It was the day before the wedding. Dany felt nervous already as she rode through the gates of the Red Keep for the third time. Cersei's household had set up the tables and benches for the feast and were just about to start on the decorations when she entered. Cersei strode toward her immediately and welcomed Dany and her guards, of whom Cersei had two of her own following her. "I hope the setup is to your liking", she said with a smile. Dany returned the gesture. "You have done beautifully." They walked underneath a bough of roses and goldenrod being erected across the aisle. Dany made a remark about the elegant beeswax candles that were spread in even distances across the table, they were eight inches tall and decorated in spun gold and holly leaves. Cersei pointed out the carvings on the two large armchairs in the center of the dais reserved for the two brides, the tops were made to look like a lion and a three-headed dragon respectively. It was meaningless chatter, they both knew, a courtesy they had to uphold like all the others. And yet Dany felt like something had changed in the queen's voice, her kindness seemed somewhat more sincere. It might have been wishful thinking, or simply Cersei being good at pretending. Still, the ambience between them appeared more lively today. 

Suddenly, a new thought seemed to come to the older woman. "Have you even seen the sept yet?", she asked Dany, who denied with a shake of her head. The only parts of King's Landing she had seen had been at her arrival and on her visits to the Red Keep, there were no other buildings she had been to. "I must show you, then", Cersei said and took her by the arm. "It shouldn't be your first time entering it on the morrow." They exited through the king's door in the back of the hall, following a private hallway reserved for those directly related to or in immediate service to Cersei. Near the end of the hallway, a small door led to the courtyard, which they crossed to get to the stables. Cersei turned to one of her guards and instructed him to bring her litter. Shortly after, two riders came forth with the cabin between them. Cersei and Daenerys climbed in and closed the curtains. They rode in silence, but Dany was still bewildered by Cersei's change of attitude. Before, she had seemed to want to spend as little time as possible in one room with her, and now she was offering to show her parts of the city, which she could have just as well set someone else to do. Was this some elaborate scheme to gain her trust, or was Cersei truly warming up to her? When they arrived at the sept, their guards were making moves to follow them, but Cersei said: "Leave us." Dany's guards looked at her uncertainly, and after contemplating it for a moment, she nodded at them to dismiss them too. She wondered what the reason for Cersei's wish for privacy was. 

Inside the sept the air was cool. Colorful light was shining in through the crystal windows and reflecting off of the polished marble, flooding the entire interior in rainbows. Seven massive statues encircled the room. "I assume you are familiar with the Seven?", Cersei asked. "Mostly", Dany replied. "I know there are the Mother, the Father, the Warrior, the Smith, the Maiden, the Crone and the Stranger, but I admit I do not know all their correspondences." "The Mother protects our children first and foremost. Well, she's supposed to anyways. That didn't keep my son from dying..." She fell into silence. Dany felt she ought to say something. "I'm sorry. I know what that feels like, I have lost a son too." Cersei didn't reply, but seemed to appreciate the comfort nonetheless. "What about the other gods?", Dany asked to take her mind off the matter. "The Father, much like the Mother, watches over us all and, just like a father, judges us. The Warrior gives strength in battle, the Smith to our blades. The Crone guides us and provides wisdom, and the Maiden stands for beauty and purity, leading us into marriage from our maidenhood to adulthood." Dany could certainly tell a tale or two about that part of her life - and so, it seemed, did Cersei, judging by the look on her face. "When I was married to Khal Drogo", Dany began, "I wanted nothing so much as to flee from it all. But my brother... he frightened me, so I did not dare. I sat through it, feeling miserable, and by the time we were on our way to Vaes Dothrak, the sacred city, I found that I had come to love him. So much so, that I was willing to give anything to save him when he was wounded in battle, but I was tricked... I lost him and my unborn child, and I still think of them, though not with such grief as once." Cersei smiled in reminiscence. "For me it was the opposite. When I learned I was to marry Robert, I was thrilled. And I did love him, at first. But he never loved me, he proved as much on our wedding night. When we were making our son - not Joffrey, another, who never lived to see the light of day - he was on top of me, and what do you think he whispered in my ear? Lyanna. She was the only one he ever wanted." Daenerys did not know what to say to that, but luckily, Cersei relieved her of that. "You said you were tricked? By whom?" "Her name was Mirri Maz Duur. She was a maegi, who resented me for what the Dothraki did to her and her people." Cersei's face dropped at the mention of the word maegi. "What is it?", Daenerys asked. "When I was a child... There was a maegi in Lannisport who told me my future. What she said haunts me to this day." 

The sun already hung low in the sky, and it was time for the two women to return to the Red Keep. In the litter, Cersei said: "You know, I've never told anyone about the maegi before. Only my friend who was with me knew, and she is long gone. But I think we might have more in common than we knew." She smiled at her. It wasn't until that moment that Dany realized how much of her life she had bared to Cersei that day. She hadn't meant to, but the queen was right: their experiences, their sufferings, they were very similar indeed. Perhaps they shared more than just their longing for the throne, and perhaps that could make them something other than enemies.