Cersei does not see Maggy the Frog that night, as she had so wished.
She and Jeyne have nearly tracked down the woodswitch, she is sure of it when Red-Cloaks of Casterly Rock start to descend on the Tourney grounds. They are not the Yellow Cloaks of the City of Lannisport. She pays them a fleeting glance before she urges Fat-Jeyne to hurry. Gods Melara should have come with us. She has some wits about her.Cersei knew they wouldn't stop her, of course, not really, unless it was an order directly from her Lord Father. They would see her golden hair, see her red dress and the splendent gold lion stitched on her winter cloak, and they would leave her be. She was Cersei Lannister- whatever matter they had in the Tourney Grounds had little to do with her doings-
She is wrong.
Because she is marching directly away from the commotion, intent on finding the witch, when she is wrenched back by a hand on her shoulder. She howls in her displeasure at the rough treatment and is little surprised when it is her wretched Uncle Gerion, grinning at her, hand on her shoulder. He was always beastly to her- she blamed the fact that he was hardly present. He flitted his time uselessly in Essos, a backward, horrible place. She scowled up at her wastrel uncle. The useless fourth-born son, manhandling the eldest child of the Lord of the West, the Hand of the King-
"None of that, little Ce-Ce," he said, simply. He smiled. Mockingly, she knew. He always mocked her with stupid japes and careless words.
He never liked her. She knew it every time he would smile at her. She frowned.
"I told you to address me as Cersei, " she sniffed at the insult, "I am not a child, Uncle Gerion."
She is ten namedays, and she knows, feels it in her bones, she is to be engage to Prince Rheagar at this Tourney. Her beastly uncle rolled his eyes.
"Right. Well, Ce-Ce, you are needed at the castle. There is to be an execution."
Cersei blinked.
"Why?" she demanded.
Uncle Gerion shrugged. Careless. Useless, as always. He probably didn't know anything-
"Cersei," he said seriously, softly, "It's about your friend Lady Melara Hetherspoon."
Cersei blinked.
"She is to be killed? Why? She is my friend. She is just a girl. Did she insult Mother when she went to speak to her? How dare she- "
"Cersei, you misunderstand me. The execution is for Lady Melara Hetherspoom. She has revealed two criminals within our household staff… Her own Uncle and maid have been abusing her. She is to become a ward of your Mother and Father until she is married."
Cersei blinks. Blinks again.
"Abusing my friend?" she whispers, furious.
They touched her friend. They hurt her friend- How dare they-
"Cersei, quick. They are to execute them before the sun sets. I knew you would need to be there for the girl."
She huffed.
"Of course, I will be there for Melara. Anything else can wait."
This must be why she was so strange this morning. But why did she say nothing? What were they doing to her? Why else would she miss Maggy the Frog? Did mother figure something out- that must be it, Cersei thought. She knew that Melara was simple- vivacious and pleasing- but simple and stupid. Speaking to her Lady Mother must have tipped off her Mother of whatever those beasts were doing to her. There was no other way Melara would have never told Cersei-
It must be a recent thing, decided Cersei.
Cersei knew Melara. Knew her future handmaid very well indeed. She would have never hidden this from her. Cersei frowned. She had nearly figured it out that morning, Melara had just gone off to her mother for her. Cersei knew there was something strange about her. Stupid girl could have come to me. I would have handled this.
Cersei sighed. She wondered how severe the abuse had been if it was leading to their deaths.
Cersei wondered if her friend was ruined as sometimes lesser woman could be. Melara wasn't quite that important- only the heiress to poor House of knightly origins- but Gerion had spoken of marriage… Cersei pursed her lips. Not ruined completely, she decided, firmly. Melara had some wits to not let that happen to her.
She would expect nothing less from her friend. She hurried back to the litter she had brought, ignoring her stupid Uncle who followed on her heels, and Fat Jeyne in equal measure.
Melara needed her , she is sure.