Chapter 203: The Kingsguard
The Skyreach City.
Cersei Lannister knelt before the altar of the Maiden, bowing her head in prayer.
Her son Joffrey's coffin lay under the altar of the Stranger, the one who guides the dead to the other world.
The hall was filled with the strong scent of incense, and hundreds of burning candles illuminated the surroundings.
"Kingslayer" Jaime Lannister stood behind his sister, but his eyes were unfocused.
His right hand was severed at the elbow, his hair dishevelled, his clothes in disarray, as if he hadn't taken care of himself for a long time.
"The convoy is ready," Jaime said hoarsely. "Let's take little Joffrey back to King's Landing for burial."
Cersei slowly stood up and approached her son's open coffin.
According to custom, the dead king was adorned in gilded armour.
The golden light shimmered before her eyes, and Cersei couldn't help but think of the prophecy the 'Maggy the frog' had made about her destiny—
"You will have three children …Gold will be their crowns, gold their shrouds."
—No!!
Cersei was suddenly overcome with terror. When she was young, the Frog Witch had sucked the blood from her fingers and foretold her fate.
She had refused to believe the prophecies until they started coming true one by one.
She did marry the king and had three children. Joffrey had worn the golden crown, and now he was shrouded in a golden shroud. Would Tommen wear the golden crown too? And Myrcella... No, no!
"... You'll be Queen, for a time. Then comes another — younger, more beautiful — to cast you down and take all you hold dear..."
—No! Never!
Cersei trembled. The eerie and haunting voice of the Frog Witch still echoed in her ears—
"... And when your tears have drowned you, the valonqar [High Valyrian for "little brother"] shall wrap his hands about your pale white throat and choke the life from you."
—No!
Cersei exclaimed. "Jaime, promise me! Promise me that you will avenge Joffrey's death if you find that man!"
Jaime smiled wryly and raised his severed hand as if to show Cersei that he couldn't fulfil her request. "How can I kill anyone like this? And..."
The expression of pain mingled with fear appeared on the Kingslayer's face. "And even if my hands were intact, I wouldn't be a match for that person. You saw it too, with his sword..."
"Then you'll let that man go free!"
Cersei angrily cried out. "No matter how powerful he is, can he stand against an army? Your hand is broken. But are you out of your mind? Don't you know how to command the army? Don't forget, Joffrey was also your son!"
'I almost forgot', Jaime thought to himself.
He tried to recall Joffrey's face but found it blurred. Yes, that was his child, his blood, but at this moment, he felt surprisingly calm.
If the Seven Gods gave him the chance to choose between his son and his right hand, he knew he would choose his right hand without hesitation.
Although Joffrey was his son, he had never truly been a father to him. He hadn't even held the baby once.
When he had made the request in the beginning, Cersei had bluntly refused, claiming that they looked too much alike and it would raise suspicions.
After all, all he wanted was Cersei, and the three children were mere incidental gifts bearing the Baratheon name.
When Eddard Stark revealed the truth to the public, Jaime didn't panic in his heart; instead, he felt relieved.
He had actually wanted to take Cersei and the children back to live in Casterly Rock. As for the Iron Throne, whoever wanted it could have it.
Unfortunately, his father refused to admit defeat, and his sister refused to give up.
"I will avenge Joffrey," Jaime said, not wanting to see Cersei's saddened expression.
"I will."
He then turned to look at Joffrey's open coffin. He had to admit, Joffrey looked quite handsome when he was at peace.
After all, he had inherited the striking features of the most distinguished couple of their generation in House Lannister. But as soon as he opened his mouth, Jaime couldn't help but cover his ears.
"Then go now!"
Cersei's words caught Jaime off guard.
"Now? But Father has ordered the retreat..."
"No!"
Cersei interrupted, screaming. "I want you to lead the army to Eagle's Island. Hang the murderer who killed my son, our son!"
Cersei's request momentarily annoyed him. "Where am I supposed to get an army? The Northern Army has already gone with Eddard Stark.
Mace Tyrell, despite his friendly attitude, is about to withdraw with the Reach army. As for the nobles in the realm, why would they obey a Lannister like me?"
