In the throne room of King's Landing, on the iron throne.
Joffrey sat on the tall, cold iron throne, his eyes closed, lost in thought.
"Your Majesty, we have dispatched all the Gold Cloaks to search. Perhaps we will have news soon."
The speaker was the captain of the guard at one of the seven city gates, Ser Jeslyn Beesbury, a knight of House Beesbury, known as "Ironhand."
After Borin Storm escaped, he was temporarily promoted to acting captain of the City Watch. Whether he could be confirmed in the position would depend on his future performance.
Ser Jeslyn Beesbury had also been recommended to King Joffrey by Varys. This man had rendered great service during the Greyjoy Rebellion, lost his right hand in the war, and had since replaced it with an iron gauntlet, hence the name "Ironhand."
"Your Majesty, your mentor seems well aware of my informants and secret passages. As of now, I have no trace of him," Varys said.
"If thirty men cannot catch him, then use three hundred, three thousand, thirty thousand! Bring him back to me, no matter what!"
This was the first time since Joffrey ascended the throne that he had lost his composure on the iron throne. His mentor, Borin Storm, had actually snuck away, had actually left him, and was also suspected of hiding Eddard Stark's daughter, Arya Stark.
How could he be calm? How could he let this go?
"Joffrey, in my opinion, it would be better to let Ser Osfryd Kettleblack take this position." Cersei Lannister seized the opportunity and decisively recommended her paramour.
This decision by the Queen Regent, Cersei Lannister, made all the ministers present scoff, and even Grand Maester Pycelle, who had been feigning sleep, opened his eyes to look at her.
In the hall, Osfryd Kettleblack, ignoring the attitudes of those around him, immediately stepped forward and bowed to His Majesty the King upon hearing Queen Regent Cersei Lannister mention him.
He was tall and strong, with an aquiline nose and black hair; he looked quite presentable.
Joffrey was already seething with anger, and seeing Osfryd Kettleblack step forward only fueled his rage.
"Ser? Mother, if I recall correctly, this man has not been knighted, has he?" Joffrey began his ruthless verbal assault.
"My son, Joffrey, this knight was knighted by me personally, and he is very loyal to us." Cersei proactively defended Osfryd Kettleblack.
"Fine! Lord Baelish, give him paper and a quill. Let him write down the knight's vows for me, and let me see just how high his loyalty is!" Joffrey said with a smile to Petyr Baelish.
Joffrey knew this sellsword-turned-knight very well; Osfryd Kettleblack was the second of the three Kettleblack brothers.
This fellow barely knew how to read, only knew how to flatter, and was involved with his mother, Cersei.
No sooner had Joffrey finished speaking than Petyr Baelish hurried over to hand over the paper and quill. The three Kettleblack brothers had originally been introduced to Cersei Lannister through Littlefinger's machinations.
However, after these three brothers climbed up to Cersei's high branch, they had actually started to disobey him, so Petyr Baelish now wanted to see this fellow make a fool of himself.
"This..." Osfryd Kettleblack looked at the paper and quill before him, hesitating.
He frowned, looking troubled. He only knew how to write his own name; as for the long knight's vows, he couldn't even read them in full, let alone write them.
Joffrey ignored the fellow's embarrassment and continued his mockery: "As such an ordinary king, how could I possibly afford a talent like you? I think you should seek employment elsewhere."
Then, Joffrey slowly turned his head and said to his mother, Cersei Lannister, with a serious expression: "Mother, just because Father didn't know about certain things doesn't mean your son doesn't. I hope you will conduct yourself accordingly."
His meaning was clear: Mother, I will turn a blind eye to some of your affairs. But if you want to bring them out into the open and make them common knowledge, then as your son, considering the interests of our House and the realm, I will certainly help you maintain your dignity.
Cersei Lannister looked up at her son Joffrey's green eyes, inherited from her, and remained silent for a long time. She knew that she probably would not get her way.
Although she was the Queen Regent, her son, King Joffrey, held everything in his own hands and had not given her any real power.
At this moment, Cersei suddenly recalled an offhand remark her youngest son, Tommen Baratheon, had made during breakfast.
"Tommen, if you were king, would you still listen to your mother?"
"Mother, whether I am king or not, I will always listen to you very carefully. After all, you are my mother."
Cersei Lannister lowered her head, her eyes flickering, her thoughts beginning to run wild.
...
King's Landing, near a tavern.
Arya Stark crawled out from under a carriage. She was disheveled, wearing tattered clothes, reeking of sweat, and looked exactly like a young boy raised in the slums.
"Did I tell you to come out?"
"But it's too smelly down there! Does this horse have diarrhea?" Arya Stark held her nose, expressing her dissatisfaction to the man before her.
"No matter how smelly it is, you must endure it. It's better than being discovered and losing your life." The man was wearing a loose robe that shrouded his entire body.
As he slowly raised his head, his face was revealed in the moonlight. It was none other than King Joffrey's mentor: Borin Storm.
"Uncle, why did you save me?"
"For the sake of a promise to a friend."
"A friend? Who?"
Just then, the sound of footsteps rang out.
Several Gold Cloaks suddenly appeared around the corner; it turned out they had discovered something amiss after all.
"Captain, long time no see. Where are you off to?" The Gold Cloaks smiled as they drew their longswords and slowly approached.
Ever since Borin Storm had been appointed captain of the City Watch by His Majesty King Joffrey, he had seemed to vanish into thin air; they had searched all of King's Landing and couldn't find him.
They hadn't expected to be so lucky as to find him today.
His Majesty the King's bounty was ten thousand gold dragons; they had truly struck gold today!
