Read more chapters of this story on my Patreon!

A Place in Her Service

The days following Ser Damon's induction into Queen Cersei's service would prove uneventful. Though, that was what the bastard knight expected. Winning the heart of the Lioness of Lannister was not a feat that could be accomplished in short order. No, Damon knew that such a task would take some time.

In the meanwhile, the daring stormlander settled into his new life as the queen's sworn shield. This came with new clothing and armor, as the queen wished to see her men-at-arms garbed in the proud colors of her own house. Lannister gold on red. An odd feeling Damon had wearing them, being the blood of Dondarrion. But the colors suited him well enough if they got him that much closer to the queen's bed.

Another boon that came with being a queen's man was the salary. For the first time in years, Ser Damon had himself a steady stream of coin. He had only been in King's Landing for a week and he was already gaining back the money he spent on food, on drink, and on women.

The light of the seven, it seemed, was shining on Ser Damon. Though the hedge knight was not a praying man, he couldn't help but think that perhaps there was some benevolent force guiding him towards such good fortune. It was a comforting thought amidst the blood and horror of this recent war.

So when the queen finally summoned Ser Damon to her solar, he hoped that the gods would continue to guide him true.

Admittedly, the young knight felt a rush of sensation though his body as he climbed the steps of the staircase, with excitement and nervousness intermingling. He had to wonder… Was the queen so brazen as to take a bastard as a lover? Was she so brazen as to take him to bed at midday?

It was the second thought that gave Damon pause. It was as unlikely as it was unwise. If the queen were to take a lover, surely she would be discreet about it. The lioness would have him visit in the dead of night if she would have him visit her at all. More than likely, she only wanted to speak with him.

Ser Damon stood before the door to the queen's solar then, opposite to the queensguard Ser Balon Swann and Ser Arys Oakheart. He nodded at the two men in shining white armor.

"Ser Damon Storm." He introduced himself. "The queen summoned me, I've been told."

The two queensguard said nothing but nodded in turn. Ser Arys opened the door, motioning for Damon to enter. And so Damon did.

The royal solar was big and spacious, likely larger than a peasant's entire home. Directly ahead of him was an open balcony bathed in warm sunlight. To his right sat the queen's four-poster bed, holding an enormous featherbed covered in thick, crimson blankets. Hanging from the wooden canopy were sheer, silken drapes, the delicate red fabric turning almost pink in the glow of daylight.

On the bed sat a beautiful woman. But this woman was not Queen Cersei.

The woman was shapely in a delightful way, with Damon's eyes immediately drawn to her bosom - or rather the way her bosom seemed close to bursting from her dress. Garbed in white silk she was, the bright fabric a striking sight against her smooth, olive skin. Not Westerosi, nor Dornish. The woman, Damon knew, was a foreigner.

Damon's eyes trailed upward to take in the beauty of her face. Her lips, full and plump, were curled into a sultry smile while her dark eyes drank in Damon as he had done to her. Her hair, a mane of black curls, tumbled down past her shoulders. Damon imagined running his hands through those soft, wavy locks.

The strange, beautiful woman stood from the bed then. Damon could see the way her dress hugged her body, the white silk clinging to her wonderfully wide hips.

"He is here, your grace." The woman spoke in a low, smooth voice, her words sweetened by her foreign accent. She was Myrish, to the best Ser Damon could tell. Then the dusky woman sat back onto the featherbed, her eyes never leaving him.

Damon found his vision blessed with a new sight as the queen entered the solar from the open balcony. She was a vision of royal beauty wreathed in golden sunlight. Her dress was a long and flowing gown of dark velvet, Lannister red with gold trimmings, that wrapped around her body like a robe. Her golden hair was free and loose, falling down her back and shoulders in shimmering waves.

"Thank you, Lady Taena." Said the queen, giving the olive-skinned woman a small smile. Then the Lioness of Lannister turned her eyes on Ser Damon.

"My queen." The Bastard of Blackhaven bowed his head as the blonde approached him. Then he lifted his head high and put some steel in his spine, his back going straight as a spear. A proud stance for his proud queen.

"Ser Damon." Queen Cersei greeted him. His own name sounded lovely upon her lips, the knight decided. He would henceforth find more reasons for her to speak it. The golden-haired royal clasped her small, pale hands in front of her, smiling up at the taller man. "You've served me well in these few days as my sworn shield."

"You are kind to say so, your grace." Ser Damon said.

The queen pressed her full lips into a line. The look on her fair, flawless face was one of consideration, contemplation. Her eyes were on him, but they did not really see him. It was clear that the woman was lost in thought. Queen Cersei then shared a quick glance with Lady Taena.

"I have experienced great fortune during these recent days." Said the queen, turning her bright emerald eyes back onto Ser Damon. Those pools of green had a heat to them, burning with passion like wildfire. "The enemies of the crown blunder themselves into ruin and death with shocking regularity. But these moments of favor from the gods will never soothe the pain of the losses I have suffered."

On silent feet, the queen brushed past Ser Damon and sat beside Lady Taena on the featherbed. The Myrish woman wrapped her arms around Cersei's shoulders, drawing the blonde closer to her. The foreign lady's full breasts were pressed flush to the queen's shoulder. It was a captivating sight. But Ser Damon still had enough good sense to speak.

