qwert

"She has his eyes," Jaime frowned.

It was only the three of them in the room. The Queen, her brother and Cersei's second-born child, Myrcella Baratheon. The Maester and the serving maids had all departed at her command. Her husband was still out hunting.

"She's yours; he hasn't spilled his revolting seed in me in years."

Jaime didn't look convinced but shrugged. Cersei loved her twin, her other half, but like many men he cared little for very young children. She considered it for the best as it meant he did not dote on his offspring and draw suspicion on them.

Truth be told it could have been Robert's, she was careful and the lech so terribly drunk he rarely recalled how Cersei emptied him but sometimes the brute just took her. Those rare occurrences she when that occurred, she took Moon Tea. She would not bear her husband a true born child.

The babe had certainly wailed more than her first child but she was small and already had a mop of blond hair. No, she had been careful, it couldn't be Robert's. It couldn't be, regardless of her eyes.

"And how are you feeling?" Her lover asked.

"Exhausted but glad it is done. She will be my little lioness."

Chapter 1

​

Being X had screwed me once again, I just didn't know how yet. This life was simply too good to be true. Sure, I was once again in the body of a girl, but not an orphan this time; in fact I was royalty! There was no hardship or depravation. Why was I here? I had been certain some terrible fate or oblivion would be what I had to look forward to upon my death.

Dying had been unpleasant enough and I had thought it but a prelude to what would occur next. Speaking of my death, it was a rather cruel irony.

I had no reason at all to fight so hard to protect the person I had been ordered to assassinate. The death of General Rudersdorf had been the entire purpose of me being with the convey. It soured my stomach as I remember how desperate I had been to make the defense look believable. The company I led had used our protective shells to literally body block the explosive formula and shots fire on the plane. I had underestimated how many Albion elites had been part of the assault and the wave of fire had torn apart my defenses. Had I been using my normal stratagems I would have dodged. I should have dodged. But I didn't, instead I let fear of my duplicitous mission being found out cause me to take a poor risk.

Occasionally I wonder if my heroics saved the very person I had been sent to kill. There was no way of knowing, as this was clearly a completely different world.

A world where I was a princess in the lap of luxury. The daughter of King Robert Baratheon the First of his Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm. Not to say that it was all good. I was clearly in a very technologically backward world. This version of reality didn't even have proper seasons! To say nothing of other joys of modern comfort. Toiletries, central air, and proper healthcare which were all beyond the grasp of this medieval society.

At least I was safe for the time being. My earliest years I had little memory of, I suspect it was all in jumbles fitting two lifetimes of memories into a tiny undeveloped brain. By three everything I knew had returned to me. Boredom was my biggest foe but soon was I was able to prove my precociousness and my education was accelerated. This new world was not completely unlike my first world's history. Similarities with medieval Europe were found all around. I did not stint in my studies. It's a virtue to learn whenever the opportunity presents itself.

The Seven Kingdoms, though really it was nine distinct realms and not seven, were under a relatively new dynasty. My father had overthrown the old mad King and the Targaryen family with it. During the rebellion, said mad King was slain by uncle Jaime, earning him the moniker "Kingslayer." People looked down on him for this but he did what needed to be done. Just like I had originally been prepared to do what needed to be done about Rudersdorf. Much of the former royal family was slain including his son and two grandchildren. That was likely my deepest worry; if the Baratheons were overthrown like the Targaryen's that would likely be my fate. What could a child, or even an adult woman, do if confronted by men with blades and armor?

Very little. I could do more in a situation like that than most but wining such a conflict would be beyond me. I had two factors in my favor. One, is I am no stranger to war. I had no hesitancy to kill and that would likely surprise any would be assailant. I carried a small knife hidden on my person and knew exactly where to strike to end an attacker's life.

The second advantage was my abilities. Which were sadly quite pathetic compared to the power I wielded in my second life. I could still do some magic, this body had magic circuits and I could to a small extent replicate what I could do with a computation orb. Before their invention there had been those rare few who had the ability to manipulate reality around themselves without the aid of technology but it was so rare most thought it even a myth or an exaggerated story. There was as reason why the young were tested for magical ability, instead of just knowing they had it, it was because utilizing said ability was nearly impossible. Nearly. But not fully impossible and that is what I studied and tried to perfect.

Sadly, only to limited utility. The computation orb actualized phenomena by applying the appropriate amount of stimulus to the right location. It automatically calculated the appropriate amounts of mana needed with analog arithmetic and theoretically whatever it could do could be replicated by applying said formulas yourself. So much easier said than done.

