All things bloom and wither as destined, a floating life spent in vain toil.
Inside The Red Keep at King's Landing.
Having just heard that Robert Baratheon was preparing to go hunting, Joffrey rushed over immediately.
He desperately hoped to accompany Robert, at least to prevent him from dying there, but Robert firmly refused.
"Joffrey, I am going hunting now. The hand of the king, Ned, has just woken up and has trouble walking. I hope you can stay and help him with state affairs recently."
"But..."
"My son, listen to me. It is settled."
Robert said this with a smile while patting Joffrey on the head, and patted his shoulder again as he left.
Joffrey knew that once his father Robert made a decision, no one could change it, so he stopped arguing.
However, he needed to take some necessary measures.
"Sandor, come with me."
"Yes, Your Grace."
Joffrey led Sandor Clegane straight toward the squires following the King. With one glance, he spotted the conspicuous red-capped Lancel Lannister in the crowd.
This man was King Robert's squire and was almost the person closest to Robert.
Lancel Lannister was the eldest son of Kevan Lannister, the younger brother of Tywin Lannister. He was strong and had sandy brown hair that fell to his shoulders.
His face was quite handsome, with flashing light green eyes. People often said he looked very much like his cousin, the kingslayer Jaime Lannister.
He had been sent into the palace by his father, Kevan Lannister, to serve as a squire for King Robert Baratheon.
But Joffrey knew this guy was secretly working for his own mother, Cersei Lannister. Well, "working" in every sense, and he was even involved in the plot to kill King Robert Baratheon.
"Give me the wineskin in your hand."
"Your Grace, this is His Majesty the King's personal wineskin. It cannot pass through the hands of others."
"Get this straight, I am not discussing this with you, Sandor!" As he spoke, Ser Sandor Clegane, who was following behind Joffrey, immediately drew his longsword.
"Your Grace, what are you..."
"I will say it again, give me the wineskin!" Joffrey took the longsword and glared at the panicked Lancel, placing the blade against his throat.
"Yes... yes." Feeling the coldness of the longsword, Lancel thought for a moment and eventually compromised. His eyes flickered, and he handed the wineskin in his hand to Joffrey without a sound.
As soon as Joffrey took it, he used the sword to pierce the full bag of strong wine right on the spot. The thick, potent wine sprayed out, drenching the marble floor beneath their feet.
Robert Baratheon, who was walking in the front, looked back, frowned, but said nothing.
Perhaps in his view, this was just a child's rebellion against an adult not taking him out to play. It seemed he needed to pay more attention to his son's mental state in the future; after all, he was his eldest son and heir who would one day sit on the iron throne.
"Ser Barristan, please make sure to protect His Majesty the King well. Even if he orders you to stay away from him, do not let him put himself in danger."
Finally, Joffrey entrusted this to Barristan Selmy. If this legendary old knight was reliable, Robert's safety would be foolproof.
Joffrey thought for a moment and added, "If the King asks you, just say I ordered it."
"Yes, Your Grace. Please rest assured, this is my duty." Barristan Selmy patted his chest to guarantee. He was very satisfied with this handsome prince.
Humble, polite, and possessing astonishing martial prowess, he was exactly like His Majesty the King in his youth and would surely accomplish great things in the future.
Watching the group moving further away, Joffrey let out a slow sigh. He truly did not want his cheap old man Robert to die like this.
On one hand, it was out of personal affection for his father Robert; no matter what, Robert had always been good to him.
On the other hand, it was out of consideration for the current severe political environment. As long as the situation did not descend into chaos, he could use his status to plot more things for himself.
However, he feared that time and fate would not wait for anyone.
Although he had already made many contingency plans, he still felt uneasy inside.
Just like in the original story, it was clearly him who sent the assassin to kill Bran, but now he hadn't done it, yet it still happened.
Was this the arrangement of fate?
For some reason, Joffrey always felt that the matter of sending someone to assassinate Bran seemed a bit like the work of "Littlefinger" Petyr Baelish.
...
Inside The Red Keep, before the iron throne.
The iron throne was built by the first monarch of the Seven Kingdoms, "Aegon the Conqueror".
Legend had it that he made the dragon "Balerion" breathe high-temperature dragon fire to melt thousands of swords collected from defeated enemies, and combined with the efforts of many top craftsmen, it took a total of fifty-nine days to forge the iron throne.
The iron throne was an iron lump covered in spikes, blades, and twisted metal. Its backrest also had many spikes; it didn't look like a comfortable seat in any way.
"Aegon the Conqueror" once said that a king should not sit comfortably, which was why he deliberately ordered the iron throne to be made this way.
