Chapter 24

"You've wandered all over Winterfell and chose this ‘perfect spot’?"

"My dear sister," Jaime said with a mischievous grin, "we've scoured every corner of Winterfell, and this is the only place where no one else is around."

"But there’s someone downstairs," Cersei retorted sharply, gesturing outside. "He saw us. You even spoke to him! What are you thinking—just having a quick look and leaving?"

"Relax," Jaime replied nonchalantly, pulling her closer as if that would calm her. "If he dares come in, I’ll snap his neck. Besides," he added with a smirk, "don’t you find it... thrilling, knowing that a brother of the Night's Watch is watching us?"

"This place is filthy!"

"Throw your cloak on the ground, problem solved. Come on, stop hesitating."

"Damn it, Jaime! Let me go!"
----


Cersei struggled but ultimately yielded, Jaime effortlessly pulling her into his embrace like a child scooping up a toy.

"You’re always so reckless," she muttered bitterly. "One day, your arrogance will get you killed."

"Perhaps," Jaime admitted, unperturbed. "But what can I do? My sister is simply too irresistible." He paused, running a hand through her golden hair. "Everyone dies eventually, Cersei. Might as well enjoy life while it lasts."

"Don’t give me your twisted logic!"

"Fine, fine, no more talk," Jaime said, stepping back slightly. "If you’re so worried about the man downstairs, let’s check on him."

"What are you doing?" Cersei demanded, her voice rising as he nudged her toward the window. "Have you gone mad?"

"Relax. He won’t see us."

The siblings approached the window, peering cautiously outside. In the courtyard below, the Night’s Watch ranger remained focused on his archery practice, firing arrow after arrow into the target with mechanical precision. He never looked up, nor showed any intention of entering the First Keep.

The window was small—deliberately designed as a defensive feature. Even if Aegor looked up, all he could see was the distant figure of Queen Cersei gazing down, with Jaime Lannister standing behind her. Anything below their shoulders was obscured by the window frame.
----


"Feeling better now?"

"You’re insufferable," Cersei snapped, though the tension in her shoulders had eased slightly. Despite herself, she couldn’t deny the strange, illicit thrill of the situation. But she hadn’t come here just for this. "Stop messing around, Jaime. I need to ask you something important—do you think Stark agreed to Robert’s proposal?"

"Do I need to?" Jaime scoffed. "With Robert’s personality, if Stark had refused, do you think the king would still be lounging around Winterfell for weeks, happily going on hunts? Soon enough, we’ll have a true Northerner gracing the Small Council."

"I don’t like this," Cersei muttered, her expression troubled. "The Hand of the King should’ve been you."

"Spare me," Jaime replied with a snort. "I want no part of that miserable job. There are better things to do with my time."

"You don’t see the danger here?" Cersei said, her frustration mounting. She jabbed a finger into his chest. "Robert treats Stark like a brother."

"‘Like a brother’? You mean like how he treats his actual brothers? If I remember correctly, he can’t stand Stannis." Jaime smirked. "Can you blame him? With a brother like that, anyone would lose their appetite."

"This is different," Cersei pressed. "Stannis and Renly are one thing, but Eddard Stark is something else entirely. Robert listens to him! Those two should rot in hell together. I should’ve insisted he appoint you instead... I thought Stark would refuse."

"Why do you hate the Starks so much? Sure, I don’t like them either, but this is a blessing in disguise," Jaime said, casually discarding his cloak. For today’s excursion, he had purposefully left his Kingsguard armor behind. "Think about it—if Stark had refused, Robert might’ve picked Stannis or Littlefinger instead. Between an ambitious schemer and a man obsessed with honor, I’d rather face the honorable enemy."

"We need to keep an eye on him."

"Do what you want. I’d rather keep my eyes on you," Jaime said, his voice dropping as he pulled her closer. "Come here—"

"Wait!" Cersei suddenly pushed him back, her attention snapping to the window. "There’s a noise outside."

"What now?" Jaime followed her gaze, leaning out to look.

Down in the courtyard, the Night’s Watch ranger was no longer alone. A young boy—a Stark, no doubt—sat perched on the wall, his legs swinging carelessly as the man below shouted up at him. The boy didn’t seem to care. Instead, he stood up and began walking along the wall like a tightrope walker, arms outstretched for balance.

Eventually, the ranger gave up shouting and hurried out of the courtyard, presumably to intercept the boy elsewhere.

"They’re gone," Jaime said, turning back. "Satisfied?"

"Satisfied?" Cersei repeated, her expression hardening. "How could I be? Eddard Stark has never meddled in southern politics before. If he’s coming to King’s Landing now, it’s to deal with us. Why else would he leave his stronghold?"

"You’re overthinking things. There are plenty of reasons Stark might leave the North—duty, honor, Robert’s pleading, or maybe even a desire to make his mark in history. Hell, maybe he just wants a warmer climate to relax in for a while."

"You’re blind, Jaime," Cersei snapped. "He’ll do Robert’s bidding to the letter, and that makes him dangerous."
----


Their argument was interrupted by another commotion outside.

"Now what?" Jaime muttered, stepping back to the window. Below, the ranger had returned to the courtyard, gesturing animatedly at someone—or something—on the wall above. Jaime leaned out further, his annoyance growing, until his eyes caught sight of the boy.

The young Stark was scaling the wall of the First Keep, leaping from one gargoyle to the next with the carefree confidence of a child who didn’t understand fear.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jaime barked. "Get down!"

Startled, the boy glanced toward the window, his eyes meeting Jaime’s. His balance wavered. Before Jaime could react, the boy’s foot slipped, and he fell.

"Hey!" Jaime lunged forward, his hand outstretched, but it was too late. He watched helplessly as the boy’s small figure plummeted toward the ground.

For a moment, there was only silence.
----


Jaime stared out the window, frozen. Slowly, his lips parted, and a name escaped in a faint whisper.

"Bran."