Chapter Text
He stared at her. Her face was so pale and graceless. He had never noticed how many cosmetic surgeries she had had. She had been pretty when she was a teenager, but adult life had made her so dry and artificial; her eyes were wrinkled now.
“Brother, it’s time to close the ceremony now.” Tyrion warned him, placing his hand on Jaime’s shoulder.
It was funny how empty he felt, though empty meant light and free. Tyrion hadn’t even cried. He seemed to be quite relaxed, but it might be just because of the quantity of alcohol he had consumed. Jaime’s father kept quiet during the whole time he stood next to the coffin.
“I know. I’ll take the lilies… she hated these.” Jaime said. Why had someone placed them there? Cersei had always hated lilies; she demanded something more expensive and rare, like orchids.
Jaime got up. Staying on his knees for fifteen minutes had been a mistake. He was actually thirty-eight years old, though he felt like he was still nineteen sometimes. “Goodbye Cersei.” His eyes were red and his lids were swollen, he had been crying for three days. Always hoping for the best, always cursing himself for still wanting her.
She had been with Lancel. The car was smashed horrifically. They had been drinking too much. How long since the last time Jaime had been with her? Two years? One year and eight months? Since he had found her credit card receipts. He thought it was better to forget it; forget her.
He stood up and held the lilies bouquet in his hands. Genna wept discreetly, while Tyrion only sighed and shook his head.
“She really had the loveliest cheekbones.” Tyrion said, placing his hands in his pockets. Tywin glared at him.
It was done. Nothing else to do. Jaime glanced at his aunt and then looked around. Why so many women did wore black fascinators? The queen of England had died? The queen of makeup, as the magazines would call her.
He found Myrcella, she cried almost quietly as she held Tommen’s hand. How would he tell them? Would he ever tell them? Hey kids, I’m not your uncle. I’m your father. Joffrey hadn’t been able to come back home. He had managed to find an excuse. How could a boy not care about his own mother? Joffrey was nineteen now, it was already time to grow up emotionally, Jaime thought. Myrcella behaved more maturely then him and she was just fourteen. She treated her ten-year-old brother, Tommen, like a baby.
“Let’s go, Tyrion. I don’t want Myrcella to see the rest of it.” Jaime said. It would be quite traumatic for a girl to watch her mother’s coffin being closed and taken to the crematorium.
~.~
Six months later…
“Gentlemen, I can assure you the last thing we need is another celebrity endorsing what’s already ancient history.” Jaime spoke to the board of directors as he loosened his tie. He had been trying to convince them that only a completely new approach could save the company, but there was something trivial in the way old men saw a makeup line.
Genna raised her hand, signalizing for everyone to listen to her words. She took a deep breath and got up from her chair. “Fifty years ago, when we founded this company, Joanna and I had in our minds a mission: to make women, all over the world, feel pretty. Times have changed and so has the market. However, our mission remains! I want to be able to close my eyes one day and leave this world knowing that my company still stands for quality and variety.”
Jaime exhaled. He had once thought selling makeup would be easier than selling cars. He had left his position as CEO of Tywin’s automaker to help his aunt, after his sister died in a car accident. Although Jaime remembered his mother working in the beauty industry since a very young age, he lacked the knowledge to succeed in such venture. Numbers had been disappointingly low for a while and he knew it was time to rethink the concept of the brand.
Kevan crossed his arms as he looked at his sister. “Genna, what are you suggesting?”
Genna pursed her pearly stained lips as she blinked her eyes. The black mascara made her golden lashes seem even fiercer as she stared at the men in her company. She never hid her disappointment with the board of directors. “I suggest we listen to the market. There are so many new makeup lines nowadays. Every brand has adapted and redesigned itself to get that extra fat slice of this pie, why shouldn’t we?” She spoke with conviction.
Jaime watched as his uncle rolled his eyes, and it bothered him to think that the board of directors didn’t pay attention to his aunt’s requests. They frequently forgot that Genna was the one who had built that empire from scratch with his mother.
Jaime narrowed his eyes. “We might need a new team… for product development.” He said.
Kevan lifted his brows. “This is nonsense. It’s just a crisis. I mean, the ‘Lioness Collection’ is still very strong and the ‘Golden DNA’ is the top in the anti-age lines! It’s selling more than the ‘Ancient Rose’ line from Tyrell Corporation.” He spoke firmly as he glanced at Jaime and Genna.
Genna shook her head. “We need a new line if we want to attract the younger consumers. Selling high-end products to the 40 to 60 age group category is a stable income, but we need to come up with something innovative if we want to aim at younger women. Girls all over the world want something fresh and practical, easy to use and at a good price.” She concluded.
Kevan furrowed his brows. “If we lower the prices we lose quality, and that’s something you wouldn’t want.” He told Genna.
Jaime tilted his head. “If we can’t have good prices with high quality, then we’re not doing our jobs very well. I think Genna is right! There must be a way of producing excellent quality products for reasonable prices, things that reflect the needs of the younger generation, for 20 to 30 and from 30 to 40 years old. A new staff is essential.”
“You mean headhunting?” Kevan sounded defeated.
Genna narrowed her eyes as she crossed her arms. “Headhunting won’t provide us with what we truly want.”
Jaime took a deep breath and threw his head back. He glanced at the ceiling and licked his lips, trying to think of a way to find a special team, people that could think outside of the box. “The IMATS team could help to point out someone talented and committed to the industry. Their team helped us more than once.” Jaime spoke, mentioning an international makeup artist’s event. He checked the time on his watch. It was already 9:42 pm. “Let’s think about it, for a couple of days. We can get in contact with them and form a new team.”