Eddard Stark was sitting on the iron throne with legal documents in hand, listening to the people and handling state affairs. There was no other way; the King only knew how to play and ignored everything, including the court, so he, the hand of the king, had to handle it.
The laws of Westeros also stipulated that when the King was away, the hand of the king could sit on the iron throne to handle state affairs on the King's behalf.
Joffrey stood on Eddard's left, and Petyr Baelish stood on Eddard's right; both also served as assistants to Eddard.
Ministers like Pycelle lined up behind them, while the Kingsguard stood scattered in various parts of the hall to deal with any emergencies.
"Next." Eddard had just finished dealing with a headache-inducing matter and immediately called the next person in.
"Honorable Judge!" Hearing this phrase, Joffrey, who was standing to the side, was stunned for a moment. He almost thought he had transmigrated back.
Only after hearing the other party's explanation did he realize that this old man had moved from Yi Ti on another continent when he was young, which explained why he could speak Mandarin.
After reacting, the old man likely knew that people here might not understand the Yi Ti language, so he immediately switched to the common tongue of Westeros.
"Please let the Hand of the King know, that man they call The Mountain, Ser Gregor Clegane, is a mad dog. He has been burning, killing, and looting throughout the Riverlands, leaving the entire region in panic and the people in misery."
"I heard: he has three heads and six arms. He is twice as tall as a normal person, his arms are thicker than an ordinary person's waist, and his eyes are as big as brass bells. He is always grinning with a blood-stained mouth, holding a huge axe several meters long in one hand, leading a group of demon-like subordinates, killing everywhere he goes. During the day, they boil people to eat, and at night, they roast people on a furnace. Oh my goodness, it's truly terrible, so scary!"
This old man's rapid-fire speech left Eddard Stark stunned, and Joffrey, standing nearby, couldn't help but laugh and cry. This guy made "The Mountain" Gregor Clegane sound like a monster.
However, Joffrey immediately thought: Gregor Clegane was beaten by him until his own mother wouldn't recognize him, and he still wasn't dead? The medical conditions of House Lannister were impressive!
But next, everyone couldn't laugh.
Following the old man's words, another group of people walked into the hall. They were ragged, some missing arms or legs, and they were trying hard to hide their tears.
Joffrey widened his eyes. These people were...
They were the survivors from Wendish Town, Sherrer, Mummer's Ford, and the surrounding areas. According to their reports, "The Mountain" Gregor Clegane had cruelly slaughtered their villages with his men.
The means used were even more hair-raising. Just listening to it made anger rise in Eddard Stark's heart.
Everyone in the hall felt they were a group of demons. Varys kept saying, "Truly terrible." Many ministers strongly suggested that the iron throne should immediately send troops to deal with those cruel fellows.
"How are you sure that he is Gregor Clegane? They couldn't possibly be wearing their house sigils, could they?" Petyr Baelish asked suspiciously.
"They didn't wear house sigils, but The Mountain's appearance is too conspicuous. Moreover, he just had his arm broken at the tournament, and his left arm is still in a cast."
Raymun Darry spoke up to explain, and after finishing, he glanced at Prince Joffrey standing next to Eddard Stark.
Raymun Darry was the head of House Darry and the Lord of Darry. He hated the Lannisters and now hated "The Mountain" even more.
"In that case, in the name of the iron throne, I strip the knighthood from Gregor Clegane. Furthermore, we must send knights to crusade against The Mountain. I wonder which of the knights present can take up the challenge?"
While Eddard Stark was speaking, he was also pondering the candidates in his heart.
Just as he was thinking, he inadvertently caught a glimpse of his daughter. Sansa Stark at least knew to wear a large hood to hide herself before coming in, but Arya Stark was sitting right at the door watching the excitement.
This was simply nonsense! Eddard Stark felt a surge of irritation in his heart.
"Hand of the King, let me go. I will definitely bring Gregor Clegane back." Hearing this, Loras Tyrell immediately stood out and was the first to request the command.
However, Eddard Stark, sitting on the iron throne, shook his head at him and did not agree.
Eddard Stark had a protective instinct toward this young man. He did not believe that a tournament could be compared to a battlefield. He thought Loras was very likely to be killed by Gregor Clegane, so he did not agree to him.
"Ser Beric Dondarrion, I will trouble you to make this trip."
"Yes." Beric Dondarrion walked out from among the knights, bowed to Eddard, and accepted the order.
Eddard Stark thought for a moment and decided to send the "Lightning Lord" Beric Dondarrion of Blackhaven to the Riverlands to represent the iron throne and crusade against "The Mountain."
