[King's Landing - Red Keep]

Cersei sat on the Iron Throne, her fingers drumming against the cold steel. Euron stood beside her, his grin sharp and unreadable. The court watched in silence, their unease thick in the air. Euron's laughter echoed through the hall, a sound that made even the most hardened lords shift uncomfortably. He leaned in close to Cersei, his voice low but carrying. "You should've seen their faces when the flames took their ships. Like children watching their toys burn."

Cersei's lips curled into a faint smile, but her eyes remained cold. She saw the way the court looked at him—like a storm they couldn't predict. Euron was chaos wrapped in charm, and she knew it. But chaos had its uses. "You've done well," she said, her tone measured. "But don't mistake my gratitude for trust."

Euron's grin widened. "Trust is for fools, my queen. I prefer loyalty bought with fear." He turned to the court, his gaze sweeping over them like a predator sizing up prey. "And fear, I can provide."

The room seemed to shrink under his presence. Lords exchanged glances but said nothing. They knew better than to challenge him openly. Yet, whispers began to spread in the shadows. Euron's unpredictability was a weapon, but it was also a liability. Even Cersei couldn't control him entirely.

Later, in the privacy of her chambers, Cersei poured herself a glass of wine. Euron lounged nearby, his boots propped on the table. "You're not like the others," he said, watching her. "Most people crumble under pressure. But you? You thrive on it."

Cersei sipped her wine, her expression unreadable. "Pressure is what separates the strong from the weak. And I have no intention of being weak."

Euron leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. "Then let's give them something to fear. Together."

She met his gaze, her mind racing. Euron was dangerous, but so was she. Together, they could crush their enemies. But she also knew that alliances built on fear were fragile. One misstep, and it could all come crashing down.

He leaned forward, his voice low and teasing. "You know, my queen, a king and queen should share more than just a throne. We could rule the world together. Properly."

She met his gaze, her green eyes cold and calculating. "The world is already ours to take. I don't need distractions." Her tone was firm, but there was a flicker of something beneath it—unease, perhaps, or irritation. Euron's presence was like a storm, unpredictable and dangerous. She couldn't afford to let him too close. Not yet.

Euron leaned back, his grin widening. "Distractions? Is that what I am? I burned half of the Dragon Queen's fleet for you. I'd say I'm more than a distraction." His voice carried a mocking edge, but there was a challenge in his eyes. He wanted her to acknowledge him, to give him something more than just her cold indifference.

Cersei's jaw tightened. She knew what he wanted. Power. Recognition. Her. But she wasn't ready to give him any of it. Not until she was sure she could control him. "You've done well," she said finally, her voice clipped. ""Daenerys still has dragons. And allies. Your little fire show at sea won't stop her for long."

Euron leaned back, his grin widening. "Fire shows are just the beginning. I've got more surprises in store. For her. For you." His gaze lingered on her, and she felt the weight of it, like a predator sizing up its prey. She didn't flinch. She never did. But the tension between them was growing, a dangerous game of push and pull. He wanted her attention. Her approval. Her. And the more she denied him, the more he seemed to crave it.

"We need to be ready."

Euron's grin faltered for a moment, replaced by a flicker of annoyance. He didn't like being dismissed. But then it was back, sharper than ever. "Oh, I'll be ready. But don't think I'll wait forever, Cersei. Even a king has his limits. Am I not worthy of your attention?"

"You'll have my attention when you've earned it," she replied coldly. "Burning a few ships doesn't make you indispensable."

Euron's grin widened, but there was a flicker of something darker in his eyes. He leaned back, his fingers tracing the edge of his dagger. "Indispensable? No. But I'm the only one who can give you what you need. Ships. Men. Chaos." He paused, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And I'm the only one who understands what you truly want."

Cersei's jaw tightened. She hated how he seemed to see through her, how his words cut closer to the truth than she cared to admit. She wanted power, yes, but more than that, she wanted to crush her enemies—to see them broken and begging before her. Euron knew that. And he reveled in it.

The court watched in silence, their unease palpable. They had seen what Euron was capable of, the way he moved through the world like a force of nature, leaving destruction in his wake. He was unpredictable, dangerous, and utterly without remorse. And yet, he was their best hope against Daenerys Targaryen and her dragons. That was the cruel irony of it all.

The members of the court shifted uncomfortably, their eyes darting between the two. No one dared to speak. They all knew better than to get involved in whatever game was being played between the queen and her soon to be husband.

Later, in the privacy of her chambers, Cersei poured herself a glass of wine. She stared out the window at the city below, her mind racing. Euron was a wildcard, and she hated wildcards. But he was useful. For now. She took a long sip, the bitterness of the wine matching the bitterness in her thoughts.

Euron, meanwhile, prowled the halls of the Red Keep like a caged animal. He hated the court, the politics, the endless scheming. He wanted action. Chaos. He wanted Cersei. But she was always just out of reach, always one step ahead. It infuriated him. And yet, it intrigued him. She was a challenge, and he loved challenges. 

Cersei's fingers trembled as she held the parchment. The words burned into her mind, each letter a dagger twisting deeper. I wanted you to know it was me. The thorned rose with its crown mocked her, its elegance a cruel contrast to the chaos it unleashed. Her breath hitched. All this time, she had been wrong. Tyrion. Sansa. The Imp and the little wolf. They were pawns, distractions. She had built her rage on that certainty, let it fuel her every move. And now... this. The real enemy had been smiling at her from across the room, sipping wine with a wit as sharp as the thorns she bore.

Her chest tightened. The room felt smaller, the walls closing in. She could still hear Joffrey's choked gasps, see his purple face, his small hands clawing at his throat. Her son. Her firstborn. And Olenna Tyrell had taken him from her. Not with a sword or a dagger, but with poison. A coward's weapon. A woman's weapon. The irony wasn't lost on her. She had always prided herself on playing the game better than anyone, but Olenna had outmaneuvered her. Outsmarted her. The thought was unbearable.

Cersei's jaw clenched. Her nails dug into her palms, leaving crescent marks. She wanted to scream, to tear the letter to shreds, to burn Highgarden to the ground.

Olenna had chosen this moment to reveal herself, to gloat. Why now? What did she gain from this confession? The questions gnawed at her. Was it a taunt? A warning? Or simply the satisfaction of knowing she had won, even if only for a moment?

Her mind raced. Margaery. The Tyrell girl had been Joffrey's queen, his bride. Had she known? Had she been part of it? Cersei's lips curled into a snarl. The Tyrells had always been too clever, too ambitious. They had wormed their way into her family, into her home, and now they had taken her son. She would make them pay. Every last one of them. Olenna had struck first, but Cersei would strike last.

Jaime would return soon... after he had stolen their food, gold, and their lives.

The letter slipped from her fingers, fluttering to the floor. She stared at it, the thorned rose glaring up at her. A part of her wanted to laugh. All her life, she had been told she was too emotional, too reckless. But now, her rage was a weapon. It would guide her, fuel her. Olenna had made a mistake. She had underestimated Cersei. And that would be her downfall.

Cersei's gaze fell to the hearth, the flames dancing mockingly. She had been so sure. So certain. And now... now she had to face the truth. Her enemies were closer than she had ever imagined. And they were laughing at her.

She would make them pay. All of them. No matter the cost.