The Return of the Hades

Slap

4

The impact sent a shock through Cersei, leaving her momentarily speechless. Her hand flew to her cheek, the sting of the slap mingling with her surprise. "What—what was that for?" Cersei sputtered, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Lavinia's hand was still raised, her chest heaving as she glared down at Cersei, who was clutching her reddened cheek in shock.

"Why did you do that?" Cersei demanded again, her voice quivering with a mixture of anger and confusion.

 Lavinia's eyes blazed with a fiery intensity, her voice steady and contemptuous. "You seem to have forgotten all that sir French has done for you over the years. Do you think you would be where you are today without his help?"

"What nonsense are you speaking? I achieved everything on my own merit," Cersei shot back defiantly. 

 Lavinia met her glare steadfastly. "You are blind, Cersei. Blind to the truth that's been before your eyes all along. Every so-called triumph you've boasted of, every victory you've celebrated... It was sir French who laid the groundwork. Without him, you'd be nothing."

Cersei's face contorted with indignation. How could a blind loser like Darien had helped her achieve success? She was the only one responsible of her success and no one else. 

 "Lies! Everything I have, I've earned. Darien was just... around." She vehemently declared.

"Oh, spare me the delusion," Lavinia retorted dismissively. "You've relied on his strength, his wits, even his money. And yet, you have the audacity to claim it as your own merit?" 

Cersei's eyes narrowed, a dangerous edge to her voice. "I don't have to listen to this—this nonsense from you. Who are you to accuse me?"

Lavinia laughed, a cold, mocking sound. "Who am I? I am someone who doesn't need to ride on the coattails of a man to feel accomplished, someone who doesn't need to pretend to be important. I see you, Cersei. I see the pettiness, the insecurity. And I don't have to waste another breath on someone so hopelessly entrenched in their own vanity."

With that, Lavinia turned to Darien, her expression softening. "Let's leave, sir French. There's nothing for us here."

She didn't have to waste her words on such a stupid and proud woman, so she took no joy in striking Cersei, only ridding herself of frustration at Cersei's willful ignorance.

Darien nodded, a hint of sorrow in his gaze as he looked at Cersei. "Lavinia is right. We have more important tasks ahead."

As they turned to leave, a sudden vision pierced Darien's thoughts, halting him in his tracks. Cersei, three days from now, clutching a golden apple—precious and powerful—only to be ambushed by an unknown assailant. Darien's heart raced; the golden apple had eluded his grasp despite his exhaustive searches.

Darien pondered, "I don't understand. How could Cersei have found the golden apple when I've been unable to locate it after all this time, despite utilizing all the resources of the Usati army and putting forth every effort?"

The fact that the golden apple had seemingly fallen into Cersei's hands by chance troubled him deeply. Darien knew better than to believe in mere chance.

"This could well be a trap specifically set for me," he muttered, his concern evident in his furrowed brow and troubled expression.

Compelled by his premonition, Darien turned back towards Cersei, his voice urgent as he tried to convey the gravity of the situation. "Cersei, listen to me. In three days' time, you will come into possession of a golden apple. This apple holds great power, and there are those who would stop at nothing to obtain it. You must be cautious."

Cersei's eyes flickered with a complex mix of emotions—surprise, confusion, and a hint of fear. "A golden apple? Are you trying to scare me with your cryptic warnings now?" She scoffed, her voice laced with sarcasm.

Darien's concern deepened, his voice resolute. "I assure you, Cersei, I speak the truth. Your life is in danger, whether you choose to believe it or not. I've seen the consequences of such arrogance before."

Cersei waved a hand flippantly. "Consequences? Arrogance? You talk as if you're some kind of prophet who can foretell the future. Maybe I should start calling you Darien the Seer. Give it a rest, will you?" Cersei scoffed, a tinge of disbelief coloring her words. 

Darien sighed, his patience tested, he realized that Cersei wasn't taking him seriously. "Fine, don't listen to me. But please, at least promise me you'll be cautious. Keep an eye on the rare herbs and don't covet things that don't belong to you. It's best not to get into conflict with people over such matters."

Cersei let out a melodious laugh that held no mirth. "I never knew you had such a vivid imagination, Darien. Perhaps you should pen a novel instead of meddling in my affairs."

Darien's gaze remained steady, though a flicker of frustration crossed his features. "I do not meddle, Cersei. I seek only to caution you against dangers that may lie ahead."

Cersei waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, spare me your melodrama. I have no need for your so-called warnings. I am quite capable of handling my own affairs." She said her expression defiant. "I won't live my life in fear just because of some ominous vision you had."

Darien's gaze hardened. "I do not doubt your abilities, Cersei, but this is not a matter to be taken lightly. Lives may be at stake. I implore you to stay vigilant."

Darien's thoughts churned, his concern for Cersei warring with her stubborn refusal to listen. He knew he could have his subordinates keep a watchful eye on her, and at the same time, he could monitor Cersei's company. After that, he could get information about the future by observing the fate of these minions.

As Darien turned to leave, Cersei's pride wouldn't allow her to simply accept his words. "Wait, Darien! Before you go, there's something you need to address." 

Darien raised an eyebrow, his patience wearing thin. "What now, Cersei?"

"I demand an apology from your accomplice, this bitch. She slapped me without cause and accused me of relying on others for my success. Unacceptable!" Cersei's tone dripped with indignation.