To put it simply you would need to be an idiot savant or some type of super genius to reliably use formulas on the fly without an orb. But that wasn't the only problem. Either this body had very little mana available to it or something about this world resisted the use of magic. I theorized it was likely the latter as my body didn't feel much different than my second one. Which of course begged the question why I literally looked almost exactly like Tanya Degurechaff. It wasn't exact, likely due to enjoying all the food that I desired, but my facial features were alike. My eye color down to the exact shade of my second body. My hair the exact coloring. I mostly took after my mother but my eyes came from my father, the king. And yet the coincidence here didn't make sense. I just happened to be born into a family that could give me the features that I had in my past life? Ridiculous, I was being toyed with somehow and I couldn't understand the angle that Devil was playing.

Returning to the subject of the difficulties I faced with magic. I could mimic some of what a computation orb could do but only the most simple of feats. The first I tested was the typically passive protective film used in personal defense on the battlefield. It wasn't the more active defense shell which could stop high caliber rounds but I had hoped it would at least do something. And technically it did but the efficacy was laughable. It couldn't stop a fork using only slight pressure. Absurdly useless against an attack, wearing an extra layer of silk would do as much against a sword. Yet even using it exhausted me after only a short time.

I moved on from personal defense to other ideas. Explosive formulas were not something I wanted to experiment with but optical formulas might have some merit. They didn't. After days of trial and error I finally mastered being able to use it mentally. Again, to not much benefit. I couldn't do it fast which likely killed most of its utility then and there and secondly it had no punch. A normal optical formula was effectively a heat beam. The Republican mages were experts with it but even they likely couldn't make it work in the land of Westeros. I couldn't even heat water with it. If someone stood perfectly still and let me use it on them for a few minutes they might break out into a sweat. Maybe, if I had the energy to even keep it up that long, which I didn't.

I had initially been hesitant to attempt formulas that effected my brain but when I saw how much mana it took for even minimal modifications to reality I went ahead. Doping myself still worked, I could improve my reaction time and give myself intracerebral narcotics. It wasn't as effective as what I had used as Tanya but it did make a difference. My balance and reflexes were all heightened. With it I could juggle cutlery or throw a knife with great accuracy. I could even do gymnastic tricks without falling flat on my face. It did still exhaust me and it took a few moments to cast but I would take what I could get.

The other useful ability was to apply force on my own body in a direction. Flight was definitely out but I could jump higher than what was physically possible. I could also move sideways or slow my descent. This could help me get me away from an attacker or even turn the tables on them.

I of course told no one of what I could do. A trick up your sleeve isn't any good if everyone knows about it. Also, there were other considerations such as the church viewing magic as an abomination. Organized religion would always be something I would be wary of and I didn't want their attention and target on my back even if I had the protection of the crown.

Fortunately, the odds of me having to defend myself physically were low at the moment. The Seven Kingdoms is the strongest nation state in the world. Internally there was little love between various houses but none could challenge Robert. The man who raised him was his Hand and represented house Arryn of the Vale. His wife was Queen Cersei Lannister, daughter of the richest Lord and Warden of the West. He was good friends with the Lord of House Stark and ties of marriage bound the Tully's to Arryn and Stark. He himself was the initial Lord of the Storm Lands who were now ruled by my uncle Lord Renly. The only real enemies were House Greyjoy who had recently been crushed after their attempt at rebellion. Dorne and the Reach had sided with the Targaryen family and so could be sources of discontent but against the rest of the realm it was not feasible for them to rebel. Besides, the Martells and the Tyrells did not like each other as there was bad blood between their two lands throughout history.

The political situation was well in hand despite the fact my father is a drunken oaf who has no business running a department let alone a nation. As best I can tell, the only reason the realm had not significantly suffered under his rule is due to him not ruling. He left most of that up to his Small Council and the Hand Jon Arryn who was a capable manager. The Hand was very similar to that of a CEO selected by the Board of Directors, only in this case simply selected by the King. It was said that what the king dreams, the Hand of the King builds.

However, knew that wasn't the true secret to the realm's success. What truly kept the court running was my mother, Cersei Lannister. Most would not think so because they only saw the façade of the proud and beautiful queen. Likely that was precisely the way she wanted it. It even took me, someone with two lifetimes of experience and knowledge of the cutthroat world of corporate HR and the political machinations of the Empire's military system some time to piece things together.

My first clue was how my mother quickly sensed I did not like being mothered. Most would have taken it as an affront or sought to cling harder or maybe even begin to hate their child but not Cersei. She clearly saw that a typical overtly motherly love was not something I desired. Instead, she devoted her attentions to her first born and heir to the Seven Kingdoms. Such insight could only mean she had Emotional Intelligence far beyond the norm.

