Game of Thrones: Joffrey the Chosen

After the welcoming ceremony ended hastily, everyone moved to the main hall of Winterfell.

The atmosphere was somewhat awkward.

As soon as Robert arrived, he dragged Duke Eddard to the crypts of Winterfell to find his first love, whom he had been longing for for sixteen years.

It was probably my first love.

Upon hearing this, the queen's face immediately fell.

"I've been traveling all morning, and I'm cold and tired." Her voice wasn't loud, but it was clear enough for everyone present to hear.

"Having just arrived at someone else's house, he was in such a hurry to go see a dead person."

Under the king's cold gaze, she angrily left with her twin brother.

Joffrey blinked.

He suddenly noticed that the adults all had their own important matters to attend to.

He now seems to have become the representative responsible for the royal handover.

Because if the sky falls, there are tall people to hold it up.

He was much taller than Tyrion.

Don't miss out.

Joffrey immediately signaled to his servants to bring out the gifts that had been prepared beforehand.

The eldest son, Robb, was naturally given the wolf-headed half-sword.

The moment it was drawn, he couldn't take his eyes off it.

"Well... but I'm not old enough to carry a sword yet."

Despite saying this, the boy had already gripped the sword hilt tightly, his other hand constantly stroking it.

He gazed longingly at his mother, Caitlin Tully.

"What's the big deal?" Joffrey's smile was hearty, showing no sign of malice. "I'm two years younger than you, and I already have my own sword."

With the Duke absent, this matter can only be decided by Caitlin.

Her gaze darted around, and finally she nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Thank you, Your Highness." Robb felt like he had been granted a pardon and couldn't wait to find a place to chop something up and try it out.

Sansa received a harp commissioned by Joffrey in King's Landing, its body intricately carved with winter roses.

The red-haired, blue-eyed girl accepted it with delight, her fingertips gently brushing across the strings.

She looked up and peeked at him secretly, her cheeks flushing red. She whispered her thanks and then lowered her head shyly.

"Your appearance reflects your heart."

Joffrey muttered to himself.

After all, he is quite good-looking, and this morning Cersei even dragged him away to give him a thorough makeover.

Now it looks like Legolas wandered onto the wrong set.

As for the remaining Stark children, they all received a share.

A set of illustrated manuscripts of "Legends of Heroines of the Seven Kingdoms", a wooden knight sculpture that can move flexibly and put on and take off armor, and a dire wolf doll made of gray-black wool.

Mrs. Caitlin stood to the side, thanking everyone profusely, her tense expression softening slightly.

However, the caution hidden in his eyes has not completely disappeared.

Of course, Joffrey would have preferred to give these three items a sewing needle, a wheelchair, and a nutcracker.

That's what you call being thorough in every aspect.

On the surface, however, each of his gifts seemed to be very thoughtful, taking into account age and gender, and even subtly touching on their individual preferences.

The children were overjoyed.

Before long, Joffrey had become one of them.

As for that illegitimate child with a special surname...

"Qiong what? Xue what?"

"Never heard of it!"

Beneath that pitiful, thick wall, Joffrey had no reason, or rather, absolutely no reason, to send him a copy as well, otherwise it would seem too obviously malicious.

After playing with the wolf cubs for a while.

As evening approached, the night gradually fell.

A grand welcome banquet was officially held in the main hall of Winterfell.

Long tables were overflowing with food.

A whole suckling pig with a golden-brown skin, large sausages sizzling with fat, and chunks of boiled mutton with carrots sprinkled with pepper.

And honey-glazed roast chicken stuffed with apples, roasted onions drizzled with gravy, countless loaves of bread, and unlimited supply of ale and summer red wine.

Although Joffrey was a teenager, he had an alcoholic father who would often toast those around him.

"Xiao Qiao, pour him another glass!"

The king struggled to squeeze himself into the main seat, his booming voice shaking the dust off the ceiling.

Robb, who was sitting next to him, was startled by the roar and suddenly looked up, a few drops of cold sweat appearing on his forehead.

He clearly had never experienced anything like this before, but the competitive spirit of youth was ignited by alcohol.

In addition, Joffrey deliberately forced him to drink, so this was the second time he had been knocked unconscious.

"I said, brother..."

Robb's tongue was tied in knots, but he still stubbornly picked up the horn and drank it all in one gulp.

He put his arm around Joffrey's shoulder tightly, his breath reeking of alcohol.

"Your swordsmanship... wasn't it taught by the King Killer?"

"Tomorrow... hiccup, we'd better practice properly tomorrow..."

"Robb! What kind of talk is this!" Lady Caitlin, unable to bear it any longer, scolded him from the side.

Duke Ed also uttered a couple of complaints.

"You were only allowed one drink. I just went out to talk to Uncle Yang from your class for a while, and when I came back you were so drunk."

Robb was not worried about the punishment that was about to come, because he could no longer hear.

Before he could finish speaking, he slid off the bench and collapsed limply under the table, unconscious.

Good-natured laughter erupted around them.

Robert lay in his seat, his belly shaking with laughter.

"Liquor is like an old hero; the more you drink, the more courageous you become."

"At their age, I was never without fine wine and beautiful women. Forget the kids, come on, Ned, drink!"

After a brief commotion, Joffrey lent a hand, helping the arriving servants drag the unfortunate fellow away from the hall.

After finishing his work, he sat down again, leisurely swirling his wine glass between his fingers.

Thanks to the "Come, exchange for a larger cup" offer.

Despite his heavy drinking, Joffrey's mind remains perfectly clear.

After knocking down several more Northern nobles who came to test him, the way everyone looked at him changed from curiosity to astonishment.

Soon, more people, either dissatisfied or eager to make friends, gathered around with their wine glasses in hand.

Joffrey was feeling bored, so he accepted the offer without hesitation, treating it as a test of the skill's potential.

One round, two rounds, three rounds...

During a break from another heavy drinking session, he glanced at the system he hadn't paid attention to in a long time.

[Current Heavenly Will Value (63/99)]

How many?

He clearly remembered that he was only in his early thirties when he last saw it.

At first, Joffrey thought it was his imagination.

But when a man from the Mandalay family, known for his enormous appetite, turned red in the face and ran to the side to vomit violently.

[Heavenly Will Value +3]

Good guy.

Joffrey felt a sudden sense of relief.

So, "red face" refers to the flushed face from drinking alcohol.

He raised his eyes and surveyed the noisy hall.

The aroma of food and the warmth of alcohol filled the air, creating a hazy, misty atmosphere.

Robert is reminiscing with Ed about the past.

Cersei sat in her radiant solitude, her face as cold as ice.

Tyrion was nowhere to be seen; it seemed he had probably gone out to have a heart-to-heart talk with someone.

Joffrey smiled slightly and slowly raised his glass.

"Respect to the Northern Border!"

"Homage to the King!!"

"A toast to this never-ending summer!!!"

The clinking of glasses filled the air once more, and in Joffrey's eyes, a light that seemed otherworldly flickered.