Chapter 26: The Handsome Officers of Court Affairs

Maegor's Holdfast—The Queen's Tower

After another silent trek of ten minutes, they reached the Queen's Tower. Jaime gave Green a barely perceptible nod; Green inclined his head in thanks and entered.

Jaime's form vanished down the corridor. The great hall ahead was dotted with small clusters of young men—no more than a dozen in all.

A few glanced up and offered polite nods. Green studied them discreetly and noted their shared traits: all were strikingly handsome, likely not yet past their twentieth year, and most bore the golden lion of House Lannister or the stag of House Baratheon—though Westerlanders outnumbered Crownlanders.

Queen's Affairs Officers?Such beauty would breed rumors even if none were wanted. They looked more like a troop of courtly gallants than stern administrators. Surely Cersei did not require such youthful company every day…

A familiar voice drew his eye. A youth with light brown-gold hair and pale green eyes stood chatting animatedly. His features echoed Jaime's, though with a gentler mien. This was Lancel Lannister, Kevan's firstborn, known at court as the Cupbearer.

"Lancel, congratulations!""I envy you, truly!""Serving the King—your future knows no bounds!""Shh… the Lord Arryn grows frail. Perhaps you will soon sit as Hand of the King.""Aye, only the most steadfast serve His Grace."

Lancel received each compliment with a gracious smile, his bearing polished and smooth. Green mused that this confident young man was yet to learn the sharp barbs King Robert reserved for his attendants.

Seizing the moment, Green stepped forward."Good day, Ser Lancel."

Lancel turned, puzzled for a heartbeat, then recognized Green's marsh-gold sigil."Baron Green of House Clegane! I—thank you. I heard you'd arrived in King's Landing and have longed to meet you."

Green inclined his head courteously."I confess I overheard your fellows' praise and wished to congratulate you."

Lancel's cheeks colored at the praise."I have read the Citadel's ravens twice over. Your tactics were… brilliant. I've always dreamed of leading soldiers, though my kin are scholars and governors, not warriors."

Green relaxed. A fervent admirer, not a rival.

Lancel eagerly recounted Green's campaigns, and the crowd—whether versed in battle or not—gasped and murmured at each boastful flourish. But Green, discomfited by such fawning, slipped away toward the stair.

A clear cry rang through the hall:"Her Grace, the Queen, approaches!"

The officers arranged themselves. Green joined the ranks and stood at attention. All eyes turned to the dais as Cersei descended the marble staircase.

She wore an off-shoulder gown of ivory silk, golden curls spilling over her shoulders. The bodice was embroidered with dragon wings of spun gold, and emeralds glittered at her throat. Her presence drew hushed awe—and, Green thought, more than a hint of longing—in every gaze.

Cersei paused at the foot of the stairs. Jaime, ever her shadow, stood steadfast behind her.

"Good day, my officers," she intoned coolly.

Each man touched a fist to his chest."Good day, Your Grace."

Her emerald eyes swept the hall, then settled on Green."Baron Clegane."

Green stepped forward, hand at his chest."Good day, Your Grace. I am honored beyond words to serve as one of your officers."

His usually measured voice carried just a trace of honest warmth.

Cersei regarded him a moment longer, satisfaction flickering in her eyes. She extended her slim hand. Green knelt, raised her hand to his lips, and kissed its back with ceremonial respect.

A faint smile curved her lips as she accepted his homage.

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