Day 601
CERSEI（一）
On the last night of her imprisonment, the queen could not sleep. Each time she clod her eyes, her head filled with forebodings and fantasies of the morrow. I will have guards, she told herlf. They will keep the crowds away. No one will be allowed to touch me. The High Sparrow had promid her that much.
Even so, she was afraid. On the day Myrcella sailed for Dorne, the day of the bread riots, gold cloaks had been posted all along the route of the procession, but the mob had broken through their lines to tear the old fat High Septon into pieces and rape Lollys Stokeworth half a hundred times. And if that pale soft stupid creature could incite the animals when fully clothed, how much more lust would a queen inspire?
Ceri paced her cell, restless as the caged lions that had lived in the bowels of Casterly Rock when she was a girl, a legacy of her grandfather’s time. She and Jaime ud to dare each other to climb into their cage, and once she worked up enough courage to slip her hand between two bars and touch one of the great tawny beasts. She was always bolder than her brother. The lion had turned his head to star感恩信300字
e at her with huge golden eyes. Then he licked her fingers. His tongue was as rough as a rasp, but even so she would not pull her hand back, not until
phpyunJaime took her by the shoulders and yanked her away from the cage.
“Your turn,” she told him afterward. “Pull his mane, I dare you.” He never did. I should have had the sword, not him.
Barefoot and shivering she paced, a thin blanket draped about her shoulders. She was anxious for the day to come. By evening it would all be done. A little walk and I’ll be home, I’ll be back with Tommen, in my own chambers inside Maegor’s Holdfast. Her uncle said it was the only way to save herlf. Was it, though? She could not trust her uncle, no more than she trusted this High Septon. I could still refu. I could still insist upon my innocence and hazard all upon a trial.
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But she dare not let the Faith sit in judgment on her, as that Margaery Tyrell meant to do. That might rve the little ro well enough, but Ceri had few friends amongst the ptas and sparrows around this new High Septon. Her only hope was trial by battle, and for that she must needs have a champion.
If Jaime had not lost his hand …
That road led nowhere, though. Jaime’s sword hand was gone, and so was he, vanished with the woman Brienne somewhere in the riverlands. The queen had to find another defender or today’s ordeal would be the least of her travails. Her
地球妈妈enemies were accusing her of treason. She had to reach Tommen, no matter the costs. He loves me. He will not refu his own mother. Joff was stubborn and unpredictable, but Tommen is a good little boy, a good little king. He will do as he is told. If she stayed here, she was doomed, and the only way she would return to the Red Keep was by walking. The High Sparrow had been adamant, and Ser Kevan refud to lift a finger against him.
“No harm will come to me today,” Ceri said when the day’s first light brushed her window. “Only my pride will suffer.” The words rang hollow in her ears. Jaime may yet come. She pictured him riding through the morning mists, his golden armor bright in the light of the rising sun. Jaime, if you ever loved me …
When her gaolers came for her, Septa Unella, Septa Moelle, and Septa Scolera led the procession. With them were four novices and two of the silent sisters. The sight of the silent sisters in their grey robes filled the queen with sudden terrors. Why are they here? Am I to die? The silent sisters at tended to the dead. “The High Septon promid that no harm would come to me.”
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“Nor will it.” Septa Unella beckoned to the novices. They brought lye soap, a basin of warm water, a pair of shears, and a long straightrazor. The sight of the steel nt a shiver through her. They mean to shave me. A little more humiliation, a raisin for my porridge. She would not give them the pleasure of hearing her beg. I am Ceri
of Hou Lannister, a lion of the Rock, the rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms, trueborn da ughter of Tywin Lannister. And hair grows back. “Get on with it,” she said.
The elder of the two silent sisters took up the shears. A practiced barber, no doubt; her order often cleaned the corps of the noble slain before returning them to their kin, and trimming beards and cutting hair was part of that. The woman bared the quee n’s head first. Ceri sat as still as a stone statue as the shears clicked. Drifts of golden hair fell to the floor. She had not been allowed to tend it properly penned up in this cell, but even unwashed and tangled it shone where the sun touched it. My crown, the queen thought. They took the other crown away from me, and now they are stealing this one as well. When her locks and curls were piled up around her feet, one of the novices soaped her head and the silent sister scraped away the stubble with a razor.
Ceri hoped that would be the end of it, but no. “Remove your shift, Your Grace,” Septa Unella commanded.
“Here?” the queen asked. “Why?”
“You must be shorn.”
Shorn, she thought, like a sheep. She yanked the shift over her head and tosd it to t he floor. “Do what you will.”
Then it was the soap again, the warm water, and the razor. The hair beneath her arms went next, then her legs, and last of all the fine golden down that covered her mound. When the silent sister crept between her legs with the razor, Ceri found herlf remembering all the times that Jaime had knelt where she was kneeling now, planting kiss on the inside of her thighs, making her wet. His kiss were always warm. The razor was ice-cold.
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我有一只小毛驴When the deed was done she was as naked and vulnerable as a woman could be. Not even a hair to hide behind. A little laugh burst from her lips, bleak and bitter.
温水擦浴“Does Your Grace find this amusing?” said Septa Scolera. “No, pta,” said Ceri. But one day I will have your tongue ripped out with hot pincers, and that will be hilarious.
One of the novices had brought a robe for her, a soft white pta’s robe to cover her as she made he
r way down the tower steps and through the pt, so any worshipers they met along the way might be spared the sight of naked flesh. Seven save us all, what hypocrites they are. “Will I be permitted a pair of sandals?” she asked. “The streets are filthy.”
