The sun was gone, and the sky was full of stars. So many. She leaned her back against a fluted pillar and wondered if her brother was looking at the same stars tonight, wherever he might be. Do you see the white one, Quentyn? That is Nymeria’s star, burning bright, and that milky band behind her, those are ten thousand ships. She burned as bright as any man, and so shall I. You will not rob me of my birthright!
I take no joy in mead nor meat, and song and laughter have become suspicious strangers to me. I am a creature of grief and dust and bitter longings. There is an empty place within me where my heart was once.
When we met your sister, she promised she would show you to us. Every day we would ask. Every day she would say, “Soon.” Then she and your brother took us to your nursery and she unveiled the freak. Your head was a bit large. Your arms and legs were a bit small, but no claw. No red eye. No tail between your legs. Just a tiny pink cock. We didn’t try to hide our disappointment. “That’s not a monster,” I told Cersei, “That’s just a baby.” And she said, “He killed my mother.” And she pinched your little cock so hard, I thought she might pull it off. Until your brother made her stop. “It doesn’t matter.” she told us, “Everyone says he will die soon. I hope they’re right. He should not have lived this long.”