Jun Ling, the Mighty Lion

"Lord Tywin, you've finally arrived."

"We've been waiting with bated breath."

Grand Secretary Paisell was like a clumsy child who threw a pebble into the deathly silent throne room, creating an awkward ripple.

The others looked at each other, but no one said a word.

Joffrey stood slightly behind Cersei, his gaze sweeping across the entire room.

Standing in the very center of the hall were the powerful ministers and nobles of the Red Keep, including the Grand Maester who had just realized he had said something foolish.

Standing opposite them,

It was Joffrey's maternal grandfather, Tywin Lannister, Duke of Casterly Rock.

Although he was over fifty, he was still tall and upright, with long legs and broad shoulders like a rock.

Even without his famous armor, he wore only a dark red velvet coat and a brocade embroidered with a golden lion draped diagonally.

This imposing aura, though not one of anger, was still more intimidating than the two fully armed Casterly Rock guards behind him.

And at the highest point, on the iron throne forged from hundreds of swords, sat those who would greet him.

It wasn't Robert.

Instead, he is now the Prime Minister.

Lord Eddard Stark.

His back was as straight and stiff as a sentinel tree in the North.

It felt as if a sword was stabbing him hard in the back.

"Duke Tywin Lannister." Eddard gripped the armrests on either side of the Iron Throne tightly.

"On behalf of Robert I of House Baratheon, ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, I welcome your arrival."

His voice sounded unusually dry.

"Your Majesty... has other important matters to attend to at the moment."

A thought flashed through Joffrey's mind.

The most important thing is probably to prevent His Majesty from being distracted by fooling around with girls in some tavern.

He believed that more than one person present was thinking the same thing.

After all, if Robert really wanted to mess with someone, he had a whole host of tricks up his sleeve.

This blatant humiliation had already made Cersei tremble with rage.

She stared intently at her father below the steps, her eyes filled with a mixture of anger and pleading.

The Queen probably didn't want Tywin to have a fit of rage at that moment.

Finally, under everyone's watchful and expectant gaze, the king's father-in-law made a response.

Tywin did not bow, nor did he lower his chin even slightly; he merely nodded very slightly.

It was less of a tribute and more of a confirmation that he had heard it.

"Your Majesty's diligence in state affairs is a blessing to the kingdom."

"With the Prime Minister acting on behalf of His Majesty and sitting firmly in this position, His Majesty can surely rest assured without any worries."

His voice was steady and deep.

But everyone felt like they were standing on the crater of a volcano about to erupt.

Ed's Adam's apple bobbed.

"The Duke must be tired from his journey." He abruptly changed the subject, clearly not wanting to dwell on the matter any longer. "A guest room has been prepared at the Red Keep; please rest early."

"Thank you for making the arrangements."

Tywin didn't say anything more, and didn't even look at his children and grandchildren.

He turned sharply, drawing a cold, hard arc.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the empty hall until it disappeared outside the door.

The captain of the guard behind Ed was filled with indignation, as if he regarded this as a great disgrace.

"Let's call it a day."

But Ed just sighed at him, his face showing a blank expression.

They also hurriedly left with their entourage.

Joffrey also took a breath.

Thankfully, both of them are rational.

If some other people encountered this situation, they might have drawn their swords and started fighting on the spot.

The gate slowly closed.

The silent hall immediately came alive, like a honeycomb bursting open.

"Oh dear, Grand Scholar, what were you thinking just now?" The eunuch Varys was the first to float over, teasing him in his cloying voice.

"You scared me to death! With just your greeting, I was afraid that the bloody incident from more than ten years ago would be repeated here."

"Having not seen his old master for so long, he must be too excited and has forgotten himself." Little Finger had also come over at some point.

His words remained sharp and incisive, hitting the nail on the head.

Paisell's face flushed red and then turned pale as he stammered an explanation.

Seeing that he couldn't win the argument with them, he simply flicked his sleeves, pretended to be stupid, and slipped away.

Cersei had already left before Eddard left, leaving only Joffrey behind.

He was deliberately waiting here to watch the show.

After a while, Little Finger seemed to have just noticed him and slowly strolled over.

He first glanced cautiously at the hunting dog beside him before speaking.

"Your Highness," Littlefinger said with a beaming smile, "it seems your grandfather and your future father-in-law don't get along very well."

Even at times like this, his instinct to mock others remains unchanged.

"Lord Petyr is too kind," Joffrey replied with a polite smile. "Both the Prime Minister and Lord Tywin are important ministers of the state, but each has their own duties."

"Your Highness is right." Littlefinger wasn't surprised by this high-sounding answer. "After all, Lord Tywin Lannister held this position before."

He moved closer: "So, that's why he's angry."

"Could it be that he feels this 'newcomer' has taken his place?"

Joffrey's smile remained unchanged.

"Lord Tywin is magnanimous and never gets angry over such trivial matters."

"Don't you think so?"

Littlefinger laughed too.

"Of course, it's only a matter of time before the young surpass the old." He said lightly, but with a hidden meaning.

"I just hope they can get along well and not let such a small matter ruin their harmony."

They were naturally referring to the matter that Joffrey had arranged for Commander Gold Robe to handle a couple of days ago.

Joffrey knew it very well.

For someone like Genos, loyalty and principles are merely means to an end for his own benefit.

If they encounter a higher bidder, they will not hesitate to switch sides, and may even start a speculative scheme that they think is clever enough to win on both sides.

However, Joffrey failed to deduce from the conversation whether Genos was truly keeping his mouth shut.

With Littlefinger's intelligence network, even the slightest disturbance within the Golden Robe would eventually reach his desk.

So all of Joffrey's plans for the tournament, from the fragrant pies on the table to the prize-winning quiz buried in the mud.

One of the purposes was to identify this team, which theoretically belonged only to the king.

Whether their inherent loyalty has been transformed into a sense of belonging remains to be seen.

After years of Robert's laissez-faire attitude, the people they were kneeling before were actually the Chancellor of the Exchequer who paid their salaries on time every month.

It's still that same high and mighty Iron Throne, where all that's known is drinking and hunting.

At this moment, Varys, like a cloud drifting in the wind, joined this seemingly pointless small talk.

He skillfully smoothed things over, always playing the role of peacemaker and observer.

Looking at the pair of Tiggers in front of him, Joffrey understood perfectly.

Actually, dealing with these two crunchy sharks is not complicated.

They could be made to disappear without a trace, and no one in King's Landing would shed a single tear.

The problem is that they all have to be resolved at the same time.

If only one of them is eliminated, the other, in order to protect itself, may resort to desperate measures.

And he used all the deadly secrets he knew as his last bargaining chip, in a desperate, all-or-nothing attack.

Besides, Joffrey didn't want to do that either.

The reputation and image he has painstakingly built cannot be easily tainted by conspiracy and assassination.

At the very least, no one can know.

Therefore, Joffrey needed a legitimate reason to make their downfall seem justified and satisfying.

Littlefinger was still chatting, breaking down the details of that awkward meeting; Varys chimed in softly, his eyes darting around.

Joffrey listened with a smile, but his thoughts had already drifted to faraway places.

There is a place with high mountains and steep ravines, where cavalrymen from seven kingdoms were famous.

However, because of a certain regent widow, it is very likely that she will remain steadfast and uninvolved in future major battles.

Valley.

So it's not just Little Finger who drools over maps in the middle of the night.

Joffrey also wants to take this place.