New students start from 'Game of Thrones'

Chapter 35 The King's Death

Soon, Lancel Lannister was brought to Cersei's chambers by her handmaid. Dressed in his squire's uniform, he stood nervously before the queen.

"Your Grace," Lancel said, bowing.

"How do you like serving the king, Lancel?" Cersei purred, reclining lazily in her chair with a wine cup in hand. She smiled at her young cousin, her eyes smoldering.

"It is an honor, Your Grace," Lancel stammered, his face flushing as he met her gaze. He quickly looked away.

"Don't be so stiff. Come, sit," Cersei said, patting the spot beside her—so close that if he sat, their shoulders would touch, as if she were nestling in his arms.

"No, Your Grace. I dare not. It would be an insult," Lancel said, staring at the seat in horror.

"What are you afraid of? You're my cousin. A little closeness is harmless," Cersei laughed, enjoying his embarrassment.

"You are the queen. I must show you respect—fear," Lancel said, trembling like a lamb caught in a wolf's gaze.

Cersei's interest was piqued. She stood slowly, stretching lazily, and glided toward him. She reached out, her fingers brushing his cheek softly.

"Lancel," she whispered, "tell me—are you loyal to your queen?"

"I have always been loyal, Your Grace," Lancel said, his voice shaking as he avoided her eyes.

"Would you obey my every command?" Her hand slid down his chest, slipping under his tunic.

"Y-yes, Your Grace," Lancel gasped, frozen—afraid to resist, afraid to yield. His body tensed, his breath quickening.

"Good, Lancel," Cersei murmured, pressing her body against his. She leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. "I have a task for you. Can you do it?"

"I'll do anything you ask," Lancel breathed, his body trembling with a mix of fear and excitement.

"Don't worry—it's simple. When Robert goes hunting, give him this wine. Let him drink as much as he wants," Cersei said, her hand still wandering.

"Y-your Grace... are you...?" Lancel's eyes widened. He tried to step back, but Cersei held him fast.

"Just stronger than his usual wine," she cooed, pressing closer.

"I... I obey," Lancel whispered, his voice breaking.

"Good. Now, a reward for your loyalty," Cersei said, her eyes darkening with desire. She pulled the teenage boy toward the bed and pushed him down.

Soon, the chambers filled with breathless moans. Later, the door opened, and Lancel stumbled out, hastily straightening his clothes, a bottle of strong wine clutched to his chest. He fled down the hall.

Inside, Cersei lay on the bed, her cheeks flushed. She watched Lancel's retreating figure, a cold smile spreading across her face.

Eddard Stark returned to the Hand's Tower, exhausted. He sat in his chambers, torn: should he leave King's Landing with his daughters and return to the North? But the thought of abandoning Robert—his brother in all but blood—when the king needed him most made his decision impossible.

"My lord?" Owen called, knocking on the door.

"Come in," Eddard said.

Owen entered and closed the door behind him.

"The men from Dragonstone are here—at the River Gate, ready to support us," he said.

"Excellent. Now we're not outmatched in numbers," Eddard said, relieved.