The Brightest Sun

Chapter 64

Harry was mentally reminding himself to keep his magic reined in, resisting the urge to cast any spells. He had expected a more vicious reaction to his presence from the woman, something more akin to her screaming fit when they had broken into the throne room, but she seemed content to stay silent. Had it not been for the hint of anger in her eyes, Harry would have been worried she had done something to harm herself.

"I want to see my children," she pressed.

He scoffed, glancing at her with dark eyes. "You're off your rocker if you think I'll let you near those kids."

"They are my children."

"In case you've forgotten, Lady Cersei," he said, irritation colouring his tone, "you had a headsman prepared to take your lives." His heart had nearly stopped at the sight of a man with his blade drawn, eyes dead and unfeeling as he prepared to carry out his task. He'd wasted no time, likely killing the man as he blasted him into the far walls of the throne room.

"It's Queen," she snapped, lips twisting in a sneer.

"For that you'd need your husband alive," Harry said dryly.

"There is a—"

"What?" he interrupted. "Gone and crowned your son, have you?"

She remained quiet, watching Harry with blazing green eyes. Not quite willing to sentence her eldest to his fate, he thought.

They had taken her to a room in the Maidenvault, large and comfortable with bedding done in pale colours with slashes of deep reds and gold. The rising sun filtered in through the window, shafts of light illuminating her golden hair.

"I've heard quite the tales about you," she finally said.

"Have you?"

Harry smiled humourlessly, leaning against the lone pillar in the room as he watched her recline in her seat. Every new tale he heard about himself had been more outlandish than the rest, and he settled comfortably against the stone, interested in what tale the former queen had heard.

"They call you a witch. A shadowbinder from Asshai," she said. Harry nearly rolled his eyes at the rather predictable accusation. "I can't help but wonder what nonsense these Targaryens are bringing to the Seven Kingdoms."

"A wizard, actually. As to what they are bringing…" Harry shrugged. "Family."

She blinked, shifting in her seat before she suddenly laughed. "Family? So those dreadful rumours are true? Elia Martell has invited a commoner into her bed so long as he helps her take the throne."

Harry laughed darkly, pushing off the pillar to move closer. "Is that all it is for you? Always about the throne?"

"Does that surprise you?" Cersei tilted her head, hair tumbling over her shoulder. "It's all anyone in this gods forsaken city cares for. That throne, the king that sits it; all they want is a piece of it, and if you think your precious Dornish princess wants anything else – even you– then you've deluded yourself."

"And I'm to take your word for it?" he drawled.

She stood then, eyes calculating as she smiled. "Whom else should you turn to? Varys? The Spider has been spinning his own webs long before you, telling his tales to Robert while you planned your rebellion. Littlefinger?" she laughed, amusement clear in her tone. "He's a rather clever little man, I'll grant him that; a touch more helpful than most. Why would Littlefinger ever help you?"

She moved closer as she spoke, an inviting smile on her face. She was every bit as beautiful as they had said, though Harry felt nothing more than amusement at the attempt to seduce him.