Green Plums and Wine

The Godwood Forest in Red Keep is much smaller than that in Winterfell.

Ed stood under the heart tree, looking up at the dappled sunlight filtering through the branches.

Although it was just an ordinary dark oak, without any carvings.

But he could still hear the leaves whispering in the wind.

Just like those countless afternoons in the North, when he sat alone under the Heart Tree and heard them.

"What a nice breeze."

Ed turned his gaze away and looked towards the courtyard to the side.

Prince Joffrey was looking down at the spices in the small copper pot, brewing red wine.

The rich aroma of cinnamon and cardamom mingled with the fruity scent of raisins, spreading in the gentle breeze.

"The wind follows the tiger, the clouds follow the dragon."

"Dragon and Tiger Heroes Soar Across the Sky."

The child started saying some strange, inexplicable things again.

But on his excessively young face was an expression that Ed couldn't decipher.

Ed shook his head silently.

There are no tigers in Westeros, and all the dragons are dead.

"Lord Ed, please." Joffrey grasped the handle of the jug and poured the deep red wine into two silver cups.

Ed took it and silently watched the fruit sink to the bottom of the cup.

Joffrey invited him to a plum wine gathering.

But this was at the beginning of Aegon 298, and the plum trees had just begun to bloom.

Man Junlin couldn't find a single green plum, so he had to use dried green plums from last year to make do.

"His Highness invited me here not just to admire the comet and enjoy some wine."

Joffrey smiled and picked up his glass.

"Lord Ed, you've done something really big lately."

Ed did not answer.

He simply tilted his head back and drank the wine in his glass in one gulp.

The sourness of the dried plums mixed with the spiciness of the spices burned his throat.

This tastes exactly like yesterday's meeting.

It was both bitter and astringent.

That was a hatred that should have ended more than a decade ago.

Iris died, Rhaegar died, Ilya and the children died.

But Robert still didn't let it go; his angry roars still echoed in Ed's ears.

"Go back to your Winterfell!"

then.

Then there's Tywin Lannister.

"Your wife arrested my son!"

At that moment, Ed suddenly understood.

He hated Caitlin for being too reckless.

But he hated himself even more.

He regretted not letting Caitlin stay longer, until the matter was clarified before leaving.

He should have expected this.

That dagger, that secret letter from the Eyrie, those rumors in King's Landing, and Littlefinger's slip of the tongue at the tournament.

All of these elements should have been strung together into a complete chain long ago.

He simply refused to believe it.

She couldn't believe Lysa would frame her husband, nor could she believe Littlefinger would weave such a treacherous web.

I don't want to believe that this storm is already inevitable.

At this moment, beneath this heart tree that does not belong to the North, he faces a prince who has just turned twelve on his nameday.

The child's father is Baratheon, and his mother is Lannister.

He was deeply worried about the impending war.

But Ed himself only wanted to escape.

All he wanted was to escape back to Winterfell and satisfy his own desires.

And prepare for a possible war.

Joffrey refilled his cup: "The Old Gods watch over the Forest of the Gods; no one will lie before the Heart Tree."

Ed looked at the heart tree again.

It stood silently, faceless and eyeless, yet he certainly felt that something was gazing upon it.

This was the only place in the Red Castle where he could feel at peace.

"What exactly does Your Highness want to say?"

Joffrey lowered his eyes.

For a moment, Ed almost thought it was his imagination.

On that prematurely mature face, a trace of weariness emanated from the depths of her heart.

"Sir, you've only been here a few days, and you already feel you can't stay any longer," Joffrey said softly. "Since you're leaving, why don't you tell me?"

"Among this entire court of officials, who are the treacherous villains who bring disaster to the country that I need to worry about?"

Ed's fingers, which were stroking the silver cup, paused slightly.

"How dare I speak ill of you gentlemen?"

"What comes from your mouth goes into my ears." Joffrey grabbed his sleeve. "Here, not even a eunuch's little bird can hear a thing."

"Your Excellency has witnessed firsthand the fierce rivalry between my parents' two families, compounded by the instigation of malicious individuals."

He sighed heavily.

"Ugh."

That sigh was too heavy; it shouldn't have come from a child's chest.

Ed looked at him.

Looking into those eyes that bore such heavy burdens at such a young age, and at that face that was trying so hard to remain calm.

He remembered his son, how he struggled to hold back his tears when they parted in Winterfell.

He reached out and gently touched Joffrey's cheek.

This child is even younger than Robb.

Robb had the company of his brothers in the North, the guidance of Maester Luwin, and the walls of Winterfell protecting him from the storms of the outside world.

But Joffrey was in the Red Keep, surrounded by treacherous officials and wolves.

Ed withdrew his hand and remained silent for a long time.

"Chancellor of the Exchequer Petty."

"He was a complete liar, treated the national treasury as his private property, used his position to line his own pocket, and even put a price tag on his official post."

"This person is a treacherous villain."

Joffrey shook his head.

"Little finger?"

"He was merely using clever methods to fill the kingdom's holes with tacit approval; at best, he was a clever parasite."

Ed pursed his lips.

"Varys, the chief of intelligence, always claims to be loyal and devoted to the peace of the kingdom."

"He talks too much and does too little. Nobody knows what he's really up to; he's a traitor."

"An eight-legged spider..." Joffrey drawled.

"He does selectively report information, and keeps a flock of little birds chirping everywhere."

"But all I want is to find a safe haven to settle down and make a living."

Joffrey raised his eyes, his expression calm and unwavering.

"He's an enigma, but he can't be called a villain."

Ed lowered his head, thought for a moment, and then began to call out names one by one.

Paisell, Genos, and even the derelict Renly and Stannis.

But Joffrey deflected each one with a nonchalant air.

There was even a hint of disappointment in his tone.

Ed suddenly understood.

He took a deep breath and uttered the name that had lingered on his tongue for so long, yet he had always been reluctant to speak it.

Tywin Lannister.

"He was ambitious, greedy, and unscrupulous in his pursuit of his goals, with no regard for honor whatsoever."

"He held no official position, yet repeatedly offended the king's authority, placing his own faction throughout King's Landing in an attempt to control the royal family."

Eddard looked directly into Joffrey's eyes, those emerald green eyes that were just like the Lannisters'.

"Your Highness, although he is your maternal grandfather."

"But you must be wary of him."

In that instant, Ed saw Joffrey freeze in shock.

I saw the true emotion in his eyes, like someone who had been waiting for a long time and finally received a response.

Joffrey lowered his head.

"Lord Tywin," he said softly, "is indeed a cruel and ruthless man."

"But his power was built on royal interests and debts. His father acknowledged his power and used it to consolidate his rule."

He gave a wry smile.

"Lord Tywin is indeed far more dangerous than those people, but he and the kingdom are interdependent and regard each other as indispensable allies."

Ed was about to speak.

Joffrey suddenly leaned forward, resting his elbows on the stone table, and moved closer to him.

Those emerald green eyes shone brilliantly in the dim light of the day.

"Lord Ed has said so much, but he forgot to mention the person he should have mentioned the most."

A sudden sense of fear arose in Ed's heart.

"Who?"

Joffrey's voice was extremely calm.

"The greatest villain in Westeros today."

"The one who brought the most harm to the country and the people, and did whatever he pleased."

"He is the king of the Iron Throne."

"my father."

Robert Baratheon.

Silvery lightning tore through the clouds, illuminating the entire courtyard in a ghastly white light.

boom!!!

A thunderclap exploded in the sky!