Game of Thrones: Joffrey the Chosen

Outside the bustling hall, in the dark and desolate courtyards of Winterfell.

Two figures were loudly plotting something.

Joffrey happened to be leaning against the door, eavesdropping.

"...As an illegitimate child..." This is what the shorter one said.

"...all the dwarfs in the world..." This was said by the shorter one.

Their conversation was really pointless.

In short, it's all about proving one possibility.

That is to say, their biological mother, whom they had never met, was probably a woman.

Upon hearing this, Joffrey silently shook his head.

It's just that I don't have a mother.

He was having a terrible headache because of his partner.

My gaze swept across the hall, and Cersei remained seated on the high platform, her lips pressed tightly together.

She didn't eat a single dish during the four-hour banquet.

The conversation in the courtyard gradually subsided.

Joffrey composed himself, then casually strolled out.

"Uncle, what were you and that Stark kid talking about outside?"

Tyrion raised his conspicuously large head: "Eavesdropping on other people's conversations is not something a good boy should do."

Joffrey ignored him and walked straight toward the brown-haired, long-faced boy.

He pointed to a white direwolf lying in the shadows, quiet as a ghost.

Asking a question you already know the answer to.

"What's its name?"

"Ghost," Jon Snow replied.

He paused for a moment, then cautiously added a sentence.

"His name is Bai Ling, Your Highness."

Joffrey waved his hand. "We're not in the palace, why be so formal?" His tone was very casual. "Your brother and I already call each other brothers."

Tyrion, who was standing nearby, suddenly chuckled.

He shook his head from side to side, feigning sudden realization, his tone laced with undisguised mockery.

"That's good. You two future brothers can chat together then."

"I'm going back to drinking."

After saying that, he staggered towards the hall with his short legs.

Just before reaching the door, he turned back and threw down another sentence.

"See that, kid? This is what happens when you keep a wolf as a pet."

"From now on, whenever someone tries to get close to you, you'll know exactly where to start."

Looking at that short yet enormous figure, Joffrey's face was full of smiles.

That damn little devil!

Is it really that hard to control your mouth?

But thankfully, it was Jon Snow standing before me.

He knows nothing.

While the boy, also named Jon, was still savoring the moment, Joffrey decisively took over the conversation.

"Then it seems I didn't choose the wrong person."

"Everyone says Lord Ed has six children, but I've only met five of them until I met you."

His tone was casual, as if it were just a boy's curiosity.

"What, aren't we welcome?"

Jon Snow remained silent for a moment, then lowered his eyelids.

"I am an illegitimate child," he said in a low but very calm voice, "I have no right to sit at the table and dine with you."

Joffrey raised his voice, feigning surprise.

"That's strange."

"In my opinion, compared to your brothers, you are the most like Stark."

"Otherwise, how could I have recognized you at a glance?"

Jon suddenly looked up, a tiny glimmer of hope flashing in his gray eyes.

"Really?"

"Of course... no."

Joffrey drew out a mischievous laugh.

Then he gestured with his chin toward the direwolf beside him: "I recognize it."

The direwolf's ears twitched slightly, and its pale red eyes looked at Joffrey.

Jon scratched the back of his head and laughed sheepishly.

The initial awkwardness was somewhat eased by this little joke, and they started talking freely.

However, amidst the seemingly easy pleasantries, Joffrey's heart sank deeper and deeper.

This journey to the North was brought forward by at least three months thanks to his efforts, and it is not yet the year 298 of Aegon's calendar.

But Night's Watch deserters still appeared before they arrived, and the Stark children had already received the direwolf cubs.

The timelines remain very close.

Joffrey twisted his fingers, deep in thought.

He felt a strange sense of irritation.

In his memory, these events did not have specific dates, nor could he accurately determine the intervals between them.

What worried him was Littlefinger's letter accusing the Lannisters of murdering the Prime Minister.

Before or after?

Or perhaps, it will arrive as scheduled tonight.

After a moment's thought, Joffrey decided to take the initiative and stop waiting passively.

After saying goodbye to Jon, he returned to the party that was still going on.

Then, with a fawning smile, he crept up to Cersei.

"Still angry with your biological father?"

Cersei snorted through her nose.

"Have you had enough to drink?"

"So you finally remembered you have a mother?"

Her tone was sarcastic, but fortunately, it wasn't as aggressive as it was towards others.

"I think you're just like that drunkard. You might as well be buried in the grave with him and keep him company."

Joffrey offered a few words of comfort before subtly shifting the conversation to his real objective.

"Mother," he leaned closer and lowered his voice, "have you mentioned her sister to Lady Caitlin?"

Caitlin Tully, who was sitting to the side, visibly twitched her cheek.

Cersei tilted her head back, her emerald eyes glaring at Joffrey, glancing sideways twice.

"I was thinking," Joffrey said, his tone now tinged with self-reproach, as he continued to spill the beans, "Could it be that I drove Mrs. Lysa away?"

"I overheard my father saying that he wanted to send Lady Lysa's son to Casterly Rock to be adopted by my grandfather."

"But Lord Baelish had told me with a grin that little Robert was probably going to Dragonstone with Lord Stannis to collect bird droppings."

Caitlin's ear was noticeably tilted to this side.

"Jordan, you're drunk," Cersei interrupted him.

Joffrey's voice sounded even more sorrowful.

"So I found it strange at the time, and casually mentioned it to the hound."

"But I didn't expect Mrs. Lysa to be nearby, so she probably heard it."

"Everyone knows that she lost so many children and was almost driven crazy by them, so she doted on little Robert."

"Is it all my fault for letting it slip that Lady Lysa rushed back to the Eyrie so hastily, without even attending Lord Jon's funeral?"

Cersei reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Oh, my little Joe, this is certainly not your fault."

"You didn't mean any harm. She wanted to run away on her own, so why blame us?"

She paused, then suddenly raised her voice.

"Mrs. Lysa certainly wouldn't mind, would she?"

Caitlin, who had already turned around completely, was startled by his words and hurriedly sat back up, responding in a low voice.

"Yes, that's right."

Then he frowned deeply and looked down at his clasped hands.

Joffrey lifted his sleeve and licked his moist eyes.

This was something that took a lot of effort to squeeze out.

Having achieved his goal, he returned to his seat and awaited what would happen the next day.

The banquet is still ongoing.

In the midst of the revelry, no one paid any attention to this little incident.