The great lords packed into the king's council chamber, cramming the inn's room until it felt ready to burst.
"That's what happened," Jon said. His cheek had been treated, and his shoulder was wrapped in a thick bandage. Arya stood beside him, still sniffling and crying.
Mycah was there too, the butcher's boy who had run back with the message. It was his first time in a room full of such highborn men and women, and he looked half-witted with fear, not daring to open his mouth.
"Get my son and daughter something to eat. They've been frightened badly," Eddard said. He did not want to hear any more. Dragging this out would only tear at the already fragile alliance between Stark and Lannister.
Great Lord Eddard swept his gaze around the chamber. Aside from his own men, none of the faces were friendly. Great Lord Renly wore a smile that did not reveal what he was thinking. Old Barristan looked grim. The rest were Lannisters, and every one of them seemed openly hostile.
Only Ser Jaime and the Hound seemed less hard than Eddard had expected, which surprised him.
Jon's expression was heavy. The south truly was no good place. It felt as though the Lannisters were closing in around them, and he could not help worrying about his father.
"I say we leave it at that for now," Eddard said again to the king. "I'll take the children to get something to eat."
Cersei's mouth curled as she looked down at Jon and Eddard.
"How dare you speak to the king in that tone!"
The king shifted, frowning.
"Eddard, I don't mean to dig into it. Best we settle this quickly."
"I've already explained myself clearly," Eddard replied, his voice cold.
The queen shouted, "Your bastard son and that savage little girl attacked my son together! Your daughter threw stones at him and even tried to set a wolf on him!"
"He has a name," Eddard roared. "My son is Jon. Show some respect."
"Hmph. A bastard is a bastard, Lord Eddard," the queen repeated with contempt.
"That's not true!" Arya shouted. "My wolf didn't bite anyone! Joffrey hurt my brother, and my stone only hit his horse. And I only threw it because Joffrey started bullying Jon!"
"Joffrey has already told us what happened," the queen said coolly. "You and your family's bastard beat him with sticks while setting the wolf on him."
"It wasn't like that," Arya said, tears spilling again. Eddard reached out at once and patted her shoulder.
"It was exactly like that!" Prince Joffrey insisted. "They all attacked me together. That bastard took my sword, and that wild little girl tried to set her wolf on me!"
Eddard noticed that as he spoke, the boy would not meet Arya's or Jon's eyes even once. It felt less like certainty and more like a performance.
"You're lying!" Arya yelled.
"Hold your tongue!" the Prince shouted back.
"Enough!" the king bellowed as he sprang up from his chair, anger ringing in his voice.
The room fell silent at once.
He glared at Mycah and Arya. "Child, tell me what happened. All of it. Exactly as it occurred. Speak plainly and tell the truth. Know this: lying to the king is a grave crime."
Then he turned on his son.
"You will have your turn after they finish. Until then, keep your mouth shut."
Mycah began to speak, stammering through the story. With every word, the king's face grew darker.
Barristan and Renly, however, kept their eyes on Jon. The boy's thinking was careful, and he had acted with a clear head. After all, a butcher's apprentice had no Hand of the King for a father. Jon had saved the child's life.
When Arya began her account, everyone listened closely. She told it in even more detail than Jon, right down to the moment when Joffrey had whimpered that he would run to his mother.
Renly Baratheon could not hold it in. He burst out laughing.
The king looked ready to explode.
"Ser Barristan, escort my brother outside before he laughs himself sick."
Great Lord Renly finally reined himself in. "How thoughtful of you, brother. I can find my own way."
Renly gave Joffrey a bow.
"Later, perhaps you can tell me how someone managed to knock your weapon away with a broomstick, and made you cry for your mother."
As the door closed, Eddard still heard him say, "So much for 'Lion's Tooth'," followed by another peal of laughter.
Then it was Joffrey's turn.
He offered a version entirely different from theirs, his face drained pale as he spoke.
