Chapter 164

Silence.

Robert sat at one end of the room in a high-backed chair, while the queen sat across from him on a low bed with the three royal children. Cersei held Myrcella and Tommen close to her on either side, while Joffrey, nearly grown and too old to cling to his mother, sat stiffly beside his sister.

The room was oppressively still, the atmosphere heavy and stifling, like the looming shadow of a mountain. Robert’s gaze bore into his estranged wife, while Cersei glared back with unyielding defiance. Even Tommen and Myrcella, too young to understand what was happening, sensed the tension and were too frightened to ask questions.

“What are you doing here?” Cersei’s voice was cold, her eyes flicking to the warhammer resting on the small table beside Robert. She recognized it instantly—the same weapon Robert had used to kill Rhaegar Targaryen on the Trident. A weapon that shouldn’t have won him the day.

“And bringing a weapon?” she added.

Robert chuckled dryly, though there was no mirth in his voice. “I was on my way to the training yard for some exercise and decided to stop by to see my children. Am I not allowed to do that?”

This was the royal children’s residence, where Cersei had stayed since Robert returned from the Vale. She had refused his summons, claiming illness and other excuses, but today, Robert had come to her directly. There was no avoiding him now.

Outside the chamber, the hallway teemed with tension. Five Kingsguard—excluding Jaime and Barristan—stood fully armed alongside dozens of Red Keep guards loyal to the king, all eyeing over a hundred Lannister guards clad in crimson cloaks. The Lannisters’ guards were fiercely loyal, with their families living under Tywin Lannister’s authority in the Westerlands. If anyone threatened their lady or her children, they would fight to the death.

But this was different. Robert Baratheon was king, the lord of the Red Keep and head of the royal family. Visiting his wife and children in their residence was his right. No one had the authority to bar him, nor did anyone dare.

Even if Cersei had given an order to attack, they would struggle to overpower Robert, who had brought nearly all of the Kingsguard with him. And this wasn’t even taking into account the man’s legendary strength.

Cersei frowned. “Spare me the sarcasm, Robert. If you have something to say, then say it.”

“Sarcasm?” Robert’s expression darkened, and his tone turned sharp. “Shouldn’t you be the one explaining something to me? I’ve been back for days, and the city’s been alive with rumors about you and Jaime. Yet you’ve been hiding here with the children, hoping I’d drink myself stupid and forget about it?”

“Explain?” Cersei snapped, her voice rising. “Explain what? Some ridiculous lies cooked up by that treacherous, murderous Master of Coin to slander me? Lies spread by idle peasants with nothing better to do? What should I explain? Why don’t you explain all the bastards you’ve fathered outside the Red Keep?”

“I don’t have that many!” Robert’s face flushed with anger before realizing his slip. “Yes, I’ve sired a few, but at least I didn’t bring them into the Red Keep!”

“What do you mean by that? If your Hand of the King was doing his job, he’d have already rounded up the liars spreading these rumors! You have no evidence, no proof, and yet you storm in here demanding explanations? How am I supposed to prove something I didn’t do?”

Robert stared at her, his anger simmering but his voice falling silent. He had come here to confront her, acting outside the plan he and Ned had devised, hoping to bait her into a confession. But she hadn’t cracked. It didn’t matter—he would follow the Hand’s plan from here.

After all, he had no proof.

“What’s the matter?” Cersei sneered. “Run out of things to say? Why are you still here? Should I tell you to leave?”

“This is my house. You don’t get to tell me to leave.”

Cersei’s unease grew. This calm, calculating version of Robert wasn’t like him at all. She clutched Myrcella and Tommen tighter, her voice wary. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing much,” Robert replied coldly. “Just realizing there are far too many Lannisters in the Red Keep. It’s time to trim the fat.”

“Trim the fat?” Cersei’s heart raced, though she forced a mocking laugh. “Dream on. Not without my consent.”

“And what law says the king needs his wife’s permission to replace a few servants and guards in his own castle?” Robert retorted sharply, his voice dripping with derision.

Cersei faltered, realizing he was right. Just as she could deny the rumors without consequence, she had no real power to prevent Robert from reorganizing the castle staff. Even though he owed Tywin Lannister a fortune and relied on the Lannisters to stabilize his rule, Robert remained the King of Westeros. He was the master of the Red Keep and the head of their household.

Clenching her fists, she attempted a weak counter. “When I complained I didn’t have enough servants, you told me to handle it myself.”

