Cersei Lannister Wine Goblet Novels & Stories

"She dropped a goblet while crying out." He hesitates very briefly before reaching one of the nearby counters. "This is the goblet, your Grace." My heartbeat slows strangely as he carefully lifts a golden up into view. Cold realization washes through me the moment my eyes land on it. It is the exact goblet I drank from earlier tonight. The very same one. I slowly take it from him. The golden surface reflects light beautifully despite the terror now attached to the goblet, and there is still a small amount of crimson wine settled at the bottom.

His voice was so hoarse that it made my ears sting, "I wondered why that thing didn't scoop out your heart. Turns out, your blood was the best shield..." …… I woke up drenched in sweat, back in my bed. It was a week before the Haunts world descended. The gold bar from last night's burial was still heavy in my pocket.

Hearing it spoken in the open air above the Atlantic gave it a different quality. Permanent was the word she kept arriving at. Not ending. Permanent. The crown of the Vael bloodline was a physical object smaller than she'd expected, old metal worn smooth by time, carrying nothing theatrical. Seren placed it on Caspian's head with the precise care of someone who had done this for three hundred years and understood that the object was less significant than the moment. He became, in that moment, what he had been becoming for a very long time. She watched it happen.

- I came to talk. “I understand,” the man raised his eyebrows slightly mockingly. - Will you? He pointed to the jug, and the girl nodded. Aznar stood up, deftly cut off the cork with a paper cutter, and poured the wine into a goblet. Larana froze: the man was so close that she could smell him. So familiar, maddening, with notes of bitterness and freshness. He handed her the glass, and she took it carefully, flinching slightly as their fingers touched.

And then I see it. In the corner of the room, half-hidden behind a fallen chair, is a heavy silver goblet, ornate, thick and solid. It must’ve rolled from one of the tables after the coronation preparations. My heart pounds, but my breathing steadies. My movement must be silent. Unnoticed. Calculated. Zeus continues speaking, his voice dripping with venom. “You stole my future, Darian,” he says. “You stole everything I was meant to be. And now I’ll take it back. Starting with your life, unless you all kneel right now and acknowledge me as-”

She dropped to her knees directly in front of Lysander, raising the golden tray with hands that trembled so heavily the wine sloshed against the rim. ​"Your... Your Majesty," Sorela’s voice was incredibly thin, completely saturated with absolute terror. "The ceremonial wine to honor the festival tonight." ​Lysander released his hold on my thigh, reaching out his massive right hand to take the golden goblet with the arrogant, untouchable confidence of a monarch who believed no creature alive could ever harm him. ​My heart hammered wildly against my ribs. In my eyes, time slowed down to an absolute crawl.

I'm ready," Clara told him. Skyler took her hand and led her to the altar where Cressida was standing and made her stand in front of a table, covered in white tablecloths, two golden goblets, a plain bowl and a knife were placed on top of it. The goblets feature four regal wolve's heads adorning the cup on a red background, the medieval motif detailing carried metallic shades and green gems embedded into the cups stem. Clara didn't find it as strange as she found it the first time. Right now she admired the beauty of the goblet and the craft.

When his lips touched my skin, he only left fleeting kisses there, and whispered softly to me, his breath; intoxicating "Open your eyes." I was groggy for a full second; already leaning into his chest, getting drunk in his scent. Then... My eyes snapped open, shifting into focus. The junior priest was bringing something that he should not be bringing. Another golden platter. Another Goblet of the Cursed wine. My eyes widened involuntarily, thus trying and failing to keep myself calm. I had barely gotten back my composure when Sebestian winked at me. A subtle one, like it was never there; Yet it was a silent trigger to all my biological alarms.

Lycarus whispered to my ears, blowing the sensitive skin to my neck, I nod. He smiles devilishly as he grab a golden goblet and gave it to me, "You just have to drink this to have what you desired." I look at the liquid that's in the goblet, it's golden in color, not the red one that's Xian's pertaining, I let out a deep sigh, this may not be that bad. Bringing the goblet to my lips, drinking the liquid, an awful like copper taste filled my taste buds as it flows down my body and I fall to my knees and jolt of pain shoot to my stomach up to my throat.

The fallen goblet was examined immediately. The wine. Poisoned. My stomach dropped. The healer pointed toward the tray. "Where did this come from?" A frightened servant answered. "T-the royal table." Silence. Cold. Instant. The healer lifted the goblet. Examined the crest engraved into the silver. Then his expression changed. My pulse stopped. Because I recognized that crest. It belonged to my assigned place. My table. My wine. The hall slowly turned toward me. Hundreds of eyes. Suspicion spreads faster than fear.