shiera waters speaking with her aunt, elissa westerling @faatedones early during the mourning feast
She stayed well clear of the wine. The poisoned wine had long been taken away, sent to the halls of Oldtown and distributed amongst maesters here to formulate a cure, or tipped in the river where it would endanger none but fish... but Shiera stayed clear of the wine regardless, where it glinted a pale gold upon the tables of the feast. She thought perhaps few did, with the memory of Cerion Lannister's procession stark in their minds yet. How strange, for someone like their Master of Laws, who had been a member of this small council for near as long as Shiera could remember, to be gone... and how. She had seen councillors change before, but few had been felled in an act such as this. He was the first one ill, she remembered from that night, well before she herself had been consumed by the fever. Poison, she thought, staring at the cup. Had she herself been so close to death under the grips of that fever? Had there been a true possibility for the strange visions and sights she had seen under those heat-dreams, to be her last sight in the world?
Movement by her elbow distracted her from the flutterings of nausea that seemed to follow her everywhere these past days. Somebody was attempting to look on, as the High Septa spoke. "Did you know him?" she asked, and only then realised it was her aunt she was speaking to.