Chapter 170: The Thousand Tales Parasite!
A few minutes before,
The Room
For eons, there had been no wise men brave enough to change the definition of Room, adding windows as a quintessential part of the word. Now, though, any space enclosed by walls, a floor, and a ceiling was worthy enough to be pronounced a Room.
This Room also adhered to the definition, doing the bare minimum. It had four walls, yes. White. So white that it almost felt as if the Creator of the universe must have referenced it while creating the color white. It also had a white floor and a white ceiling.
The most conflicting thing was that there was no actual way to measure the room.
It seemed to stretch in one direction if concentrated long enough, and its ceiling seemed to go on forever up and up in a never-ending cycle. It was as big as it was small. The points where the walls' edges met felt wrong, too. Like a convolution of grotesque geometry, incomprehensible to sane minds.
The room wasn't empty and had over one color that didn't belong to it.
There was a bed lying against one wall. Its color was black, and even the sheets were black.
A black mist was seeping off the bed and sheets like dry ice. Near the bed was a table. It was black too. On the table were many black flagons of red wine, black cups, and many miscellaneous accessories. On one side of the table, leaning against the wall was a black chair.
A young Cersei was seated on it queenly, sloshing a cup of wine in her hand, and her gaze deep as if brooding over something hard. She was wearing a black gown, the light black mist lifting off it in many thin curls. Her shiny diamond-like earrings were black too.
Opposite the wall portraying this scene was another bed.