It was hell for Cersei. The Red Keep had never felt so suffocating. Not only was Jaime suffering from the Seven's curse, but she was also supposed to stay away from men. Even her own husband.
Thankfully, she was already pregnant with the gift of a beautiful daughter that the Lord Septon left in her womb. She used that as an excuse to keep Robert away. But that didn't mean her own desire was under control.
More often than she liked to believe, she found her hands between her thighs. She slept each night moaning, touching herself.
But she stayed true to the promise she had made to Lord Septon. She had no desire to anger the Seven's Angel anymore. Nor receive any more curses from the Seven.
"Mmmm~"
#####
King Robert Baratheon was a happy man. He had a son, strong and growing well. His woman was already with another babe. Yet he failed to realize his own regression to his old self. With the reassurance of Cersei giving him another babe, he automatically assumed it would be a boy, securing his line even in the worst-case scenario.
He never realized when those single goblets of wine became two, and then a dozen. He never realized when groping the maids turned into shoving his cock in their cunts. He had promised himself to leave his son a healthy, strong realm behind.
Yet there he was, in his large private chamber, drinking, two mouths latched on his cock. He was addicted to this feeling. He hated working. He was ready to raise his hammer again, but the realm wanted an envoy, which he wasn't.
"Seven Hells! Stop using them teeth!"
In fact, it had gotten worse than before. He no longer attended the Small Council and left the entire matter of Elia and her son to Jon. He had tried to be the planner, wise King, and he hated it.
"Aaaah… That's it! Take it deeper! Suck on your King's cock!"
To anyone watching, the sight was sad and disappointing. All the victory speeches, all the loud proclamations during the rebellion.
They all meant nothing. Just another King, just another era of the realm rotting.
####
It was Bronn's second time approaching the magnificent castle of Highgarden. Three rings of white stone walls, each increasing in height as the castle sat atop a hill, were as imposing as they were beautiful. The castle itself was absolutely massive in size.
And more than that, the absolute greenery around it, the river Mander, and the sunny weather made it all even better.
Now this is a castle, by the Seven.
Heck, the castle looked more like a fortress city, but Bronn knew that it was still a castle. It was the residence of House Tyrell, and anyone not without Tyrell in name inside was a servant. The castle alone had its own economy based on various fruits and flowers that grew inside.
Maybe I should raise me a castle. Seven knows, foolish Lords will pay for it, and my faithful can stack the stones. Bronn pondered. Of course, it would be called Sept of the Seven's Angel, not a castle.
Thankfully, this time there were no sudden stoppages. With six Angelic Knights guarding his wheelhouse, the journey was smooth for the most part. And before long, the knights of House Tyrell came out to greet him and escort him.
Surprisingly, there was no Mace Tyrell this time. But there were a few men with Tyrell in their names.
"May the Seven's light guide us!" Bronn stepped out of the wheelhouse to greet his escort.
Instantly, the escort of ten knights knelt to him and repeated Bronn's greeting. They were clearly told to do this to stroke his ego. Not that he minded it.
"Lord Septon, I'm Ser Leo Tyrell, son of Ser Victor Tyrell, a distant cousin to Lord Mace."
"I'm Ser Olymer Tyrell, Lord Septon, son of Ser Quentin Tyrell, cousin of Lord Mace. My father perished during the Battle of Ashford."
Then a third man voiced. "I'm Ser Theodore Tyrell, son of Ser Luthor Tyrell, first cousin of Lord Mace."
Bronn already expected that. House Tyrell was big and quite spread out. It had a lot of knights in the main and junior branches. House Tyrell also regularly sent their boys to become maesters at the Citadel.
All that made them a prime target for Bronn. They were religious, and more than that, they wanted to appear zealously holy and pious. Heck, the entire Reach was prime lands for him to recruit knights and septas, as Reach Houses were the ones most involved and supportive of the Faith Militant during its height. Heck, the head of his current, small Angelic Knights was Erren Florent, a Reach House, one of the main houses sworn to the Tyrells. The man joined his services because he healed his father after the fool lethally fell from a horse.
