Cersei's Calculus

Cersei was truly angry this time. She had known Joffrey was foolish. She had not known he was so foolish he might be beyond saving.

Eddard Stark's death did not grieve her. In some ways, it pleased her. But Joffrey had openly admitted the deed, and even Cersei understood the price of that.

All she could do was write to her father quickly and let Tywin repair what could be repaired.

Far away in the west, Lord Tywin could not have expected that a favorable position would be ruined by his own grandson's stupidity. Ronan went straight to the Hand's Tower.

He knew Cersei would be there. Lancel was gone from the door. A young maid stood in his place, another lesser Lannister from Cersei's own branch of the family. Loyalty, at least, could be trusted.

Inside, he found the queen mother exactly where he expected her.

Men were not the only ones made more attractive by seriousness. Cersei with a quill in hand and a realm's problem before her looked dangerous in a way a court gown could never quite capture.

Her breathing shifted the moment she saw him. She mastered it quickly.

"Have you come for the Starks?"

"No. I came for the Lannisters."

She set down the quill and studied him, a man she wanted and could not possess.

No matter how close they came, a distance remained between them. That distance infuriated her almost as much as it drew her.

"Did you? Then tell me what concern you have for House Lannister."

Ronan did not answer at once. He walked around the desk until he stood beside her chair. Her breath deepened.

He did not ruin the moment with words. Silence served better. Cersei was sensitive in ways she did not like to admit, especially near the ear.

"If I said I came for you," Ronan murmured, "would you believe me?"

"Commander Ronan, mind your words."

That proper tone was rare from her. In Ronan's eyes, it only made the flush in her cheeks more interesting. He reached for her.

This time Cersei did not call for guards or pull away. She could have made a scene and chose not to.

Worse, some part of her had grown used to him, as if her own body had learned his presence before her pride accepted it.

Yet he did not do what she expected. Ronan lifted her from the chair, sat down himself, and settled her against him instead.

His hand moved with enough precision to make thought difficult, then stopped when she reached for more.

"No."

He obeyed the word. That made her angrier than if he had ignored it.

"Do you understand how much trouble Eddard's death creates?" he asked.

Cersei was still irritated. "How much trouble can it create? The northmen already hated us."

"Stannis and Renly oppose Joffrey. Eddard's death gives the North vengeance as well as politics. Do you think they will stay quiet?"

Her expression cooled.

"Your father may soon face more than one army. The North has marriage ties to the Riverlands. The houses attached to Stannis and Renly will smell weakness. Does Eddard's death still seem harmless to King's Landing? To you? To the Lannisters?"

For once, Cersei had no answer. She was dangerous without a crown and clumsy beneath one. As a ruler, she was a novice who mistook sharpness for strategy.

"Ronan," she said quietly, "you will help me, won't you?"

Pressure made her almost honest. She saw reachable power clearly, but real politics stood beyond the games women played in corridors and beds.

Joffrey was worse. He had not even found the door to that world.

"We prepare," Ronan said.

"Prepare what?"

"Men. Equipment. Fortifications. Food."

"I will give you whatever you need. Men, gold, authority. Myself, if that pleases you."

For a moment, Cersei was almost adorable.

"Then before I work so hard, may I have some encouragement for the battle ahead?"

Her smile turned wicked. "Of course, my man."

...

Alyne Lannister's mother had served Lady Cersei from girlhood. Now that duty had fallen to Alyne.

At first, she thought the work would be simple. Then Lord Ronan began appearing, and she learned that serving Cersei meant understanding what not to see.

No wonder Lady Cersei had replaced timid Lancel with her.

Alyne had never seen her lady so overcome. Cersei was proud, fierce, and hard to bend. Yet with Ronan she became something more dangerous than submissive and less safe than commanding.

Alyne was not an innocent child. Her mother had told her enough about shameful things, and married friends had told her more in whispers. From what they described, she thought many of them unhappy.

Now she understood why. When she saw Lord Ronan again, she did not dare look at him for long. He seemed too large for the room.

"Alyne," Cersei called. "Come in."

Alyne stepped carefully inside and locked the door with practiced hands. The room was neat again, though certain traces drew the eye whether she wished it or not.

Cersei was in a rare good mood. She watched Alyne's reaction and asked, "Have you lain with a man?" Alyne froze.

The question was too intimate to answer, but her mother had warned her never to make Lady Cersei wait. She nodded, face burning. Cersei's smile sharpened. "Come here."

Alyne went to her side. She had not expected her lady's touch to be so direct.

"Do you want him?"

The question was sudden. It was also completely clear. Alyne denied it at once.

Her mother had also warned her that Lady Cersei guarded what belonged to her. A servant did not reach for her mistress's possessions. She did not even let longing show.

Even if the man was impossible not to want. Cersei looked pleased by the answer. Alyne lowered her head in relief. Her mother's caution had saved her from danger she had not known how to name.

Later, as she cleaned her lady with careful hands, Alyne saw the bruises on that beautiful skin. She felt pity. And envy.

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