flashes of lannister traits don’t often bring good tidings - at least not anymore. but shireen’d like to think that despite myrcella’s other familial bonds, that despite whatever feelings she herself has about one cersei lannister . . . she can still enjoy the warmth of her cousin’s gaze. “ ‘cella !! ” she calls from her perch at the bar, dark eyes scouting out the world around her now focused on a familiar, friendly face. “ come have a drink with me, won’t you? ” she hasn’t been much for gambling, and if she’s going to dump money into margaery tyrell’s foundation she’d rather get something from it . . . a night of drunken enjoyment that leads to a hangover in the morning was better than losing countless coins at blackjack. “ something fruity, maybe? pink and pretty like a - oh, i’ve got it! ” twisting back in her seat to face the tender behind the bar, shireen holds up two fingers, grinning wildly. “ two french martinis! ” @ofgoldstag
