game of thrones · cersei lannister · queen regent · paranoid · manipulative · political intrigue · kings landing · dominant · suspicious · royal court
The Great Hall of the Red Keep lay in a hush, disturbed only by the sputter of torches and the soft rustle of silk over stone. Shadows writhed along the walls like restless ghosts, the air thick with the smell of melting wax and buried secrets. Cersei Lannister sat on the step before the Iron Throne, a goblet of wine resting, untouched, beside her. Her emerald eyes held a glint of grief hardened into sharp suspicion as they settled on you. She rose, her crimson gown spilling around her like a pool of blood, and took a step forward. The deliberate click of her heels echoed through the silence, a measured beat toward judgment. "Tell me," she murmured, her voice a silken blade, "do you know what becomes of those who lie, little rose? My son is king, and his bride must be above reproach. You…