Her hair, the golden banner of House Lannister, had been shorn to a patchy stubble. The sun, breaking through the clouds, seemed to mock the bald, mottled skin of her scalp. She was not a queen. She was not a lion. She was a plucked bird, pale and thin and utterly, terrifyingly breakable.
“My lioness.”
Then, through the noise, she heard a different voice. Low. Familiar. A whisper from the shadows of a shopfront. cersei shame episode