"Enough!" the king said as he rose heavily to his feet, having grasped the general picture. "Joffrey tells one story, Arya tells another. That's the end of it. I'll have the Maester treat Jon properly."
"That will not do," Cersei said stubbornly.
Ser Jaime stepped forward and spoke quietly to his sister, but the queen's expression remained sour.
"There was another witness present," the queen said, pointing at Sansa.
"Enough, woman! Do you want to disgrace us all?" Robert roared, his face dark with anger. The shout startled everyone in the hall.
Sansa felt as if she had been granted a pardon, spared from having to face this humiliating scene. She wore a blue velvet gown trimmed with white embroidery, with a silver chain around her neck. Her thick auburn hair had been carefully brushed until it shone.
She blinked at her sister and Jon, then glanced toward the Prince.
"Thank you, Your Grace. Everything happened so quickly that I cannot remember clearly. I only saw Jon and Joffrey facing each other."
She spoke as though the memory had slipped away.
"Forgotten?" the king considered for a moment. "Better forgotten. Then all of you forget it. You, Joffrey, Jon, Arya."
"You wretched bitch!" Arya screamed.
She lunged like an arrow at her sister, knocking Sansa to the floor and striking her again and again with fists and kicks.
"Liar! Liar! Liar! Liar!"
"Arya, stop!" Jon shouted.
Even as Jon and Jory pulled her away, Arya's feet were still kicking wildly.
Eddard came over and helped Sansa up. Her face was pale, her body trembling.
"Are you hurt?" he asked.
But she only stared blankly at Arya, as though she had not heard him at all.
"What are we to do now?" the king muttered with a troubled frown.
"That girl is as savage as that filthy beast of hers," Cersei Lannister said coldly. "Robert, she and that bastard must be punished."
"Your Grace, it was your son who slashed Jon's face and nearly ruined his sword hand," Eddard said angrily, glaring at Cersei.
"Seven hells, have mercy on your king!" Robert groaned. "What do you want me to do? Drag Arya out and whip her through the streets? Or make Joffrey kneel and beg forgiveness? They're children fighting. It's finished now."
The queen tried to continue arguing, but Ser Jaime stopped her.
Eddard said nothing. He simply turned to look at Jon's wounds, like a silent protest.
"Let Joffrey apologize to the boy!" Robert said, looking at Cersei.
Cersei pretended not to see.
"I'll find the best healers for him and give him more gold dragons than he can count, but do not expect Joffrey to bow his head to some bastard. Three hundred gold dragons. Isn't that the ransom worthy of a noble knight?"
"Gold, gold, always gold," Robert sighed. "Look what you've turned Joffrey into."
Robert walked over to Jon and patted his uninjured shoulder.
"Good lad. You've got courage. When you're healed, come hunting with me. My son behaved disgracefully today. I owe you an apology."
Then he glanced at his eldest son.
"You fool. If you're going to make such a spectacle of yourself, do not bother dragging me into it next time. Eddard, discipline your daughter and your son properly. I'll deal with my own son."
After hearing the rebuke, Joffrey shot the Stark family a venomous glare. Jon realized he had not imagined it.
"Your Grace, I would be honored," Eddard said, clearly relieved.
Robert was about to leave when the queen still refused to let it go.
"And what about the wolf?" she called after him. "What will you do about the beast that threatened your son?"
Arya stiffened at once, though Nymeria had already run far away.
"Be quiet, woman. Your son is not disfigured. Eddard's son nearly is," Robert roared. "This matter is finished."
"And you, butcher's boy. Stop running errands for the cook. From now on, serve this Lord Jon," the king said suddenly, on a whim.
"Thank you, Your Grace."
Jon and Mycah both expressed their gratitude. Bastards rarely had squires from noble houses.
"Hmph. Lord Eddard, you'd better keep a close eye on your direwolf," Cersei said bitterly. "After all, a wolf pelt is worth quite a few gold dragons."
Jon remained silent. He had long understood this would be the outcome.
At least it was still within a tolerable limit.