“And you did. But I’ll make you a deal—I’ll let you fill this room with as many servants as you want. If it makes you happy, I’ll allow them to line every wall.”

This calm, rational Robert terrified her. This wasn’t the drunken fool she knew—it had to be Ned Stark’s influence. She understood immediately: she had few options left. If she caved now, she would lose everything. She steeled herself. “Not a single one of my people will leave without my say.”

“Really?” Robert chuckled grimly. “Soon, twice as many guards loyal to the king will come to escort them out. They can leave the Red Keep on foot or be carried out—it’s their choice.”

Guards? Cersei narrowed her eyes. Robert still believed the City Watch was his to command?

“You think this will end well for you?” she spat. “You think the goldcloaks will just follow your orders? Do you even know whose pockets they’re in?”

Robert laughed bitterly, shattering her confidence. “Don’t overthink it, woman. As of this morning, the new Commander of the City Watch is Jory Cassel—Ned’s man. Oh, and even if I hadn’t replaced him, Janos Slynt wouldn’t have helped you. Yesterday, he personally ratted you out, exposing your entire plan.”

Janos Slynt. That treacherous rat. Cold sweat soaked through Cersei’s clothes. She forced herself to appear calm, even as her heart raced. “What plan? I have no idea what you’re talking about. Slynt is a desperate fool grasping at straws. You’re drunk, Robert, believing any nonsense thrown your way.”

“Maybe. But we’ll see soon enough,” Robert said, leaning back in his chair. “Let’s stop this pointless squabbling and wait for the guards.”

The room fell silent once more, but the unease in Cersei’s chest swelled. She had lost. She realized that when Robert had entered with his warhammer, she should have given the order to strike first. Her only chance had been to kill him before reinforcements arrived, seizing control of the Red Keep and placing Joffrey on the throne.

Now, with Robert still alive and in control, she had no moves left.

“What do you want?” she demanded, trembling. “Do you want to kill me? Go ahead.”

“No,” Robert replied coldly. “I want to prove your innocence. We’ll put only my men around you. No other men—especially not your brother. Then we’ll have another child. If it has golden hair, I’ll apologize for the misunderstanding. If it’s black-haired…”

“You’ll imprison me and force me to breed like a sow?” Cersei shouted, standing abruptly. “I’d rather die!”

“I’m your husband. If I demand a child from my lawful wife, what grounds do you have to refuse?” Robert growled, his voice turning dangerous. “But if you refuse, confess your affair with Jaime before the court. Have your father forgive the crown’s debts and pay a ransom—four or five million gold dragons should suffice. Pay up, and you and your brother can return to Casterly Rock.”

This was Ned’s plan. Cersei realized it in an instant. It was brilliant and merciless. She had gambled on Robert’s drunken stupidity, but she had lost. Now, facing a sober king recognized by all Seven Kingdoms, even Tywin couldn’t openly defy him.

Clutching Tommen and Myrcella, she forced herself to ask, “Where’s Jaime? What have you done to him?”

Robert smirked. “Take a guess.”

“You’ve arrested him!” Cersei’s composure broke. Letting go of the children, she lunged at Robert, her hands aiming for his throat. “If you harm my brother, I’ll never forgive you! I’ll hide a knife in our bed and stab you the moment you touch me!”

“Then I’ll tie you up while I do it!” Robert roared, finally losing his temper. He grabbed her by the hair and struck her, sending her sprawling to the ground. “Don’t think I care about what’s between your legs! Even if every man in the Seven Kingdoms wants you, I don’t! If it weren’t for Ned Stark, your head would already be on a spike outside the Red Keep!”

The force of the king’s rage terrified everyone in the room. Joffrey cowered in silence, while Tommen was too stunned to react. Only Myrcella, crying, ran forward to cling to her father.

“Father, please stop! Mother didn’t mean it! She always says things she doesn’t mean. You know that!”

Robert’s fury softened as he looked down at his daughter. Of all his children, he loved Myrcella the most. She was kind and brave, with all of her mother’s beauty but none of her faults. If only she weren’t a girl—or if only her hair weren’t golden.

“I know,” Robert muttered, his voice trembling with pain. Gently pushing Myrcella aside, he said, “Sit down. The guards will be here soon, and this will all be over.”

Suddenly, shouts and the sound of steel echoed from outside the door. Moments later, the door was kicked open, and Jaime Lannister stormed in, his eyes red with fury. He froze as he took in the scene: Cersei on the ground, clutching her face; Myrcella crying; and Robert standing over them, warhammer in hand.