~.~
Brienne smiled as the blue-eyed princess reached the stage. She could see her daughter was fed up, but her costume was indeed the most beautiful one. Her lines were perfectly delivered and her auburn hair shone under the spotlights. Lyanna resembled her father, no doubts about it. The only trace of Brienne’s blood was in the girl’s cheeks, the tiny sparkly freckles, and in the color of her eyes. Although her father’s eyes were also blue, Lyanna had a lighter, sea blue shade to her eyes.
“By the Gods, she looks so lovely. I think I’m going to cry.” Catelyn whispered as she brought the handkerchief to her face. “It’s just too bad Robb isn’t here to see his girl.” Catelyn shook her head as her brows furrowed sadly.
Brienne sighed and smiled as she watched her daughter. “I’m sure he’s watching her now. I know he’s always with her…” Brienne’s words got lost as she felt the tears wetting her cheeks.
Catelyn turned to her and apologized. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad. I just… I wish he were here with us.”
Just as much as Brienne wished. Maybe even more; a mother’s love was stronger, after all. Robb Stark had been killed in an ambush, during a mission in the Riverlands. It had been three years since he had passed away, so Brienne accepted her destiny now. Her daughter was everything she had in her life. Her daughter and her work. She would sacrifice herself for Lyanna, and she would make sure to give her a comfortable life, providing for her without the fortune of Robb’s family. The Starks had always been generous, but Brienne wasn’t the kind of woman who depended on others.
Besides, she was now a very successful makeup artist and youtuber, and her work was acknowledged as one of the most requested also in fashion shows. She enjoyed creating makeup looks for the runway or red carpet events, but what really made her happy was the warmth of the feedback from her followers on her YouTube channel, where she posted videos with makeup tutorials, product reviews and beauty tips. Brienne still remembered how she had started being interested in makeup. The awful acne on her face needed coverage in order to give her a break from bullies in high school. So the thing that started as an escape route to her low self-esteem became a hobby, and later, her profession.
“It’s okay, Catelyn. Don’t worry.” Brienne smiled and nodded. “I know you miss him too.”
Catelyn placed her arm around Brienne’s shoulders and looked at the stage. “I do, but tonight we’ll celebrate your daughter, so no sadness here!”
Brienne chuckled a little and nodded. Lyanna moved languidly, arching her brows and sounding almost as serious as a professional actress. Brienne still caught herself admiring the girl and wondering where all that talent had come from. “She’s a natural!” Brienne told Catelyn.
“Yes, she’s so talented.” Catelyn agreed.
~.~
“You look worried, Uncle Jaime.” Myrcella spoke as she placed her hand on his forearm. The dining room felt cold with just the two of them there. Tommen was watching a movie in his room and Genna was at some charity event.
Jaime tried to smile, moving his arm so he could take her hand in his. “Problems at work.”
Myrcella bit her lower lip, showing her concern. “Uncle Jaime, will you let me work part time there someday?”
Jaime grinned and nodded. “Of course! That is, if we survive.” He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“What do you mean?” Myrcella asked.
He shook his head as he cupped her face. Her mother’s beauty. Myrcella had the untouched appearance he had once admired when Cersei was young, before the alcohol, cigarettes and plastic surgeries.
“Cella, you don’t need to worry. I’ll fix things. For now, all I want you to do is pass your exams at school.” He spoke tenderly, but the look on her face made it clear she didn’t want to be treated like a child anymore.
“Uncle Jaime, I’m not a kid, you know. I’m older now. I can handle things. I can help you.” She spoke firmly with a demanding tone on her voice.
Jaime noticed the similarities between Myrcella and her mother were only on the outside. The girl was generous and kind-hearted, unlike Cersei who always thought of herself before everyone else.
“I know you can, Cella. Trust me, when the time comes, you’ll help me. For now I need to find a plan… a person, really.” Jaime said as he ran his fingers through his hair.
The girl looked restless and a bit irritated with his refusal, but she understood he needed time. When her phone buzzed, Jaime saw her eyes glancing at the device and going back to him, as if asking permission to check whatever message or e-mail had come up.
Jaime chuckled as he pointed at the phone with his head. “Boyfriend?”
Myrcella’s eyes widened as she opened her mouth in shock. “No!” She even blushed as she started laughing. “You’re the one that should be dating, Uncle Jaime, not me.” She told him with a sassy smile.
“Hey, young lady, don’t change the subject. Any boyfriends I should prepare myself to meet soon?” Jaime asked as he crossed his arms.
Myrcella rolled her eyes and shook her head, while taking the phone to check the message. “Nope. No boyfriends at all… this ship is drifting.” She laughed and Jaime chuckled. “It’s just my friend Arya from school.” Myrcella replied. “She bought some nice shirts and she wants to show me on video call.”
Jaime smiled. “Then get to your laptop so you can chat with her.”
“Really? I mean, you don’t mind?” She asked him as she got up.
“No, you can go.” Jaime answered as he waved at the corridor. The girl hugged him quickly and kissed his cheek.
“Okay, I’ll be in my room if you need anything, Uncle Jaime.” She told him as she rushed to her bedroom.
Jaime found himself wondering if he would ever be able to tell Myrcella he was her father. It pained him to think he might not have the chance, for he lacked the courage to open up to his children about their origin. It frightened him that they might feel disgusted if they ever learned the truth.