"Few things in this world can allay a mother's sorrow. Or a daughter's." Damon spoke softly, respectfully and with downturned eyes. He did not know King Joffrey or Lord Tywin, but they were the queen's own blood.

The queen said nothing for a long moment, staring at Damon with thoughtful eyes. Meanwhile, the dusky Lady Taena rested her chin upon Cersei's shoulder, their cheeks brushing together. It was a most curious thing to see the queen so close and affectionate with another woman. Ser Damon found no reason to complain. He'd had the pleasure of watching beautiful women enjoy each other's company before. Seven hells, he'd even paid for it. Perhaps entering into Queen Cersei's service was an even better idea than the man previously thought.

"I find myself in need of your sword, rather than your shield, Ser Damon." Queen Cersei finally said. Beside her, Lady Taena gave the knight a little, knowing smile.

I come to the capital to charm my way into the queen's bed… But it seems this foreign harlot has gotten there first. Perhaps she would be willing to enjoy my company as well…

But Ser Damon knew that before that could even be a possibility, he would need to establish himself as a true queen's man. The knight knelt then, dropping to one knee before the eyes of the two women before him.

"I am at your command, my queen." Damon declared with summoned conviction. For a moment he felt like an honest and noble knight rather than a lecher driven by his baser desires. "What is it that you need of me?"

The queen seemed pleased by his words. A small smile played upon her lips and her eyes appeared to glow with zeal. So too did the satisfaction reach Lady Taena, the darker woman's smile spreading wide and revealing her straight, white teeth.

"There is a singer." The queen began, breathing through her slender nose. "A man who plies his trade on the Street of Sisters. I've been told his voice is sweet and smooth as honey. But the words he sings are but lies and filth."

"This man speaks treasons and falsehoods against our queen." Lady Taena added, though Ser Damon caught that the Myrish beauty stressed the word 'our'. Her dark eyes were set upon the bastard knight and he saw her desire clear as water. "Every day he stands before a crowd and sullies the name of her grace, the Lioness of Lannister."

The queen's face tightened, her eyes growing hard. Then she was on her feet once more, standing over her new sworn shield. Her lips twisted into a venomous scowl and her voice came with barely contained fury.

"This cretin minstrel disparages my son, my lord father, my entire family. They haven't been buried for a year and this man thinks to sing and dance to falsehoods over their graves. He even furthers the disgusting rumors about my brother and I."

Ser Damon understood then what the Lioness Queen wanted of him. This wasn't simply a task to be carried out. This was her test, a trial to see if he was a man that the crown could trust… And if he was a man worthy of the crown's attention.

The Bastard of Dondarrion rose to his feet, standing tall, ready, and willing. He had known King's Landing would be a city of opportunity. But he had known just as well that seizing opportunity wouldn't be without blood. This singer had made a grave mistake. And his foolishness would serve Ser Damon's rise. Such was the way of the Seven Kingdoms.

"You want him silenced?" Ser Damon asked, already knowing the queen's answer.

"I want him dead." Cersei hissed, looking up at the taller knight with blazing eyes. "After everything I have endured and suffered, I will not tolerate such vile treason."

So there it was, the cold, blunt truth laid out before him. Ser Damon would kill a man and gain the golden queen's favor. Blood and cold steel in exchange for the warmth of a woman's bed and the softness of her touch. Damon appreciated the simplicity of it.

Men have killed - and died - for less. A tight, wet cunt is as good a reason to take up arms as any.

"My sword is yours." Ser Damon gripped the hilt of his sheathed longsword as if to make his point. "This man will not live to see the morrow."

Then there came the sound of the Myrish beauty cooing in delight. The dusky woman was still seated on the queen's own bed, toying with a lock of her dark hair.

"Such unwavering loyalty." Lady Taena praised him, her voice so sweet and musical. "If only all men were as true and brave as Ser Damon, your grace."

"If only." The queen agreed. She kept her gaze fixed on the bastard knight, her eyes softening some. "I trust that you can act with discretion?"

"I can. What does this singer look like, your grace?" Ser Damon inquired.

Cersei turned to Lady Taena and the Myrish noblewoman was on her feet as well. She stepped up to Ser Damon, standing close beside her queen.

"He is a Lyseni singer, tall and slender with silver hair. Valyrian stock." Lady Taena began. "His name is Johono Jaar and he always garbs himself in silk and velvet and sweet perfume. He delights in the adoration of his crowds. You will not mistake him for any other man."

Johono Jaar. The name of the man I will end to join the queen in bed. I bless the poor fool for his sacrifice.

"Find this traitor and make an end, Ser Damon. I charge you with this task." Queen Cersei grabbed Ser Damon's free hand, brought it up to her lips, and kissed it. Such a soft and delicate touch had the man yearning for more. "Do this for your queen and you will have earned your place in my service. And you will find that I can be sweeter to you than any woman living."

Ser Damon breathed in deep. He clenched his jaw.

"It will be done, your grace." He boomed. "This I promise you."