Cercei’s POV

“Sophia—” I began to express my concerns, my voice filled with worry.

“Please, Cercei, they’re going to hold me responsible,” she groaned in anguish, and I futilely grasped her arms, seeking to offer some form of comfort.

“Okay, fine,” I blurted out in a state of panic, my worry for her well-being overriding any rational thought. I couldn’t bear to see her suffer, so I reluctantly agreed.

Before she could even utter a word of gratitude, Sophia collapsed. My hands trembled as I glanced around, dismayed by the apathy surrounding us. The kitchen remained abuzz with servants bustling in and out, preoccupied with their tasks of fetching and...