Cercei's POV

The flight was long, stretching across continents to reach our possible destination.

“It’s fucking cold,” my Aunt exclaimed in a half-whispered sing-song voice about the frigid weather as we disembarked at Tokyo Airport. The chilly air greeted us with an icy embrace.

“Do tell me if you happen to know anyone here, Melanie,” Mamà requested.

“Leave that to me, sister,” Aunt Melanie winked. I shook my head and smiled, pondering whether she knew ...