid-motion.
"Which brother, Your Grace?"
Podrick released his reflexive grip, his stiff muscles easing as he reclined on the bed, eyes glazing over again as if he hadn't heard.
"Which brother do you think?!"
The Queen's ire flared at his distraction. She seized him outright, threatening... unyielding, unrefined.
But she wielded it as leverage, brows arched high.
"Oh, oh... hiss~, yes, yes!" Podrick snapped back, eyes clearing. "Your brother—er, you mean Jaime?"
He scratched his scalp, clarity fading back to confusion.
"Your Grace, I can't kill him—he's still with that little wolf lord. And aren't we supposed to rescue him?"
"Damn you, stop playing dumb!"
Now truly angry, Cersei gripped her "handle" tighter, aiming to subdue it—but found herself powerless.
Damn, how is it so hard?
Shock rippled through her, but she clenched anyway, using it as her threat, undeterred in her intent.
Podrick dropped the pretense, propping himself up and ignoring her grasp, meeting her gaze squarely.
"So you mean your dwarf brother, Tyrion Lannister?"
"Of course—who else but that repulsive little imp?"
Cersei held firm as their negotiation continued.
Podrick shifted slightly, rubbing his chin in thought, eyes locked on her.
"But Your Grace, he's your own blood, your sibling. You shouldn't want him dead."
"Didn't you say you'd kill whoever I asked?"
Her voice turned to ice.
"Yes, Your Grace, I did. Tell me who, and they're gone." Podrick's gaze was steady as he nodded.
Seeing his resolve, Cersei's expression softened, her touch gentling into soothing strokes.
She melted back into honeyed warmth, voice and smile sweet as nectar.
"Then when the time comes, eliminate Tyrion. Do it, and you can have anything you want!"
"But he's my dear kin, my brother!"
Podrick hesitated once more, face etched with reluctance.
"So what you're saying is..." Cersei's face darkened for real.
"No—my meaning is, it'll cost extra!"