"Then go with Mace Tyrell. He has promised to marry his daughter to Tommen. But that Margaery has been taken away by Samwell now. Go to Eagle Island with him, find Margaery, and kill the king's murderer and that kidnapper!"
Jaime furrowed his brow and remained silent. Cersei clenched her teeth in anger, but she, being familiar with Jaime's temperament, didn't erupt in anger again. Instead, she stepped forward, reaching out to stroke his face.
"Jaime, my heart is bleeding," Cersei said softly, her voice filled with sorrow.
Cersei tiptoed and kissed Jaime's lips. He trembled suddenly, then pulled her tightly into his arms, responding passionately.
"No, we shouldn't..." Cersei struggled, "Not here..."
But Jaime paid no attention, hastily pulling her clothes, while Cersei yelled angrily, "Damn it! Who let you in?"
However, when he saw the person who entered, he froze on the spot.
"Kingslayer, Cersei,"
Barristan Selmy, Captain of the Kingsguard, stood at the door, looking at the siblings coldly as they stood there, caught in their illicit act.
"Lord Eddard was right about you."
"Get out! Get out!" Cersei yelled angrily.
"I will," Barristan said icily, "and I will go far away."
Jaime, finally composed, retorted, "What do you mean?"
"It means that my duty ends here," Barristan Selmy declared, unfastening his breastplate.
"Today, I resign as Captain of the Kingsguard."
"No!"
Jaime replied instinctively. "The duty of the Kingsguard is for life! Barristan, you swore only death could release you from your duty!"
"Whose death?"
Barristan undid his armor. "The king I served has died four times already.
I should have joined them to death when we were at the banks of the Trident. However, Robert Baratheon's presence moved me, and I willingly served him. But your son, that bastard Joffrey..."
"Kill him!"
Cersei screamed. "Jaime, kill the old man!"
Jaime didn't move. How could he dare to kill Barristan Selmy? It wasn't just a matter of capability.
Even if he was capable, Barristan Selmy, the "Barristan the Bold," was a revered figure.
The Captain of the Kingsguard, the ender of the Blackfyre Rebellion, a kingsguard for forty years, serving four kings consecutively—he was almost a symbol of royal power.
In the minds of the people of the Seven Kingdoms, he was a legendary figure on par with "Mirror Shield" Savin and "Dragon Knight" Aemon.
To kill him would tarnish the reputation of House Lannister instantly.
Therefore, Jaime couldn't bring himself to make a move.
No matter how much his sister roared, Barristan Selmy remained untouched.
Barristan unfastened his sword and threw it to the ground, saying with a sigh, "What a glorious title the 'Kingsguard' used to be.
The kingsguard of previous generations were all legendary figures, renowned throughout the Seven Kingdoms. 'White Bull' Gerold Hightower, 'Sword of the Morning' Arthur Dayne, Prince Lewyn Martell, Ser Oswell Whent... even you, Jaime Lannister—"
"But you stained your sword with the blood of the king you swore to protect and became a 'Kingslayer.'"
"But now, what filth and scum make up the Kingsguard!"
Barristan shouted, looking at them with contempt. "Worthless kingsguard, dirtier than the sewers of King's Landing! I am ashamed to be associated with you!"
With that, Barristan Selmy gave them one last disdainful look, turned, and walked away.
Cersei continued yelling, but Jaime bowed his head in silence.
Indeed, the title of the Kingsguard used to be
honourable.
Jaime had once been a part of it.
Back then, the world seemed so pure and beautiful, and everyone around him was as sharp and bright as a newly forged longsword. And now, they were all buried in graves.
What about him? Jaime pondered, when did the once spirited boy, the boy who aspired to be the greatest knight in the Seven Kingdoms, enter the grave? Was it when he slit "Mad King" Aerys's throat?
The boy who had grown up idolizing Arthur Dayne had somehow taken a different path in life and ended up becoming the Kingslayer.
Barristan's footsteps faded away, leaving behind a white cloak, white armour, and a white longsword—pure white like snow, like clouds, like an unsullied oath.
[END]