Chapter 91

"Fuck, are you my dad?" Jam resentfully said.

He again thought of Duke Taywen's arrangements for his several children before his death.

By the standard of 'unpleasant to hear', his words are already fully qualified.

"Your Highness, I'm not a lion," he gave a sheepish laugh, "but I know Duke Taywen indeed had this plan, only later something came up and it couldn't be carried out."

He died, so it couldn't be carried out.

"I want to see the Queen Mother." Jam endured the reproach, smiling, said, "Let's see if my older sister agrees to get married or not!"

Keben fully knows the rumors about him and the Queen Mother; with his shrewdness, he also fully knows whether the rumors are true or false, yet he still dares to say these 'unpleasant to hear' words to his face; Jam feels a strange courage from his foolish boldness, which actually makes him less angry.

"Of course, Your Highness!"

"If you want to secure a minister's position, ensure Red Keep doesn't send out shrill cries outward, and that no one mysteriously disappears from Red Keep, that's at the very least the basic requirement—you must completely forbid human research; I have far less tolerance than my older sister, do you understand?"

"Yes, completely understood, Your Highness." Keben said respectfully with a bow and smile, "If there were something more interesting, nobody would want to deal with that stuff."

"You probably still don't get it," Jam stopped and looked at Keben, "there's really nothing interesting here; once you get used to it, it's just boring tedium, tedious complexity, sometimes accompanied by a foul stench, but……" but you damn well still have to endure and swallow it, "in short, whether this is fun or not, stop, end your experiments, do your job as intelligence chief, fuck, if there's any unrest in the city and you fail to warn the council beforehand, don't blame me for hanging you."

"Sir, your request, I fully understand." Keben said with a smile, "but I have a small research result that will be completed soon; stopping now would be truly a pity, may I be allowed to finish it?" Seeing Jam obviously wanting to refuse, he quickly added, "I believe it will surely be a strong aid for you, sir!"

"What exactly is it?"

"Demon Mountain." He licked his lips, "a new one, completely obedient, won't act foolishly on its own."

He again recalled the black shadow with six eyes. It was supposed to take six people away, but in the end it only killed five.

"Demon Mountain is already dead."

"Of course, Sir Gregor is already dead." Keben looked at Jam and said, "Sir, this is a creature produced by using some knowledge from the Academy's records."

"I don't know when the Academy still teaches, fuck, what is that, blood magic?" Jam questioned him, "No wonder the Academy stripped you of your chains."

"Those chains are merely for show," Keben seemed to recall, "the Academy has true profound knowledge, but it's also equally full of corruption and decadence." He then smiled, "Sir, I do have some insights; I don't know if you'd like to hear them?"

Not interested. "What value does it have?"

"I think it's very valuable." He laughed, "Too many outstanding people in the world can't figure it out."

"Then hurry up and say it! Maybe listening could even make a disabled hand grow another one!" Jam covered his impatience with a sneer.

"Sir, when I was at the Academy, I already understood: seeking truth and being pragmatic requires courage, also requires breaking some rules and limits, but most importantly, holding a high position gives more freedom, better protects courage, and offers the chance to do more meaningful things."

"What are you talking about?" His words are too many and vague, Jam felt uncomfortable, "Although you have no chains, you still pose as a scholar; I don't know what scholar would like you like this."

"Your Highness, you have already delegated the duties of the King's Hand; please firmly hold the position of Regent. Gripping this position is what could keep the kingdom united, and truly protect the kingdom, the king, and even family and kin. You have already broken some rules and limits; I pray you may have even more courage."

"Courage?" Keben always manages to use ordinary language to say something that makes him tremble all over.

"The Regent has immense power and also heavy responsibility." He stood before Jam, ramrod straight, locking eyes, seeking an answer: "Sir, those who frolic without worry in the courtyard, brandishing blades, are merely boys," he pointed to the knights sparring outside the balcony, "while those who can bear responsibility are true men; responsibility so great, bearing it requires extraordinary courage, using that courage to vanquish vanity, selfishness, cowardice, worry, and anger."

Jam gripped his sword with his left hand, looked at his already disabled right hand, stared at Keben's gray hair, feeling as if Duke Taywen had changed into a strange outfit to educate him.

If the person before him were Uncle Kafeng, he would burst out laughing, pretending not to care; if it were Duke Taywen, he would even imitate Tyrion and say some witty remarks—but the person before him is merely a fake scholar stripped of his chains, putting on airs in front of him, which is utterly meaningless.

"Sir, King Robert is matchlessly brave, but he never bore the king's responsibility, let alone the courage to bear responsibility; at best he's just a weak boy with a long beard; Prince Rhaegar lacks self-discipline, abandons responsibility, and can't be called brave; at most he's just a willful youth; they are not true men." He added.

"If those two heard your words, they'd surely jump out of their coffins." He quickly broke out of this tense conversation, "I should go see my dear older sister!"

He wanted Jam to seize power and bear the responsibility that comes with it. He already understood.

He pushed Keben aside and headed toward the Queen Mother's chambers in Meigelou.

