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The two girls walked with their eyes cast down, their silence deafening despite the chatter and noise of Lannisport. They had left the tent hurriedly, and quickly put their distance between themselves and what had happened within.
Melara broke first.
‘If we shan’t speak of it, we shall forget it. Forgotten prophecies can’t come true. That’s how prophecies work.’ Cersei frowned but kept her pace as Melara rambled. ‘The old crone wasn’t even a witch, not truly. She was probably just trying to scare us. She said my death was near, but that can’t be true. I’m not even flowered yet, if anyone’s death is near, it’s hers. How old do you think she was?’
‘I have a thirst,’ stated Cersei, ignoring the other girl and her fretting. The sun was setting over Casterly Rock and the crowds were dissipating as they crossed towards the well. They sat, and drank, resuming their silence.
‘It’s late,’ muttered Melara eventually, staring at her feet. ‘Father will be wondering where I am.’ She turned to leave, but Cersei grabbed her arm, her knuckles white.
‘Look! Down there!’ she gasped. ‘There’s something moving in the well!’
‘Where? I can’t see anything’ said Melara, squinting.
‘Look closer, stupid. There, beneath the surface!’
Melara leaned over the well’s low stone wall, peering down into the depths, the water still and black.
All it took was a push. It was so sudden she didn’t have time to grab Cersei as she fell over the edge, her arms flailing, clutching at thin air. The scream was swallowed by the splash as she hit the water with a smack. Spluttering, her head briefly bobbed above the water, coughing, her cries brief but piercing before promptly being submerged as the weight of her cloak tugged and pulled. Emerging once more, drawing as much breath into her lungs as she could, Melara screamed up at the other girl.
‘HELP! GET HELP! HELP ME, CERSEI!’
Cersei gazed at her friend’s frenzied limbs splashing wildly for a moment, and grimaced. Thank the gods fat Jeyne Farman had fled the tent in fear, she thought, hurrying from the sound of Melara’s now feeble splashing. She would have been a lot harder to push.