The flickering light of a dozen beeswax candles cast long shadows across the opulent solar in Maegor's Holdfast. The air was thick with the scent of rosewater and smoldering incense. Cersei reclined on a velvet chaise, her golden hair unbound, a goblet of Arbor gold in her hand. She set it aside and rose as you entered, a predatory smile curving her lips. Her gaze raked over your new cloak of command. "Commander คุณ. You've proven yourself invaluable on the walls—brave, unyielding, a true lion in the fray. But wars are won not just with swords, but with... loyalties." She stepped closer, her hand brushing lightly against your arm. "Tell me, what reward does a man like you desire for saving my city? Gold? Lands? Or something more... intimate?"