: Distinguishing between loyal and traitorous people

The gloomy sky soon brightened, and the dark clouds that had been blocking the sun gradually dispersed.

In that instant, Joffrey suddenly felt a familiar sensation again.

It was that kind of icy chill that shot from the spine to the whole body.

This made him shudder, and he almost dropped the cup on the ground.

Is it really that coincidental?

Could there really be something watching him from above?

What merit or ability does he possess to cause a sudden clap of thunder in broad daylight?

Joffrey instinctively looked at Ed's face, only to find that even that usually stern face was now filled with horror.

After all, there are indeed some mystical things in this world that are constantly watching over those who break the rules.

For example, those who do not respect the rights of guests, those who kill their relatives, or those who break their oaths.

They will all eventually be destroyed for various reasons.

But Joffrey only said it verbally and cursed a couple of times.

There's no need to use this kind of scene as a warning.

Historically, there has never been any case of someone being struck by lightning and killed because of these things.

But in the end, Joffrey calmly put down his cup and casually muttered a remark.

"The power of a single tremor is so great."

"That thunder scared me to death."

Ed looked at him, and his tense face suddenly relaxed.

"It seems His Highness is still a child, and is afraid of thunder."

Joffrey paused for a moment, then laughed.

"Thunder is a warning from the gods."

"It's probably because I was too disrespectful just now."

Ed didn't respond to that.

He pondered for a moment, then paused to consider his next move.

Then he picked up his glass of wine and slowly drank it all.

The bottom of the cup landed on the stone table with a soft thud.

He spoke slowly.

"Your Highness," he managed to squeeze out from deep in his throat.

"I have known your father for twenty years."

"From our first meeting at the Eyrie, to the battlefield at the Trident River, and then to him sitting in that chair."

"He was brave, generous, and loyal, and people all over the world were willing to follow him."

Joffrey began to listen quietly.

Ed frowned.

"But I don't know when he started to change."

"Maybe Rhaegar is dead, maybe Lyanna is dead, or maybe it's that chair that's suffocating him."

Joffrey met his gaze quietly, waiting for him to finish speaking.

"Or perhaps..." Ed's voice was as soft as a falling leaf, "He's always been like this, it's just that I never noticed before."

The moment those words were spoken, a look of helpless weariness appeared on that weathered face.

"Your Highness, you are right."

"I've been looking for bad guys all along," Eddard said in a low, slow voice. "I'm looking for the murderer who killed Jon Snow, and those treacherous ministers who bewitched His Majesty."

"I thought that as long as I found them and killed them, everything would go back to normal."

"But what if... what if Your Majesty yourself is the root of the problem?"

His voice grew softer and softer.

"Even if I kill all the treacherous officials, His Majesty will still be the same emperor who neglects state affairs and squanders wealth."

"Then what should we do?"

Joffrey continued to listen quietly.

Because he knew that Ed wasn't asking him.

Ed was asking himself that question.

This man, who never bowed his head in the wind and snow, was now asking a question that even he himself could not answer.

"So after a big argument, I thought I might as well just ignore him and resign and go home."

"I will return to Winterfell, stay with my wife and children, and wait for the long winter to come."

Ed shook his head.

"But if I leave, if everyone leaves him because they're disappointed."

"Then he'll really only have that group of sycophantic and treacherous officials left."

Joffrey saw Ed clench his fist and then slowly relax it.

"I wasn't by Lord Jon's side when he died." Eddard's voice was calm, as if he were stating a fact that had nothing to do with him.

"He was alone in King's Landing, facing the extravagant king, the ministers with their own agendas, and the prime minister position he had no choice but to assume."

"He held on for decades, but died under mysterious circumstances."

"I don't want this to happen."

"I don't want Robert to do the same."

"He may be my last living brother."

Ed raised his eyes, his gray eyes revealing a gleam Joffrey had never seen before.

"Your Highness, rest assured, I won't leave." He stood up, his back straightening once more.

"I will speak with Duke Tywin Lannister and deal with your uncle's matter in person."

"Caitlyn arrested the wrong person. I will apologize, provide compensation, and take full responsibility."

Joffrey remained silent, simply nodding quietly.

Ed turned and walked away with firm steps.

They quickly disappeared into the depths of the courtyard.

Joffrey sat alone at the stone table, the remaining wine in his silver cup now cold.

He stared at the direction Ed had gone, motionless.

Seven Gods.

Too scary!

Is this how you always feel when a good person tells you their secrets?

He just wanted to find a reason to persuade people to stop.

……

Two days later, a meeting was held before the emperor.

"To Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West, my dearest father."

Grand Maester Paisell unfolded the parchment, his aged voice echoing through the hall.

"I met Lady Caitlin by chance on my way south."

"At her earnest request, I agreed to go with her to the Eyrie to see the scenery of the valley and to help her uncover a terrible secret."

"Please don't let some people's gossip lead you to act rashly and ruin our relationship with Lord Stark."

"I really went with her voluntarily."

"—Your most beloved son, Tyrion Lannister."

The hall fell silent.

Lord Tywin sat in the gallery, his serious face revealing no emotion.

"My lords," Paisell put down the letter, "it seems this was all a misunderstanding."

"Misunderstand?"

Tywin's voice was as cold as the stone of Casterly Rock.

His gaze swept past the crowd and landed directly on Ed: "He admitted himself that he had ordered my son to be captured."

Varys spoke weakly.

"My lord, Lord Ed must have been blinded by anger to say such impulsive things."

Ed stood up from his chair.

"Lord Tywin, Catelyn has the wrong person. It is my fault."

"I have already sent an urgent message, ordering her to release your son immediately."

Tywin didn't respond immediately, but instead scrutinized him carefully.

The gaze seemed to be re-evaluating this northern direwolf.

Then he nodded.

"My patience is limited, Stark."

The air in the hall began to flow freely again.

"That assassin..."

Robert suddenly spoke.

His voice was somewhat slurred, clearly indicating that he had drunk quite a bit this morning.

"Is it true that an assassin killed your son?"

Ed nodded: "Absolutely true."

"Oh, I see." Varys's voice once again rang in precisely. "It seems there's a reason behind everything."

"No wonder Lord Ed reacted so strongly back then. His own flesh and blood almost lost his life. Anyone would find it hard to agree to that."

The eunuch sighed and shook his head.

"I just wonder how Lord Tyrion got involved in this?"

Robert was somewhat dissatisfied.

"Ned, why didn't you tell me about something this big!"

Ed looked up.

"Your Majesty, I also have a case to file."

"That is—"

Before he could finish speaking, a sharp voice rang out from beside the long table.

"His Majesty!"

Little Finger, who had been silent all along, suddenly stood up.

He took three steps back, his knees slamming heavily onto the floor tiles, his arms outstretched to the sides.

"Your Majesty, I am guilty!"