Chapter 27

Chapter 27: Ladies in Lannisport 

…

Joanna Lannister

I sat inside the wheelhouse, the soft creak of the wheels beneath us a familiar sound. The wheelhouse was heading from Casterly Rock to Lannisport.

Cersei sat on my right, her golden curls spilling over her shoulders as she gazed out the small window, her focus lingering on the squire Galahad riding just beyond the carriage. 

I had noticed that over the past moons, her attention had shifted from her brother Jaime to the young squire.

Jaime sat to my left, casually leaning against the cushioned seat, his sharp green eyes absorbing everything beyond the window with his usual quiet confidence. 

The way he carried himself, even at this age, mirrored his father's poise. He was always watching, always learning, though with less formality than Tywin.

Across from me was Nymeria, her dark hair framing her face in loose waves. She smiled warmly as she exchanged light conversation with her daughter, Elia, whose wide, curious eyes darted between the rest of us. 

They were discussing the best places to show me in the city once we arrived, their voices filled with excitement. They had been to Lannisport many times while staying at Casterly Rock, while I had been confined within its walls for what felt like ages.

Today marked my first journey beyond Casterly Rock in many moons. After the long recovery from my pregnancy, I had finally convinced my husband to let me travel to Lannisport. 

The thought of returning to the bustling streets and breathing in the fresh sea air brought a flutter of excitement to my chest. It had been too long since I felt the world beyond the castle, and I longed for the sense of freedom that came with it.

We weren't alone, of course. Outside the carriage, the steady clop of hooves and the occasional call from our escort provided a sense of safety. 

Oberyn Martell, bold and vigilant, rode alongside us. My brothers-in-law, Gerion and Tygett, were with him, their presence familiar and steadying. 

Gerion, ever the playful one, would likely find some mischief before the day was done. Tygett, on the other hand, was more serious, always mindful of his duty.

And then there was Galahad, the young squire with his golden hair and quiet demeanor. He had quickly gained Cersei's and Jaime's attention, but there was something about him that struck me as different. There was an air of mystery to him.

Around the carriage rode ten Lannister knights, their armor clinking softly with each step, a reassuring presence that reminded me of how carefully Tywin had planned this small journey. Even a simple visit to Lannisport was never without its precautions.

The carriage swayed gently, and I took a deep breath, feeling anticipation and a strange sense of calm washing over me. Soon, I would be free of the Rock's towering walls, if only for a short while.

"So," I said, breaking the comfortable silence, turning to Nymeria and Elia, "what do you think I should see first when we arrive?"

Nymeria's face lit up with enthusiasm. "Well, we could go to the theater, the bakery, the fast food market, the club, or the tea house." She rattled off the options as if Lannisport had become an entirely new city since I had last been there. 

I blinked in surprise, these places sounding so foreign. The city had changed so much in my absence.

Elia, ever the practical one, gently interrupted her mother's excitement. "Mom, calm down. It would take the whole day to explore the city. Let's keep it simple."

Nymeria huffed in disappointment, folding her arms with a playful pout. "Okay, okay," she muttered, her tone light but clearly wishing we could see everything at once.

I chuckled, unable to hide my amusement. Nymeria always had a boundless energy, and it was a joy to see her so eager.

"I think the theater and tea house would be perfect for today," 

I said with a smile. "From what you've been describing, it sounds like quite a fun and relaxing experience." I wasn't particularly hungry, so the food market didn't interest me as much. 

As for the club, their descriptions had painted it as a rather hectic place, and with Cersei and Jaime here, I wanted to keep things more peaceful. I'd rather experience the city's excitement with them than leave them behind.

Cersei and Jaime, oblivious to my inner thoughts, continued to gaze out their respective windows. They would love the theater and tea house, I thought.

…

Elia Martell POV

Tears welled in my eyes as I sat in the VIP area of the theater, high above the bustling crowd below. The cushioned seats were plush, the ambiance refined, but I barely noticed it. 

The tragedy unfolding on the stage had gripped my heart, leaving me breathless and overwhelmed.

Beside me, my mother, Princess Nymeria, sat in rapt attention, her dark eyes brimming with unshed tears. 

She wiped at her face with a hankerchief, but the emotion was clear in her expression, her usual confidence softened by the tragedy before us. 

Joanna Lannister, seated to her right, was similarly affected. Her golden hair shimmered in the low light of the lanterns, and though she remained composed, her eyes glistened with tears. 

She dabbed at them delicately with a handkerchief, her focus unwavering on the final moments of the play.

Even Cersei, always so proud and playful, could not hold back her emotions. She sat beside her brother Jaime, the tears streaming down her face as she watched the tragedy unfold. 

Her small hands clenched a handkerchief tightly in her lap, her golden curls framing her tear-streaked cheeks, though she tried to blink them away in an effort to maintain her composure. 

Jaime remained quiet, casting occasional glances at his sister, though his face was a mask of confusion. His eyes were a little watery, betraying the emotions he struggled to contain.

The play had brought all us to tears, our hearts heavy with the weight of the lovers' tragic fate.

