Lancel perked up again, his youthful face lit with a pure and eager smile."Don't worry. I'll remember your wise advice. Tyrion once told me something similar—he said growing up is, in the end, a kind of blessing."
Grenn clapped him on the shoulder and sat back down."I've arranged for you to ride in the column just behind the queen's carriage. I believe that's where you'd like to be."
Lancel blinked in surprise."I still get to serve as a guard? Then what were all those warnings for?"
Grenn shrugged."That was me, speaking to you as a friend—offering guidance. And now I'm still speaking as a friend—helping you fulfill a small wish."
Lancel's eyes lit up."Baron Grenn, you're too kind. I owe you for this. I swear, I won't do anything reckless!"
Grenn smiled at his earnest promise.
The morning sun bathed King's Landing in golden light.
Today, the royal hunting party would set out for the Kingswood. Queen Cersei would leave the Red Keep by carriage, travel through the inner city, and depart the capital via the Lion Gate.
Outside the gate, Her Grace would personally receive the noble ladies and daughters of the Crownlands and the capital's northern districts. Only once those formalities concluded would the procession begin its journey southward toward the Kingswood.
Noblewomen from the southern Crownlands would join the queen's escort along the way, depending on the locations of their estates.
Those from farther-flung lands would proceed directly to the hunting grounds without merging into the queen's column.
Clad in silver plate and a blue cloak, Grenn stood by the ornately adorned carriage, flanked by officers of both the Lannister red cloaks and the city's gold cloaks, awaiting Queen Cersei's arrival.
The security force under Grenn's command totaled 764 men: 63 blue cloaks from Ser Clebr, 201 Lannister red cloaks (including one smuggled in—Lancel), and 500 gold cloaks.Each noble lady also brought her own retinue of household guards.
A herald's cry rang out: "The Queen approaches!"
Hand in hand with Princess Myrcella and crowned in glittering jewels, Queen Cersei emerged into view.
Her crown, encrusted with gemstones, gleamed in the sun.
The Kingswood Hunt was almost a retreat from men. Aside from the guards and attendants, no other noblemen would accompany them. Joffrey and Tommen had both remained behind at the Red Keep.
As the queen approached, Grenn and the others placed hands over their hearts and bowed low.
With his head inclined, Grenn caught a glimpse of the hem of Cersei's gown.He could feel her gaze settle briefly on him.
Sure enough, her voice came—calm and curt:"Baron Grenn. You've done well."
By the time he looked up, she was already moving past him.
He wasn't sure what to make of her rare praise.
Then, Princess Myrcella turned back and met his gaze.
Her clear eyes held a smile, and she gave him a gentle nod.
Grenn understood. He nodded in return, then looked away.
So—that was it. Myrcella.
It made sense. Cersei's praise always came with a reason. It was never cheap—and often, it was a prelude to a knife.
That was Cersei.
Straightening his back, Grenn's eyes were drawn to the man following behind her: Ser Jaime Lannister.
Today, Jaime wore no armor—an unusual sight. Instead, he was dressed in a deep crimson robe bearing the golden lion of House Lannister, with black leather boots.
A light breeze lifted his golden hair, which shimmered in the morning light.
Without his armor, Jaime looked less like a warrior and more like a highborn noble. The martial sharpness was gone—but his beauty was all the more striking for it.
As he passed, Jaime shot Grenn a sidelong glance—cool, almost threatening.
Grenn didn't respond. Inwardly, he scoffed.Dressed like a strutting peacock. Does he think this is some courtly pageant?
A courtly pageant… The thought clicked in Grenn's mind.
He felt rather satisfied with his decisions from the day before—especially assigning the entirety of the queen's night guard duty to the Lannister red cloaks.
After Cersei and Myrcella boarded the carriage, still hand in hand, Grenn signaled the officers to return to their posts.
In golden armor, Lancel approached with a bright grin, leading Grenn's horse. His squire, Martil, stood beside him with an exasperated look.
Mounting up, Grenn took the whip from Lancel's hand and waved him off."Once we've left the city, no need to ride so close to the queen's carriage. Drop back. Keep watch on the rear. If anything seems amiss, report it to me at once."
Lancel nodded eagerly and rode off, visibly pleased.
As the column prepared to move, Grenn dispatched a detachment of gold cloaks ahead to clear the way.
With the orders given, he flicked the reins and rode up beside the queen's carriage.
"Your Grace," he said, "everything is ready."
A cool voice replied from within:"Proceed."
With gold cloaks leading the procession, the march began in good order.
By midmorning, they had entered the Queen's District.
As Cersei's carriage came into view, cheers rose in waves along the streets.
Inside, Myrcella peeked eagerly out the window."Mother! They love you so much!"
Faced with her daughter's shining eyes, Cersei tilted her chin and allowed herself a faint smile."One day, you'll be just like me."
Myrcella shook her golden curls."Mother, look at them. You're incredible. Even Father never earned this kind of love. I never could, either."
Though pleased by the cheers, Cersei refused to look out at the crowd.
What good is the love of commoners?
She hadn't forgotten the slanders once whispered in these same streets.
If not for her decision to place her trust in Baron Grenn back then… who knows what might've come to pass?
Things were now as they should be. She was a lioness of House Lannister—born to be adored by sheep.
Looking down at Myrcella, Cersei reached out and gently ran her fingers through her daughter's golden curls.
"Myrcella, your beauty will be your greatest weapon in the years ahead."
Myrcella blinked up at her, puzzled.
Cersei bent low and kissed her brow.
"Your mother will teach you, in time."
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🔥 The Throne's Last Flame — A Song Forged in Ice and Wrath 🔥
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