Feast for the Crows
The short bit of a Royal conversation
“She wanted to see if it would be as easy with a woman as it had always been with Robert. Ten thousand of your children perished in my palm, Your Grace, she thought, slipping a third finger into Myr. Whilst you snored, I would lick your sons off my face and fingers one by one, all those pale sticky princes. You claimed your rights, my lord, but in the darkness I would eat your heirs.”
~Cersei, A Feast for Crows, George R. R. Martin.
She looked stunning. Dark, maybe wine colored dress with glittery bits pressed to her skin, almost see thru at the top, low around the shoulders, gradually shading the outline of her vitals. The fabric met her body in perfect curves with gold glitters, all the way down just the right drop down to her legs. She wore an ankle chain on the left one. She was built to sin and I couldn’t help but stare at the cleavage.
What happened to Queen Cersei?
She came all smiles. Like she always knew she slooked stunning.
The night was without moon. There was a giant storm somewhere in the Indian Ocean and the rain blew all the way over here. The bad weather stayed for a whole weekend, taking with it the ugly fog and the grey cloud and for once in a long while, there were stars above the city. Like little dust, faint and distant but there against the contrast black of the night. But there was no moon. With make up on, a silvery dress and four inch heels, she looked the proper angel on pins.
“Cersei lives a long life. Longer than most others.” That was about all I could’ve said. She outlived most of other characters from Westeros.
“When was the last time you had sex?” I had to ask, wanting to change the subject. The war of five kings seemed too far removed.
What does it matter when I did, she asked back.
“I’m just curious. You asked when the last time I texted my ex.” I had that answer ready from before I was completely drunk. I checked my glass.
She sipped her drinks but recomposed herself fairly quickly, the eyes playing with glitter around the corner, smiling widely even if her lips were tight shut in an almost thin horizontal line. Gods know how I desired those lips and tasted blood from her mouth.
I think you like the idea of me being with another man. It turns you on so you wanna get me to admit to confirm dirty thoughts already in your head,
She said. This time she was staring at me. I blinked.
Do you think the rest of the city are having sex as much as we are?
She leaned on the balcony. Bending over wouldn’t be a too far off description, just not classy. I liked it when she was posing and she knew well I did. It’s like when you’re reminded to happy memories forever ago. Happy and very pornographic memories. Ones you thought you saw for the last time once already, too happy to see once more. I could’ve been blushing but the night had it well hidden.
I heard the city fucks someone every night. She must be very lucky.
The horizon stretches all the way to the night. Her voice came in echoes, like whispers from things no longer there. There was a great wide ocean of void somewhere between the last light and the bottom of the sky but she framed the middle bit perfect.
She smiled. Very pretty, too. She always was. If it wasn’t for that God would’ve made only men. You wouldn’t like that world.
I admitted, “No, I wouldn’t.”
We walked towards the exit, she in front of me, the shape I recognized so well. I almost felt bad. I want you stare at my ass. She whispered. The music was much louder but I heard it pretty clear.
“Of course. They’re my favourite.”
I need to lose some weight.
“No, you don’t.”
Jakarta, April 2014