For some reason, thinking of Keben's words and then going to see her sister, he actually felt a bit nervous.

When he waited outside the chambers, Cersei had already put back on the robes of the Queen Mother.

She always loved luxury, but now that she's regained freedom, she dresses plainly, actually like a little widow.

"My older sister, just a moment apart, how did you become so beautiful!" Jam exclaimed.

Cersei smiled, lifted the wine pot, and poured wine into the empty cup beside her.

Over all this time, has she ever smiled at him like this?

Even a smile as a reward is now this hard.

"Take it," she said, "just consider it thanks for you saving the king." She held the wine cup toward him.

This looks more like an order.

"Dear older sister, I now have only one hand; if I hold the wine cup, I can't hug you anymore." Jam reached out with his left hand and pulled her into an embrace. He felt his lower body already hard, without doubt, she felt it too.

The wine from the cup spilled onto the floor and her robes, making Cersei angrily jab him with her elbow.

"You're too insolent!" she said, but she didn't resist strongly.

That feeling was like encouragement.

"Saving a Queen Mother, fuck, is a cup of wine thanks enough?" Jam leaned to her white neck, sniffing her fragrance.

What a charming Queen Mother!

"What do you want?" she complained, but didn't break free from his embrace.

"Fuck, you still don't know what I want?" His left hand had already slipped into the gap of her robes.

"You're always like this!" she complained, but didn't block his hand.

"What kind?" Jam asked indifferently, "Fuck, do you expect me to come in that armor? I've been busy all day in armor, I'm already dead tired! I just want to rest here." He continued feeling around, "Good sister, have you already driven away the maids?"

"Busy? You need to be busy? You can just leave it to the people below!" Cersei snapped, "Then find a time to bathe, you reek!"

"Reek? These are all proof of merit; if I didn't leave these, how would you, older sister, know how much I've contributed?"

I almost saved the kingdom.

"Besides, hand it over to underlings?" Jam sneered, "You say it so lightly, but this damn sure isn't the way to rule!"

"When have you ever cared about ruling?" she retorted.

"After having your hand cut off? After losing a few battles?" Jam's hand grew even more reckless, "Anyway, I'm already this incompetent, maybe I could actually excel in this area? Especially after you, older sister, did all these stupid things, I find I'm actually not bad at it."

After hearing that, she shoved him away violently, walked to the wine table, picked up a cup of red wine and gulped it down.

Jam looked at his empty left hand, just wanting to slap his own mouth, feeling a wave of regret.

What he's facing is a proud lioness! Who would listen to criticism?

James simply plopped down onto the wide chair. The night was still long; he had other chances to try slowly.

"I was just deceived by a traitor." She said angrily, "Otherwise, victory would surely have been mine—I was only off by a little."

James admitted that she wasn't as good-looking when she was angry.

"A little?" Cut it out—if it weren't for that little difference, they'd have packed up and fled back to Casterly Rock. "My dear sister, do you misunderstand what 'a little' means? Damn it, a single sparrow is a little, and a flock of knife-wielding little sparrows under his command could ravage the Seven Kingdoms."

"I didn't say anything about the sparrow!" She took another gulp of wine and said angrily, "I was talking about Margery that bitch."

James laughed out loud.

"What are you laughing at?" She turned to him.

"You won't even let me laugh." He laughed even louder, "Margery is the pure queen of our Tommen king—how could she be a bitch?"

"She's Renly's widow!" she shouted angrily.

"Damn it, what's wrong with a widow?" James still laughed, "Isn't that exactly what I like?"

That remark earned Cersei's furious retort—she flung the wine in her hand at James.

James reacted quickly, turning his body sideways.

"Old sis, your swordsmanship isn't bad!" James said, reclining sideways on the chair.

"I'm not in the mood to hear your wisecracks." She turned and stood by the windowsill, opened a window, and looked out at the overcast sky.

The snow began to fall gently again, drifting in through the windowsill; the cold air carried away the gentle atmosphere.

"Come on, sis, close the window—I haven't even finished my drink," James said. "It's freezing now."

"You're not like you used to be!" she declared.

"Of course not," James chuckled, "I used to have two hands!" And a father and brother.

"You never used to complain about the cold; you were always full of energy and drive." She walked back to the wine table, poured herself another cup, and drawled, "You always obeyed my words."

"Damn it, it's winter now. And since I earned the title 'Kingslayer,' I don't have any drive left." He suddenly recalled her latter half: "'Always listen to you, sis'—you're really mistaken; what man would listen to a woman?"

"The loving kind." She asked angrily, "I told you to kill Margery that bitch—did you do it?"

"Margery is a good girl and a good queen." She is beautiful and icy smart, but one must be on guard.

James didn't understand why she hated Margery so much.

"A good girl?" Cersei seemed incredulous that such words would come from his mouth, "She's a bitch; she's slept with a dozen men. How many times has the Hand sent her moon tea?"

"Not more than you." "Cersei is a lying slut; as far as I know, she's slept with Renly, Osmund Kettleblack, and even the moon boy!" He recalled the imp's words.

