"Now we are married, we shall have a joint bedchamber." Joffrey declared, as soon as they were both dressed in the morning.
"Will you not tire of me?" She asked, rather dismayed at the idea, as she would not have her own privacy.
"I could never tire of you."
"Then so we shall, but I should still like to keep my room in the Tower of the Hand, if it pleases you."
"If you must."
Iona smiled. "I must go, I have many things to do."
"Go, then, Wife."
As she left the room, she rolled her eyes at his comment.
She had spent almost every night in her husband's room, as she should have, and they were all more than satisfactory, but his incessant need for her was becoming tiring, and boring. She enjoyed his company, most of the time, just not his need to address her as 'Wife'.
Though, it did remind her of the fact that she would one day, be Queen. Her title had been updated to 'Princess', which peeved Cersei Lannister greatly, much to Iona's joy. The good did outweigh the bad, by a great deal.

She headed to her own chambers, to dine there.
Her food was served by the handmaidens who had been sent by Cersei, and so she was always cautious when she ate or drank.
She purposely always ate the same thing when she dined alone and was served by them - so that she could tell if there was a difference.
Now, only after two weeks of being married to Joffrey, she was handed her goblet, filled with honeyed milk, with an added, unwanted extra. Iona had taken a small, subtle sniff and smelt the sourness of Tears of Lys that would have been undetectable if someone did not know what to look out for. For a self-trained nose, like her's, the poison's characteristics were obvious.
Clenching and unclenching her jaw, she placed the goblet down gently and excused herself. It took a lot of effort to restrain herself from torturing the handmaiden for information, just for the sake of it, seeing as she already knew who had commanded it.
Her handmaidens remained clueless to the fact that she had foiled their plan, having thought she was leaving to collect something from her husband's room.

She stormed quickly to Cersei's chambers, where she had to fight her urge to barge in. Instead, she knocked on the door.
"Enter."
The surprise was evident on Cersei's face when she saw her good-daughter standing in the doorway. Iona perhaps sensed a little anxiousness, most likely because Cersei had probably been expecting her to be dead by now. She shifted in her seat, and placed the goblet that she held, down on the side table next to her.
"Iona. Sit down, please..."
Sitting in the armchair opposite, she did not have the chance to speak before Cersei asked,
"What can I do for you?"
"May I ask why you tried to poison me?"
Cersei feigned being taken aback, and laughed, "What on earth do you mean, child?"
"The Tears of Lys, that my handmaiden put in my drink on your command. Why?"
"I have no idea what you talk of."
"Do not lie to me. Not after all I have done for you."
Cersei took in a sharp breath, hesitating.
"I asked her. With a small threat, followed by a very large sum, she revealed everything faster than I could have imagined." Iona lied, so convincingly that Cersei fell for it, and slumped.
"I do not trust you." Cersei said simply, glaring at the other woman, causing Iona to scoff.
"After all I have done for you, you do not trust me?"
"You let your own brother suffer without justice, for me. How can I trust you when you betray your own family?" Cersei demanded, becoming agitated.
Iona tensed, taken aback.
Think, Iona. Act.

As if she was lighting a fire, she quickly and easily forced tears spring to her eyes and fall.
She choked, for effect. "Do you think I enjoyed that? Everyday I live with the guilt - knowing I could have done something... I could have had Ser Jaime and you arrested... killed. Though I didn't. I let my brother suffer, for you. For JOFFREY!"
By the end, she was screaming, making herself sound agonised and throwing herself out of her chair so that she collapsed on the floor.
Cersei flinched but made no move to comfort her, staring at her as if she was something dangerous.

Grovelling, at the floor, Iona continued, her voice quieter this time.
"I love my family, as flawed as they may be. It pains me to think of the injustice that I brought my brother. All for the sake of you. I regret everything I did, but I do not regret protecting your son... You're beautiful son, whom I love very much. I knew it, even then. Does that satisfy you? Knowing I would do as much for your son as you would?"
She let her last sentence futter off as she picked up her sobbing again, tears dribbling down her face and dropping onto the dress or the floor.

Unsure of how to deal with the snivelling girl on the floor, Cersei slowly stood up and walked around her, giving her a wide berth.
"You have seen what he is. He is not without flaws. He is my son, and I love him, but he is a monster."
"Everyone has flaws, and with your son, I overlook them, because to me, he is kind, and loving. I want the best for him; isn't that good enough?"
Cersei did not answer.
"What do you want from me?" Iona cried,

Cersei was exasperated. She did not know what she could do. She could not attempt to assassinate Iona again, things would go badly, as they had done now. What did she want from her? Nothing. She was just afraid - afraid of the prophecy. Surely, Iona was the girl of whom it spoke of. She would take and ruin everything she held dear. Cersei would not let that happen.
Though, Iona was not strong enough to be that person.
Cersei was trapped. She could do nothing.
That was wrong. She could do something; she could do what she was best at. Cersei could manipulate Iona so that she was her puppet.
Iona thought that she was born to the wrong family, and so Cersei would take her into her own; loving her, and showering her with attention so that Iona felt safe.
When that finally happened, Cersei would strike her down and destroy her, once and for all.

Approaching her slowly, forcing herself to put her plan into action, she wrapped her arms around Iona tentatively and whispered,
"I am sorry. I reacted horrendously. I will never do so again. Please, let us start again. If my son can love you, then I can too."
Cersei had never struggled to lie about something that disgusted her, but that had been extremely difficult.