We had been watching Romeo and Juliet, a tale of forbidden love, and now it was nearing its tragic end. 

On the stage below, Romeo stood over Juliet's lifeless body, believing her dead. The silence in the theater was heavy, broken only by the soft weeping of a few in the audience, including myself.

Romeo's heart-wrenching soliloquy filled the air, his voice trembling with anguish as he spoke of love lost and dreams shattered. 

He took the vial of poison in his hands, his expression one of resignation and despair, before pressing it to his lips. My chest tightened as I watched him collapse beside her, his death unfolding with heartbreaking finality.

Moments later, Juliet stirred, awakening from her false death only to find Romeo dead beside her. The gasp from the crowd mirrored my own shock.

The actress's performance was so raw, so poignant, that it felt as though the weight of the tragedy crushed all hope.

Juliet's grief was palpable as she clutched Romeo's lifeless body, her sobs echoing through the theater. 

She took his dagger, the sharp blade gleaming under the flickering lights, and in a final, devastating act of love, plunged it into her heart. The thud of her body hitting the floor was the last sound before the curtain began to fall, leaving the audience in stunned silence.

The tragedy was complete. Two lovers, torn apart by fate and family, lay dead, and with them, any hope for peace. The somber finality of the play lingered in the air like a heavy fog, making it hard to breathe. I wiped my tears quickly, but my heart still ached.

The theater was now hushed, save for the soft sobs that escaped from various corners and the occasional murmur of disbelief at the unfolding tragedy. 

My own handkerchief was soaked with tears, the damp fabric now uncomfortable against my skin.

"Here, my lady," a voice from behind me whispered. A moment later, a fresh handkerchief was extended toward me.

I looked up and saw Galahad, his usual composed expression softened by the flickering lantern light. How did he always manage to have so many handkerchiefs on hand? Over the past week, it seemed he was always prepared, as if anticipating moments like these.

Not a moment ago, he had discreetly handed one to me, my mother, Nymeria, Joanna Lannister, and even to Cersei, all of whom had gratefully accepted.

"Thank you," I said, taking the handkerchief with a small smile.

He gave a brief nod, a glint of something warm in his green eyes before returning to his post, ever watchful. As I pressed the fresh cloth to my face, I couldn't help but be grateful for his quiet attentiveness.

…

Cersei Lannister POV

I was in the tea house sitting down at one of the circular tables, the seat slightly too big for me but comfortable enough. Four chairs surrounded the table—occupied by me, my mother, her friend Princess Nymeria, and… Elia.

Elia Martell, my "rival," sat across from me, her dark eyes brimming with curiosity and that ever-present hint of amusement. 

She was always trying to get between me and my brother Jaime's time with Galahad. Over the past weeks, I had noticed her hovering whenever we played together, and it grated on my nerves.

She caught my glance, and her lips curled into a soft smile, as if she knew exactly what I was thinking. 

I tried to focus on the tea and cake in front of me, the soft sweetness of the dessert melting on my tongue. It wasn't as perfect as the ones Galahad made, but it was good enough. The tea helped wash it down, the warmth of it settling into my chest.

"So, Joanna, how did you enjoy the play?" My mother's friend asked, her voice carrying over the soft clatter of cups and quiet murmurs of the tea house.

I looked at my mother. She seemed truly happy, probably the happiest I'd seen her since father's return.

"Yes," she replied with her usual grace. "The food in the theater was delightful, and while the play was tragic, it was beautifully executed. It stirred something within me."

Their conversation continued while I focused on my cake, letting the simple pleasure of it distract me from the noise around. But then, I heard Elia's voice call out, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Squire Galahad," she said, her tone as pleasant as ever.

I glanced up sharply, seeing Galahad approach her. "Yes, princess," he responded, offering her a small nod. The way he said it made something in me tighten. That word, princess. It used to be just for me. Now, there were two more who held that title: Princess Nymeria and Princess Elia.

I didn't care that it was their rightful title. I hated it.

"Do you have one of your cakes?" Elia asked, her voice sweet and innocent, but it felt like a dagger to my chest.

My heart raced, and my face flushed with warmth. Anger. She wasn't just taking his attention now—she was after his cakes, too. The ones that had always been mine and Jaime.

Galahad pulled a small, wrapped cake from his pouch and handed it to her. I felt my heart sink, the bitterness welling up inside me. I wanted to cry.

Then, as if sensing my turmoil, Galahad turned to me. "Do you want some too, Cersei?"

Relief flooded me as I nodded, and he produced a pastry, the one I loved. It was as though he understood, giving me a silent reassurance that I still mattered.

"Wow, it looks delicious," Princess Nymeria chimed in, her playful tone lightening the mood. "Don't you have one for me and Joanna too?"

My mother, who had been quietly enjoying her tea, glanced over and smiled at the sight of us, Elia and I savoring Galahad's cake like it was the best thing we had ever tasted. Because, truly, it was. And soon enough, my mother and Nymeria were sharing in that delight as well.

For a brief moment, all the tension melted away in the sweetness of Galahad's pastry, though the rivalry between Elia and me lingered just beneath the surface.