You walk into your chambers, whistling.
You've had a good evening of executing traitors.
Now you wish to rest.
But suddenly, a hand clamps over your lips and you're forced to the ground.
Your Queen, Margaery, stands over you.
She places her booted foot on your neck and presses down.
"One word and I break your neck," she hisses. "Understand?"
You nod desperately, wondering what's going on.
Margaery smiles.
"I've wanted to do this for a long time..."
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