CerseiLannister flicked her flowing blonde hair over her shoulder. She had newly arrived in New York City, and having looked up her brothers and some more of the more familiar faces from the life she'd left behind, she found herself feeling a strange yearning for home. Her homeland felt almost mythical in the big city - her memories had already taken on a strange edge, almost as though they were fiction, written by a skilled hand. 

It saddened her somewhat to feel that way. Yes, her homeland was very different to New York. Yes, she may as well be in a different world. The homesickness didn't eat away at her, but it did make her all the more wary of the world. So for a while, she sat and she watched and she listened. And she began, quite quickly, to realize that this new world wasn't all that different from the world she'd left behind.

Power, honor, gold, blood, admiration, ego, control, revenge, grudges, friendships and loyalty.

When you boil this world down, this is what motivates it's people. This is what makes us tick, this is what we live and die for. It is what starts wars and causes death and it is what drives the sons and daughters of those who have fallen to return in their place. 

In my homeland, it is similar. Perhaps a little more emphasis on whores and Gods, but at the end of the day, it is the same things that motivate our men, that widows our women. 

I thought I had come into a different world from the one I had left behind, but, I think, it is not so different. I look at the events that I have walked into this world to see, and I match up what I have seen myself with what I have heard in whispers and murmurs, and I know that this is true. 

We make Kings among our Godfathers, we place them on a throne and we call them Chairman. We look at these men with something above the respect that we look upon our regular Godfathers with, and perhaps that makes them more vulnerable. At home, there was but one throne, to rule over seven kingdoms, and the blood that was spilled to sit in that throne, to prove oneself the right and true leader among the rest, could have filled a river several times over. 

Perhaps this world is little different. More Kings, yes. More thrones, yes. But perhaps the deaths of Godfather Chairman Curtis and Godfather Chairman Tetley shows that one thing is the same, both here, in this criminal underworld and in my homeland.

Cersei clears her throat. 

When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die. There is no middle ground.

The moment you stop winning, even for a moment, the moment you stop playing that game of thrones, even if just for a moment, the moment you relax, the moment you think you have gotten to the top of the tree, the moment you accept the view that your position is without threat, is the moment that you lose the game of thrones, the moment you die. 

This, I think, was the aim of the Gods when our cities were divided into districts. My saying from my old life, I believe, has never rung truer than it does today, in the light of the demise of two Godfather Chairmen who could so easily be seen as giants. 

Rest in peace to the fallen.

They say when a man dies, two things speak of the greatness of that man. Their Funerals and the way they went out. 

Two Chairmen dead. Two shots both from men from within their cities...

Speaks volumes about their reign. Shows how much they really knew about the insides of their empires. 

Rip to the fallen.