"We've been discovered!" Arya Stark exclaimed.
"Go hide under the carriage." Borin Storm was not in the least flustered; in his eyes, these few lackeys were not worth his effort.
With that, Borin Storm looked at the four Gold Cloaks approaching and drew his longsword.
As soon as it was drawn, a resonant clang rang out. The sword was none other than the ancestral valyrian steel sword of House Stark, "Ice."
Ice, cold as frost, dazzling in the moonlight.
Clang~
Clang~
Clang~
Countless sounds of weapons clashing rang out in the dark night, and nearby residents were so frightened they quickly shut their windows.
Borin Storm was, after all, a hardened warrior who had fought alongside his brother Robert Baratheon through the War of the Usurper; he was far superior to these Gold Cloaks who only knew how to prey on the common people.
His figure flashed, and his longsword struck with lightning speed. As blade met blade, the ringing sound was deafening, colliding with countless hot sparks that sent dust and stones flying and sparks showering through the quiet alley.
Borin Storm's swordsmanship was superb, swift as the wind. He fought the Gold Cloaks from one end of the street to the other, holding his own against four opponents without falling behind.
I do not know how much time passed, but then came a few low groans and the sound of blood splattering.
The next moment, the cold night became as silent as if the air had frozen; it seemed as if all living things between heaven and earth had ceased to move.
Quiet and still, utterly silent.
By the time Arya Stark crawled out from under the carriage in a disheveled state, the battle was over. She saw the four arrogant Gold Cloaks lying in pools of blood, motionless.
Borin Storm, however, was unscathed. With a blank expression, he wiped the bloodstains from "Ice" onto the body of one of the Gold Cloaks, then sheathed his sword.
"I never expected you to be so powerful, Uncle! Even my teacher, Syrio Forel, couldn't do this! I wonder how he is doing now."
While Arya Stark beamed with joy, she couldn't help but worry about her teacher, Syrio Forel.
"We must go." Borin Storm was concise and decisive in his words and actions. He pulled his hood back over his head and led Arya Stark toward the carriage.
They had to leave before the bodies of the Gold Cloaks were discovered; otherwise, once King's Landing went on emergency alert, they would be unable to escape even with wings.
Having served in King's Landing for many years, Borin Storm knew the nature of these gatekeepers very well. He paid only a few gold dragons and passed through the Mud Gate smoothly.
Of course, this was also because he hadn't revealed his identity; otherwise, these guards would not have let him run off for a few gold dragons instead of seizing the walking ten thousand gold dragons.
However, ever since the former captain of the City Watch, Janos Slynt, had been exiled to the Wall by His Majesty the King, the Gold Cloaks at the gates had no unified restraint, and their under-the-table prices had been getting higher and higher.
The Mud Gate should actually be called the River Gate, but because it was near the river and the air was humid, the ground within hundreds of meters was all mud, so the residents of King's Landing called it the Mud Gate.
The old, rickety carriage drove over a patch of mud, swaying and creaking, as if reminding people it was about to fall apart. Thus, the carriage slowly drove into the gate passage.
The city gate at night appeared even darker and more ominous, with only the torches lit on both sides to illuminate the path ahead and provide warmth.
Borin Storm knew that this final hurdle was the most important. He had heard what Joffrey said that day—that every flame was one of Joffrey's eyes and weapons.
Therefore, Borin Storm knew very well that his student had likely already discovered him, and now it was just a matter of whether he would let him leave.
Borin Storm drove the carriage, his expression solemn, heading outward.
As he passed through the gate, he noticed that the flames burning on every torch were all directed toward him in unison. It was as if they were crossbows cocked and ready, surrounding him tightly.
Each time he passed a torch, its steady flame would suddenly flare up, as if it were trying to hold him back.
Borin Storm ignored the anomaly of the torches and, with a face as cold as frost, drove the carriage quickly through the gate, successfully leaving the King's Landing that had held his memories for so many years. He dared not stop for a moment and immediately headed toward Dragonstone.
Borin Storm recalled what his friend, Eddard Stark, had said to him in the dungeon that day.
"The King's three children are all bastards born of incest between Queen Cersei of House Lannister and the Kingsguard Jaime."
"King Robert was plotted against and killed by Queen Cersei Lannister."
"According to the last will and testament, Stannis Baratheon of Dragonstone is the rightful heir to the iron throne."
"Borin, I beg you, take my daughter and go."
Just then, Arya Stark poked her head out from the carriage and asked in confusion: "Uncle, where are we going? This doesn't seem to be the direction of Winterfell, right?"
"The North is in complete chaos right now; we are not going to the North. We are going to Dragonstone," Borin Storm said patiently.
"Dragonstone!"
...
King's Landing, inside the throne room.
"He left after all..."
Joffrey sat dejectedly on the iron throne; he had already seen the other through the flames.
But for some reason, Joffrey just quietly watched the figure recede into the distance, without sending anyone to stop him.
To him, Borin Storm was not only his mentor but also the closest family member he had, besides his parents. Now that even he had left him, Joffrey felt as if a piece of his heart was missing.
It is lonely at the top; he finally understood the helplessness and loneliness of being the King of the Seven Kingdoms.
rhllor's tone also became uncharacteristically sorrowful, and he lamented:
"The strong are always lonely; the grand ambitions in their hearts will never be understood by anyone. They often need to endure betrayal after betrayal, break free from layer after layer of shackles, and undergo countless trials and tribulations to forge a truly strong heart."
Joffrey felt an intense irritation in his heart; he threw a stack of documents from his hands off the iron throne, and they crashed to the ground with a loud noise.
"He can go wherever he likes, I don't care anyway!"