Early on in life I made it a habit to learn the names of my maids, servants, and guards. I would thank them and grace them with a smile. Remembering people's names is critical to professional success in leading others. By recalling people's names, it shows that you are interested in them and causes them to feel valued. It is a simple thing but one that can pay dividends in the future in loyalty.

The family, which meant my two siblings, my mother and uncle Jaime had sat down for a meal. A servant presented a dish and I thanked her. Cersei looked down the table at me with a fierce expression.

"Child, why do you bother addressing the servants so?"

At first, I thought I was being chastised for some social faux pas. My etiquette lessons with the Septa had not advised me that thanking servant was a social taboo. While others did not regularly do so it did seem to be wrong.

"I appreciate their hard work and diligence. Their efficiency is praiseworthy."

"It is not praiseworthy it is the bare minimum. Had they done any less they would be punished or cast out of our service." She countered.

This was shortsighted! While I agree that Machiavelli had some excellent points about it being better to be feared than loved this really didn't apply to menial roles. Before I could speak up in defense, I figured it out. Cersei, the master manipulator, and skilled political savant that she was could not possibly care how I treated the help. What she was doing was highlighting what I was doing. Now every servant in the room could see my actions and if I continued to do it later without my mother present it would be so much more meaningful to them! My stature and reputation among the serving class could only be enhanced by her calling out the behavior.

I inclined my head. "Forgive me mother, you are quite right. I see now."

Obviously, I saw through her subterfuge and she saw that I saw. That is why she graced me with a faint smile. Joffrey, my foolish brother, had snickered as if I was somehow in trouble or had lost face. No quite the opposite in fact. From that day on I continued to recognize the 'small folk' as it were and called them by name when I wasn't around the Queen. And they loved me even more for it.

With my family having things well in hand I wasn't terribly worried but I could not escape the paranoia that it would all come crashing down due to the vile machinations of Being X. He would fuck with me and turn the life of luxury into a charnel house. I just knew it. I had to be prepared. I would be prepared.

Last edited: Jul 24, 2024

1706

Failninja

Jun 1, 2023

Reader mode

Threadmarks

Threadmarks Chapter 2

Threadmarks

Failninja

Failninja

Subscriber Award Recipient

Jun 1, 2023

#2

Chapter 2

​

Tyrion Lannister did not know what to make of his only niece. On the surface Myrcella was a completely dutiful child, the perfect miniature lady who knew all her courtesies and never missed a single step. She was unfailingly polite and friendly with all around her, and that included him. She had never once looked down on him for his dwarfism, something that was a sad rarity.

"It is good to see you again uncle Tyrion." She said with a smile on her face. A smile that never reached her eyes. The girl had only just reached her ninth name day and Tyrion had been late in his attendance. A normal girl would be cross with him for missing the festivities. A normal girl may wonder if he had got her a present. Not Myrcella.

"Thank you dear, I am sorry that I missed your name day celebration."

"No pardon is necessary, there were many people there and I would much rather speak with you privately than in a crowd."

"And why is that?"

"Crowds are noisy and I must give each well-wisher their due, it does not allow for lengthy discussion."

"In that case I will endeavor to miss many more name days!" His voice growing more boisterous, something that delighted young Tommen but never changed Myrcella's expression, be she 4 or 9.

"That will not be necessary if you promise to visit like you are today."

"Always my dear. Now, aren't you curious what I've got for you?"

After a moment her smile widened a bit. He grinned at the mild response and told her to follow him. She stood and they left her rooms, followed by Ser Arys Oakheart, the Kingsguard watching over her today.

They made their way down to the royal stables where his gift was. A beautiful white palfrey awaited. The young princess had made mention of enjoying being on horseback as opposed to travelling in a wheelhouse. She had a pony but not a true horse. His niece thanked him and remarked on how wonderful of a gift it was. Her smile was there. But her eyes never changed.

He watched her as she fed the horse by hand under the stable master's guidance, bonding with the animal. Every move she made was proper, stately and when the horse whinnied, she was not started in the least.

"How are your studies going? Last we spoke you had already mastered more than most noble sons do by maturity."

"I enjoy reading and the concepts are fascinating. I fear Grand Maester Pycelle is growing tired of my requests for more texts from the Citadel."

"The old fool is rarely of any real help." Tyrion mocked.

"He is kind and a loyal friend to the family. May I ask a personal question uncle?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "By all means."

"Why do you war with mother so much, she's your sister you should be working together."

"We aren't at war sweetling, we just don't like each other."

Her smile was gone, her eyes unchanged.

"Why?"

