Game of Thrones: Joffrey the Chosen

The southbound caravan crossed the Neck Marsh and stopped again near the Trident River.

This time, the Queen can't be blamed; her creaky ghost was already assembled and was now perfectly positioned on the high bank of the river.

The one who truly slowed down the journey was the king.

Hearing that bison had been spotted nearby, he dragged Duke Ed and dozens of men into the western woods early in the morning, leaving the entire group standing there.

As for why Joffrey wasn't invited this time...

"You have more important things to do," Robert winked at him before mounting his horse.

The implication was all too obvious.

So when Joffrey returned to the riverbank, he saw this chaotic scene.

A group of people stood in a circle, pointing and gesturing at something.

"It's a wolf." "Damn, it's a direwolf."...

The hound rudely pushed its way in, barking, "What's all the noise about?"

The crowd quieted down.

"You're making a fuss over nothing! The Starks raise wolves as wet nurses!"

Joffrey had an idea and quickly stepped forward.

The crowd immediately made way for him.

In the center of the circle, the Hound was supporting Sansa Stark's shoulder.

Her face was very pale, her fingers were tightly gripping the hem of her skirt, and the direwolf "Lady" at her feet was also in a bad mood, letting out threatening growls at the surrounding area.

"Dog, you scared her," Joffrey said.

Sandor shrugged, reached out and pulled Sansa into his arms, then bowed and retreated into the crowd.

"Miss Sansa, please don't mind," Joffrey said softly, maintaining a polite distance.

"The hound may look intimidating, but he is actually a very kind person."

Only when interacting with children, especially little girls.

Sansa raised her deep blue eyes and shook her head: "Your Highness, please forgive me, it's not because of Ser Sandor."

"I'm afraid of the other one."

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze passing over Joffrey's shoulder.

The Queen stood at the top of the wooden steps of the palace, smiling as she looked down at the riverbank below.

On the cleared grass stood three royal council representatives who had come all the way from King's Landing to welcome the royal family back.

Joffrey squinted and began to make out the faces.

The mute man wore an iron-gray chainmail over his hard leather coat. His face was covered in pockmarks, his cheeks were sunken, and the few tufts of hair above his ears were long.

The old man wore a white scale armor covered in porcelain glaze, and a cloak symbolizing the Imperial Guard. He stood tall and straight like a pine tree, and his neatly combed silver hair made his clean, snow-white clothes stand out even more.

The last one was even more imposing; his shoulder-length, black hair had been washed at least three times, and his armor, forged from fine steel, was as green as a dense forest.

It's probably the same set that Master Tob mentioned before; I wore it out to show off as soon as it was finished.

The two well-dressed knights exchanged a glance and decisively shifted the blame onto the one who couldn't argue.

"Good lady, Sir Ilyin does look quite frightening; sometimes I'm scared of him too."

The elderly man in white stepped forward, his voice gentle as if he were coaxing his granddaughter.

"That's how it should be." The Queen stepped down from the palace. "The King's royal enforcers are meant to instill fear in the wicked."

Sansa took a deep breath and regained her composure.

She quickly straightened her skirt, which was covered in grass clippings, and replied with impeccable manners, "Then you have certainly come to the right person, Your Majesty."

A burst of laughter immediately erupted from all around.

"Little sister, that's well said. You truly are Duke Ed's precious daughter." The old man nodded slightly to her and introduced himself.

"I know you are the captain of the Kingsguard," Sansa replied politely.

Even in the far north, the poet still sings praises of the great deeds of the "fearless" Barristan Selmy.

Seeing the two exchanging endless compliments, the green-armored knight couldn't resist interjecting.

"Little wolf girl, don't go overboard with your flattery."

"Then can you guess who I am?" His tone was very flippant.

Joffrey coughed. "Speak more politely."

But he knew the person meant him no harm.

He is handsome, but his sexual orientation is abnormal.

And he was locked up with another man in King's Landing who could threaten Joffrey in appearance.

Sansa's answer was very clever; it was neither humble nor offensive.

"My lord, the golden antlers on your helmet are the symbol of royalty, and you look so dashing and young."

"It can only be the Duke of Storm's End and a high-ranking official of the court, Renly Baratheon. Am I right?"

“No.” Sir Barristan’s silver beard trembled with laughter. “He’s so young, he can only be a troublemaker who hasn’t had enough fun.”

Lanli laughed heartily upon hearing this, and the others echoed his sentiments.

The tense atmosphere vanished without a trace.

But the forgotten party emerged from the crowd.

Sansa pursed her lips nervously and whispered her pleas for forgiveness.

"Sir Ilyin, I apologize if I have offended you."

Of course, a mute person couldn't answer.

Seeing Sansa's pleading look, Joffrey explained.

"He used to be my maternal grandfather's captain of the guard."

"Just because he said something in private that displeased the Mad King, his tongue was pulled out with red-hot pliers."

Sansa's eyes widened, filled with pity and lingering fear.

However, Joffrey didn't intend to tell her what it was about that led to her being pulled out.

The queen had already stepped forward with a beaming smile.

"Sansa, I'm afraid your agreement with Myrcella will have to be postponed. Today I have to discuss state affairs with these lords."

"Could Joffrey keep you company today?"

Upon hearing this, the girl's shrewdness vanished instantly, and she reverted to her silly face filled with romantic dreams.

"Let's go horseback riding," Joffrey suggested, leading him out of the crowd.

"Great! I love horseback riding!"

Joffrey called his dogs, and Sansa summoned the wolves.

Safety is always the top priority.

The three men, three horses, and one wolf traveled westward along the north bank of the Trident River.

They went up the mountain to chase the shadowy lynx, went down to the river to touch the plump trout, and when they got hungry, they followed the smoke from the chimneys to a country estate.

The couple who opened the door were quite startled, and Joffrey patiently explained that the hound was not a monster.

They came here to beg for alms.

Of course, Joffrey didn't forget to pay.

A silver deer was placed on the wooden table, and the host smiled broadly: "Serving His Highness is my duty, how could I dare to accept your money?"

After a hearty meal and drinks, they rode aimlessly around on horseback, singing loudly.

Even the hunting dog, emboldened by the alcohol, sang a few lines of a military folk song.

Laughter echoed between the horses' hooves.

Suddenly, the hunting dog pulled hard on the reins.

"Quiet down, there's noise."

Some strange noises came from the woods ahead, seemingly the sound of wood colliding.

The hound drew his longsword and cautiously steered his horse inside, saying, "You stay here, I'll go check it out."

Sansa instinctively moved closer, and Joffrey drew his "Lion's Fang" from his waist.

The sword already had a name when it came into his hands, and it couldn't be changed.

Joffrey quickly scanned his surroundings, trying to figure out where he was.

Suddenly, it felt like his heart was being squeezed by a hand.

Fifteen years ago, Robert killed Prince Rhaegar with his warhammer right here, winning the Battle of the Green Fork that sealed the fate of the Targaryen dynasty.

It's also where Arya and the Butcher's henchmen practice their swordsmanship.

Although the purpose was to test.

But even after it actually happened, he still felt a chill run through his body.

Joffrey had deliberately avoided this area.

But just now, he relaxed for a moment.

They then let the horses carry them freely on their own.

After going around in circles, we finally arrived here.

Are there some inevitable trajectories that we can never escape?