Golden Storm

As he passed the Iron Throne, forged from the steel of swords, Joffrey glanced at it casually.

The twisted, menacing blades gleamed coldly in the dim light, and the person sitting above had to maintain their balance at all times.

Aegon I built it to tell his descendants that power is never a comfortable seat.

To control it, one must bear the corresponding price.

After passing through the main hall and turning into the left corridor, you will arrive at the council chamber.

The luxury here represents the complete opposite extreme.

The thick, soft carpet underfoot felt like walking on clouds; in one corner of the room stood a wooden screen depicting the Summer Islands, with hundreds of rare birds and animals carved lifelike.

The walls were covered with tapestries from Norfolk, Kohor, and Lys, and a pair of Valyrian sphinxes stood on either side of the door.

The ministers who had received the notification were already waiting here, and were chatting in small groups.

"Lord Eddard, you're in luck," Renly said with his usual lighthearted smile.

"On my very first day here, I've already encountered His Majesty the King personally attending a royal meeting. This is quite a rare sight indeed."

Robert ignored his brother's teasing and went straight to the head of the long table, his heavy body making the high-backed chair creak.

Eddard Stark sat down to his right in the prime minister's seat, the same seat Joffrey had been crammed into.

Lanley took the first seat on the left, and the others took their seats in order.

Since Stannis was still holed up on Dragonstone, Joffrey didn't need to drag a chair along and simply sat down at the far right end of the long table.

Directly opposite him was Grand Maester Paisell, and to his left was Varys, a eunuch with a bald head.

Sir Barristan sat upright on the other side of the long table, a position that symbolized impartiality and also implied that the old knight was mostly a silent witness.

"Alright, alright, everyone sit tight. Let's get down to business!" Robert clapped his hands.

"To welcome the new Prime Minister, Lord Eddard Stark, Duke of Winterfell."

"Also, to make up for my son's name day celebration, which was delayed by several months."

He slowly poured himself a glass of wine, keeping everyone in suspense.

"I want to hold a grand martial arts tournament, the kind that the seven kingdoms will talk about for ten years."

"so……"

"The winner will be rewarded with 80,000 golden dragons!"

Everyone gasped.

Duke Ed was clearly unfamiliar with the work here and made uncooperative noises.

"puff--!!!"

He coughed violently, almost choking himself to death.

Robert patted him on the back with concern: "Good Ned, don't get so worked up."

Ed managed to stop coughing: "Your Majesty, these are eighty thousand golden dragons!"

"Even if we gave away 80,000 loaves of bread, that would be enough to feed 2,000 people for half a month!"

Paisell turned his head shakily to look at his little finger on his right side.

"Minister of the Exchequer...can the national treasury afford this payment?"

The tip of his little finger tapped the table, making a rhythmic, soft sound: "My dear Grand Scholar, what are you pretending for in front of His Majesty?"

"The national treasury has been empty for so many years, how could you not know?"

His voice was soft and gentle: "Anyway, Lord Tywin will be coming to King's Landing soon to see his son Jaime compete in the tournament."

"We already owe him three million gold dragons, so what's a few hundred thousand more? We're always in debt."

"Three million?!" Ed exclaimed incredulously, turning to stare at the king.

Robert was taken aback by his shout, then cautiously waved his hand: "Don't yell at me!"

"I never bother with such trivial matters as counting copper coins; old Jon Snow was the one who handled it when he was around."

Littlefinger added fuel to the fire: "Lord Eddard, to be more precise, he just owes the Lannisters three million."

"We have also borrowed money from Lord Tyrell, the Iron Bank of Braavos, and many of the Tyrothy merchants."

"Oh, right, and the Church too. The Archbishop's bargaining skills are comparable to those of a fishmonger in Dorne."

He smiled and gave his summary.

"Therefore, the royal family's total debt has now exceeded six million."

Upon hearing this, Ed turned deathly pale, as if he were about to faint at any moment.

Even Joffrey felt he had a bit of tinnitus.

Although he already knew he owed so much, hearing it in person still felt different.

"Jon..." Eddard's voice was filled with pain and confusion.

"Aerys Targaryen left behind mountains of gold and silver, how could you possibly have accumulated that wealth in just over a decade... How could Jon allow you to act so recklessly?"

"Stark!" Robert slammed his hand on the table, making the wine jug on it rattle.

He seemed a little angry.

"I called you to King's Landing to offer advice, not for you to start interfering with my decisions from the very first day!"

Everyone else lowered their eyes in silence.

But the straightforward Ed still glared angrily at the king.

In the tense silence, Joffrey spoke.

"Father."

"A reward of 80,000 golden dragons is indeed too high, and completely unnecessary."

Everyone looked over.

"Concentrating all the big prizes on one person does not show that the event is more prestigious than ever before."

"We can spend the budget on things that can better enhance the celebration atmosphere, such as providing food and drinks for the audience, or adding more competitions."

"For example, poetry recitations, horse racing, and so on..."

Robert was silent for a moment, his thick fingers stroking the armrests of the chair.

Then his eyes lit up, and he slammed his hand on the table again.

"Well, you've given me a good idea!"

"Just having a martial arts competition is really meaningless."

"I've decided to follow in the footsteps of my great-grandfather, Leonor of 'The Laughing Storm,' who participated in the Trial of the Seven Sons."

"Let's hold a seven-on-seven mounted combat team battle!"

"The entire kingdom will praise our name because of this grand event!"

Upon hearing this terrible idea, Joffrey covered his face in anguish and decided to remain silent.

Robert became more and more enthusiastic as he spoke, and his voice echoed throughout the entire hall.

Everyone else refrained from interrupting and listened with varying expressions to the king's grand vision.

After speaking until he was tired, Robert stood up, clearly convinced that the meeting had come to a successful conclusion.

"Petty, you and Ned can discuss the specifics!"

"No fewer projects allowed, but as for the bonus..." He glanced at Ed, whose face was ashen, and finally took a small step back.

"You can decide as you see fit, but it can't be shabby or disgraceful to the Wang family."

"Meeting adjourned!"

The crowd, as if granted a pardon, filed out.

Renly approached Ed and comforted him, saying, "Relax, my brother's always like this, you'll get used to it."

After hearing this, Ed's back looked even more dejected.

Upon returning to Mega Tower, Joffrey did not immediately go back to his room.

Instead, they lingered for a while in the corridor where they could see the Prime Minister's Tower.

About fifteen minutes later, he finally saw the dejected new prime minister.

Almost simultaneously, another figure quickly caught up from the side and warmly put his arm around Ed's shoulder.

After whispering a few words, the two disappeared into the shadows.

Another hour passed.

Joffrey sat back on his bed and closed his eyes, shutting out all the noise from the outside world.

[Stargazing].

Caitlin Tully.

The scene before my eyes suddenly changed.

He stood in a dimly lit room, its furnishings both vulgar and ambiguous.

The tall Northern man and the Riverlands woman embraced, while a thin man beside them had a jealous glint in his eyes.

And on a wooden table in the room.

A dagger with a dragon bone handle was deeply embedded in the ground.