Tyrion sighed. Should he share with his niece what a foul cunt her mother was? It didn't seem proper and likely it would just lead to more difficulties.

"Not everyone can get along with everyone. She doesn't like some of my hobbies. It is nothing to be alarmed about."

"Hobbies?"

Ser Arys shifted uncomfortably.

"I enjoy drinking and bedding whores." He said nonchalantly.

"I hope you are careful uncle as there are several different types of venereal diseases you can catch if you aren't cautious."

Tyrion blinked. Would nothing get a reaction from her? Before he could respond she continued right along.

"I don't think you are being truthful with me however for my sake could you try to be kinder to each other? Mother says family is more important than anything else and I agree with her. Knowing that you have lifelong allies who will never betray you is a boon."

Tyrion frowned. "You've read your histories, the Dance of Dragons, family is no sure shield."

"It can be and it behooves us to be united." Myrcella mounted the palfrey side saddle. "Mother doesn't allow me to roam out into the city but I believe I will take some time riding her here. She is an exquisite gift, thank you."

Tyrion watched her as she expertly guided the beast. She was a fine animal; he had paid quite the pretty penny for her. He had hoped for a greater reaction, it was maddening how the child never truly acted a child. That wasn't quite true, when she was very young, she acted not much different than others her age but after she had turned three Cersei had somehow transformed her into this perfect doll.

It bothered him that he had no idea what she had done to her. Had she terrified her? Had she threatened her? No that didn't make sense, she certainly never showed a shred of fear. The girl was also more intelligent than she had a right to be. Tyrion prided himself on his wits but her ability to understand accounting and even the mathematics that go into construction was uncanny. Yes, he learned it all as well, but not by nine!

In truth he thought it was a shame the Citadel did not allow women to study; her mind would likely run circles around them. He watched as she trotted the mare back and forth in the run.

"Ser, do you think Myrcella is happy?"

"My Lord?" He asked, caught off guard by the question.

"Never mind, an idle thought."

Tyrion wondered what match would be made for her. The Hand would likely push for a match with Highgarden or Dorne. Uniting all the realms by marriage. It worried him as Dorne was still enraged by the deaths of Elia and her children. It was a pity whoever she married would likely not appreciate the fine mind she possessed.

The run had ample room and as she turned back around toward the stable, she signaled the animal to go from a trot to a gallop. The stable master shouted for her to slow down but she ignored him. Tyrion's heart clenched, riding side saddle at a gallop was dangerous unless the rider was experienced. The only thing that stilled his tongue for a moment was the look of brief joy that finally reached her eyes as the wind caught her hair and she rode.

The stable master yelled loudly and rushed out trying to go for the reins. The spirited horse wasn't interested in being grabbed when her rider hadn't given a command yet. Myrcella's eyes focused again and she bid the palfrey to halt with a pull on the reins, the combination of the mount trying to dodge the man and then abruptly slowing down caused Myrcella to slip off.

Tyrion and Ser Arys cursed and rushed forward, only to see Myrcella twist in the air, land on her feet and then roll away from the horse who was now brought back under control by the now terrified stable master.

"Princess are you all, right?" Ser Arys longer legs had outpaced Tyrion's and got to her side first.

"Aside from my dress I'm perfectly fine." She looked at the three worried expressions.

"I am fine." She said more firmly. "I've fallen from a pony before, and have been taught how to do it properly."

Tyrion looked at her disbelieving. "Seven Hells Myrcella, I doubt someone taught you to tumble like that. A good way to break your neck!"

The poor Master of Horse apologized profusely but the Princess shook her head. "Jason, you have nothing to apologize for, and I would ask the three of you to not share with others my shame over having fallen from my mount. I would take it as a kindness."

Ser Arys. "I have vowed to defend your person and your honor. If you are truly unhurt this matter will never be spoken of again."

Tyrion knew she didn't care about the 'shame' of falling. She had done it so Jason the King's Master of Horse wouldn't have to face her mother's wrath. There was not a moment of hesitation, her mind had quickly seen the danger and acted to head it off. The grateful man was already bowing and promising to never speak a word of it to anyone.

"In the future Myrcella take things slower, you truly could have been injured."

"Yes, uncle you are right, it was my own eagerness that flew ahead of my good sense."

No change in her eyes. He was admonishing her but it didn't change her composure at all. Falling and rolling in the dirt did not change her composure either. The only time her eyes came alive was when she was galloping with the wind in her hair.

"I am a bit weary now, my thanks again Tyrion." She gave him a quick hug and Ser Arys followed her back to the Royal Apartments.

Tyrion Lannister looked on and then shook his head. He needed wine.