In fact, the reason Eddard Stark did not send the "Knight of Flowers" Loras Tyrell was, in part, due to protection.
Another reason was that Eddard did not want to bring Gregor Clegane back for trial; he knew that if he were brought to King's Landing, Robert would certainly spare him once again out of consideration for the Lannisters. This time, Eddard wanted the "Mountain," that cold-blooded, cruel, and bloodthirsty hound, to die directly in the Riverlands.
Originally, Eddard Stark had intended to carry out the execution himself, using his ancestral valyrian steel sword, Ice, to end the "Mountain's" life. However, in his current condition, even walking was difficult, let alone riding a horse to perform the execution.
Moreover, Eddard had considerable confidence in the martial prowess and sense of justice of Beric Dondarrion, and he believed that he would certainly not fail to live up to his expectations.
Just then, Prince Joffrey, who had been listening to the proceedings from the side, spoke up.
"Uncle, why don't we send the Knight of Flowers, Loras Tyrell, as well? After all, the Mountain is not alone; he has Lord Tywin's guards with him, and our forces do not have the advantage."
Joffrey's words sounded very reasonable, but upon closer reflection, one would realize that the forces of the iron throne were not weak at all.
Furthermore, the "Mountain's" men were not all regular troops of House Lannister; rather, the majority were newly recruited soldiers.
"Then let it be as Your Highness says. Ser Loras Tyrell, this will be a trouble for you as well." Eddard Stark thought for a moment; he actually understood some of the situation regarding Gregor Clegane, but he did not want to argue with Joffrey, so he ultimately agreed.
Petyr Baelish, standing nearby, understood Joffrey's intention almost instantly, and he glanced sideways at the Prince. A sense of vigilance rose in his heart; he believed that Joffrey's political aptitude was likely on par with his own.
This might affect his future plans, but he did not need to be overly guarded; at least for a long time to come, their interests and demands were aligned.
Thinking of this, "Littlefinger" Petyr Baelish smiled slightly; it seemed this game of thrones was becoming more and more interesting.
"Thank you, Hand of the King. Thank you, Your Highness."
Hearing this, the handsome face of the "Knight of Flowers," Loras Tyrell, immediately beamed with joy; he had wanted to slay the Mountain with his own hands since the tourney.
Thinking about how he had almost been killed by that fellow Gregor Clegane, he gritted his teeth; this time, he had to wash away his shame.
Joffrey also smiled, for his goal had been achieved.
The reason Joffrey sent the "Knight of Flowers," Loras Tyrell, to hunt down the Mountain was mainly to draw House Tyrell into the fold.
He did not want to be a puppet king sidelined by his dear grandfather, Tywin Lannister. As long as he could get House Tyrell involved, he could play the game of checks and balances.
Joffrey had seized the perfect opportunity while Loras Tyrell was burning with rage and had lost his reason. If Loras had calmly thought about the pros and cons, he would absolutely not have rashly stepped forward to volunteer.
Besides this, the City Watch in King's Landing had to be replaced with his own men as soon as possible, so that his safety could at least be guaranteed.
Next, he needed to befriend both Petyr Baelish and Varys. Petyr Baelish's goals and demands were very clear—he just wanted to climb higher, and he could trade status for his loyalty. At the very least, he could stabilize him for the time being and prevent him from stirring up trouble.
Varys, however, was a bit more difficult; that man's allegiance and stance remained a mystery to this day.
Joffrey felt troubled. It seemed he would have to have a private conversation with that fellow Varys; he had to ensure that he would cooperate with him during this critical period.
After all, regardless of whether he stood on the side of House Baratheon, House Targaryen, or the Blackfyre line, he would absolutely never support Stannis's army entering King's Landing.
The more chaotic the situation was now, the more advantageous it would be for him.
Joffrey cast a glance out of the corner of his eye at the smiling Petyr Baelish. Chaos is a ladder, right? Since you need chaos, then I will make the situation even more chaotic.
Inside The Red Keep, on the training grounds.
Joffrey Baratheon was practicing swordsmanship with his teacher, Borin Storm. Joffrey had already discovered his own weakness: although he had become very powerful in both soul and body thanks to the advantage of his transmigration.
He was someone who possessed strength but did not know how to use it. A warhammer was very suitable for someone like him who could overcome ten skills with one force.
However, Joffrey had not forgotten that on the real battlefield, the strongest weapons were lances and spears, and the high speed during a cavalry charge further enhanced their sharpness.
However, his teacher, Borin Storm, was not very skilled with the lance; rather, his swordsmanship was exceptional.
At least, he had never won against him until now; even though his strength was several times greater than his, he could not stop his longsword from reaching his throat.
