Cercei's POV

I awoke on a serene Sunday morning, a sense of contentment permeating through my being. As the sun’s gentle rays caressed my face, a smile effortlessly etched itself on my lips. It was an unfamiliar sensation, this overwhelming enthusiasm upon waking up.

“Morning,” I greeted my mother with a tender kiss.

“Good morning, hon.”

“Morning, Auntie,” I acknowledged her briefly, stealing a delicious bite of her homemade waffle. A soft chuckle escaped her lips at my audacity.

“Mhmm,” I exclaimed appreciatively. The taste was divine, evident to her exceptional culinary skills that undoubtedly contributed to the resounding success of her café.

“You appear particularly lively today,” Mamà commented,...