"Damn it, that's bastard Osmund Kettleblack's slander against her!" James said angrily, knowing far more than she thought, "He the fuck, he's already admitted it himself—that it was done at your behest!"

"I must kill her!" she began to act unreasonably.

When she was young, this could still be considered one of her cute traits; now he doesn't know how to categorize it.

"How to kill?" James also began to lose his patience with anger, "She's Tommen's queen!"

"You could kill her today and frame the sparrow, but you—you chose to do nothing!" she shouted.

"Wow!" James thought she was utterly unreasonable, "Do you really think the Tyrells are just roses, to be trampled at will?"

"You lost your hand, and I see your guts went with it." She said bitterly, then took another sip of wine, "You're not even fit to be Tywin's son!"

"Are you even his son?" James said mockingly with a laugh.

"Just missing a useless prick!" Cersei spat, "Since you won't help me, I'll act on my own. I'll rally my council and slowly drive her, her foolish father, and her sour grandmother to their deaths."

"You can't." James said calmly.

"I'm the regent queen dowager—what can't I do?" she questioned.

"I am the regent appointed by King Tommen!" James said frankly, feeling this moment had finally arrived, "I've already invited Mace Tyrell to return to King's Landing as Hand of the King."

"You're not qualified to be regent!" Cersei raged, "I'll have Tommen strip you of your regent position."

"Whatever." James, frustrated, "Haven't you noticed that your orders to the outside aren't being carried out? The officials despise you!"

"Never!" she said, "I still have the Gold Cloaks commander, the admiral..."

"They're gone." James interrupted her, "I've already dismissed them."

James felt he could have said it more lightly and reassuringly, or waited until after acting to avoid provoking her into a big fight, but now he couldn't bother with that.

"Coben? Paylor?" she realized, "These two traitors!"

"So you can't just be a proper queen dowager?" James advised.

"I'll order the Red Keep guards to kill them and feed them to the dogs!" she snarled.

"You can't." James said helplessly, looking at him, "The Red Guard answers to Mace."

"I'll order Mace to kill them!"

She hadn't yet realized the problem; James pressed his lips, feeling utterly helpless.

"Mace Tyrell is loyal to me." James said.

"You're just a Kingsguard, and damn it, he's gone crazy swearing loyalty to you?" Cersei fumed.

I am no longer a Kingsguard.

He felt a bit flushed, as if the old Kingsguard commanders—Ser Jorro, Ser Arthur, and Prince Lewyn—were watching him, leaving him unable to speak.

"I'll have Damien raise the armies and slaughter you rebels!" she snarled at him, then took another sip of wine.

"You can't." James said weakly.

"I am the Lady of Casterly Rock!" Cersei snarled at him, "I have the right to command Damien to raise a great army!"

"No, you can't." James felt he'd used up his last ounce of strength; today he was already exhausted.

"You want to put me under house arrest?" she said with an incredulous expression.

James rose to his feet, feeling weak and anxious, ill at ease in the already cold bedchamber.

"No. I am now the Duke of Casterly Rock." James said, struggling to stand, addressing her.

What? Doubt completely vanished from her face, replaced by fury, "You dare steal my castle! (Youstolemycastle!), Casterly Rock is mine! You bastard! Mine!"

"Yours?" Jaime felt as if he had fallen into an ice cellar.

He had been groomed as the heir of Casterly Rock since childhood. He still clearly remembers the episode when he put on white robes for Cersei and gave up Casterly Rock. (See: Jaime, chapter eleven of the original Storm of Ice Rain.)

Now she actually claimed before him that Casterly Rock was hers!

"Yours?" he demanded, "Don't you know how Casterly Rock became yours?"

He was infuriated by her tone, uncontrollably, as if meeting this sister for the first time.

"Of course it's mine, you bastard!" she threw down the wine jug, snatched the small tailor's knife from beside the table, and stabbed at Jaime.

"You!" Jaime couldn't believe it!

She had drunk too much, her movements slow and clumsy; Jaime grabbed hold of her knife-wielding hand.

"Are you crazy?" he shouted.

She was already under anger's control, pressing the knife against his throat with both hands, using all her strength.

One hand against two hands.

Jaime's one hand lacked strength, so he had to turn sideways, going with her force to throw her onto the seat, then lunged to seize the knife.

She still wouldn't relent, brandishing the knife and stabbing toward his throat.

Her face was blood-red, fury twisting it; he had never seen such a Cersei.

"Are you crazy!" he bellowed, trying to startle her and divert the knife's direction.

His left hand was firmly gripped by her right hand, pressing down his own weight, making it impossible for him to turn.

He could only extend his right hand's residual limb, pressing with all his might against the knife.

The knife instantly turned and stabbed toward her chest.

She wore a look of shock, as if she were newly recognizing the present situation.

"You, you..." blood seeped from her mouth, welling from her chest.

The divine radiance faded from her face bit by bit—when he killed Iris he had only felt exhilaration; now he felt his whole body tense and trembling.

The bedchamber instantly fell silent, only his own breathing clearly audible.

After a long while, he lifted his head, seeing only the snowflakes outside the window still drifting down slowly.

He only felt cold.