"War…" Bronn sighed, entering his wise, holy persona with ease. He walked closer to the three kneeling knights of House Tyrell and showed his flat hand to their heads. Next instant, light flashed from his palm. Warm, bright, and undoubtedly holy to them.
"The Seven take husbands from wives, fathers from children, sons from mothers. A costly trade, war. Rise, good knights."
As expected, the three Tyrell knights and the seven others they had brought were frozen on the ground, gawking at the bright light on Bronn's palm. Their eyes were wide, some were on the verge of crying like they had just been kissed by the Mother herself.
The Angelic Knights weren't moved; however, used to Bronn's miracles. But they still hummed prayers under their helmets while on horseback, one hand on their chest and the other on the hilt of their swords.
Finally, when Bronn stopped the light show, the Tyrell knights woke up from their stupor and stood up.
"We'll lead you into the castle, Lord Septon."
And they did just that. Forming two columns of five each, they rode in front of his wheelhouse. The Angelic Knights stayed behind and on the sides.
Inside the wheelhouse, Bronn ceased all the unholy activities, had Malora and Unella make each other proper, their attire and hair as well. Then they used some perfume to remove that strong scent of sex.
By the time their carriage moved through the first wall, they were ready to meet the members of House Tyrell. Between the outer wall and the middle wall was an enormous labyrinth, but he was guided through a planned pathway.
Seven cunts! They went all out welcoming me!
As soon as his wheelhouse rolled through the final wall of the castle, he was greeted by the scent of flowers. The wide road was stunning, with beds of flowers on each side. The buildings, however, were manned by women, children, and men, all throwing flower petals to welcome him.
There were flags all across the street, alternating between Tyrell flags and the flag of his cult, all fluttering in the wind. Knights stood on the sides of the roads in salute, fully armored with ceremonial lances.
Slowly, a few more gates were crossed, and finally, his wheelhouse stopped at the main keep of House Tyrell within the massive castle complex. From the window of his carriage, he could already see the lineup, Mace Tyrell standing giddily in expensive robes.
Hmm… As beautiful as the rumors said.
Bronn's eyes fell on the woman standing beside Mace, however. Alerie Tyrell, once a Hightower. She looked like an older, refined, mature version of Lynesse, but with silver hair instead of blonde. She was tall and looked rather dignified with her stoic expressions; her high cheekbones, sharp lashes, and intelligent eyes told him she was no fool.
However, there stood another creature even before Mace Tyrell. She was older than all of them; her hair was greying, but still held onto her youth as plenty of strands were light brown. She was a small woman; at best, she would reach his chest. He had to agree, she was still a beauty, if not in the last years of that said beauty. In her late fifties, wrinkles had started to appear on her forehead, around the corners of her eyes, which revealed how much she probably smiled. Same for some wrinkles at the corners of her lips.
Still fuckable… for a year or two, at least.
Yes, Bronn the Blessed just thought of fucking Olenna Tyrell. But he was careful about it. He was wary of this woman. She stood out despite her tiny physical stature. There was a wise glint in her gaze, like she saw through him. She clearly didn't believe in him or in his abilities currently. And she was already known in the realm for being cunning, outspoken about her opinions, and for having a rather sharp tongue.
Once he stepped out of the wheelhouse, he gave a hand to his stunning septas, Unella and Malora, helping them out.
Finally, he turned back towards the Tyrell family and solemnly strolled to greet Olenna Tyrell. The woman was eying him the entire time, keeping a fake smile. When he reached her, she just raised a hand.
Bronn smiled, bowed, and kissed the back of her hand, his lips brushing it longer than a holy man should. "By the Seven, the older the wine, the sweeter the grace. An honor to meet you, Lady Olenna Tyrell."
"Hah!" Olenna gave a dry chuckle. "So your tongue's as clever with flattery as it is with your holy sermons, is it?"
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