In the blink of an eye, Borin Storm's longsword swept, resting on Joffrey's shoulder once again.
"Teacher, I lost again." Joffrey pouted with a helpless expression, causing Borin Storm to smile, pat his head, and ruffle his golden hair.
"Alright, alright, my Prince, don't make that face. Today, I am going to teach you a unique technique that belongs only to me. You must perk up and study hard."
"A unique technique!" Joffrey's eyes lit up. His teacher, Borin Storm, was so skilled at swordsmanship that even a little guidance benefited him greatly, let alone this kind of hidden, unique technique.
"Yes, my unique technique is..."
However, before Borin Storm could finish, someone came running over in a hurry. Joffrey recognized him: it was Lancel Lannister, the one he had almost killed.
Seeing his flustered appearance, Joffrey suddenly had an ominous premonition.
"Your Highness, something has happened to His Majesty the King."
"What did you say!"
In the Tower of the Hand.
Eddard Stark looked at his two daughters before him. His eldest daughter, Sansa, spent her days hanging around that boy Joffrey, and his second daughter, Arya, was running around the stables all day. Truly, neither of them could give him any peace of mind.
"I called you here this time because I intend for you to return to Winterfell as soon as possible."
"What?!" Sansa and Arya said in unison.
"Father, I am sorry. I shouldn't have snuck into the throne room to watch. Please don't send me back to Winterfell." Sansa admitted her mistake first, thinking that her father was angry because she had been disobedient.
"Father, I am sorry too. I shouldn't have snuck in to watch either. Please don't send me back to Winterfell." Arya followed suit and admitted her mistake.
"It has nothing to do with that matter. I cannot disclose the specific circumstances; we shall talk about it after you return." Eddard Stark said with a serious expression.
"Father, I don't want to go back to Winterfell. I want to stay here, and I must marry Prince Joffrey. Just like the prince and princess in the songs, I want to be his queen and bear his children." Sansa panicked instantly; she had long been immersed in the stories of princes and princesses and could not extricate herself.
"After you return to the North, I will certainly find you a noble husband better than Joffrey. Believe me, he will be even more gentle and brave than Joffrey." Eddard Stark tried his best to coax Sansa. King's Landing was in complete chaos now, so he needed to at least coax her into leaving first.
"No! My Joffrey is already very gentle and brave, and his martial prowess is extraordinary. Even a brutal monster like the Mountain was easily taken down by him."
Eddard Stark was speechless, thinking to himself: Didn't you see how crazy Joffrey was that day? How on earth is he gentle?
"Father, can I take my teacher Syrio back with me?" Arya still wanted to practice swordsmanship.
"As long as he agrees, it will be fine." Eddard Stark was no longer so opposed to Arya practicing swordsmanship; he felt that Arya had wolf blood in her body similar to his sister Lyanna Stark.
After saying this, Eddard Stark ignored the crying Sansa and the running Arya, and he said to Septa Mordane, who was standing to the side—
"Septa Mordane, the steward Vayon Poole has already made arrangements. Sansa and Arya will depart in three days aboard the Braavosi ship, the Wind Witch. At that time, I hope you will accompany them."
"As you command, my lord."
Joffrey stumbled along the path to the inner chambers of The Red Keep. He had carefully questioned Lancel Lannister to learn what had specifically happened.
But when he learned everything, his mind went blank, his whole body went cold, and he nearly collapsed to the ground. He furrowed his brows, seemingly unable to understand why.
It happened anyway. Why? I have already changed the key characters; why hasn't the plot changed?
Originally, it was Lancel Lannister who had swapped the strong wine for Robert, but after I destroyed his wine, it somehow ended up being the Kingsguard Meryn Trant who served the wine to Robert. How could this be?
Moreover, he had already instructed Barristan Selmy that he must protect the King well, and that he must stay by his side even if it meant disobeying orders.
But when Barristan Selmy intercepted the boar from the original plot, another, even larger boar appeared immediately afterward. What is the reason for this? Why can't I change it?
For the first time, Joffrey felt a suffocating sense of powerlessness. Why! Why can I do nothing?
"Because fate cannot be changed, and everything you do is in vain." At this moment, that majestic and kind voice, which was incomparably familiar to Joffrey, rang out.
"Who are you?" Joffrey was truly startled when he heard the voice. He exclaimed in his heart: Could you be my golden finger, the "old grandfather" figure! It has been so long, and the system hasn't had any reaction; Joffrey had almost forgotten that he even had a system.
"You may call me rhllor."
"Who?!"
Damn! This is really hellish. I actually blurted out something real!