Magic had stirred his ambitions.
But reality was, well, reality.
Early the next morning, twelve-year-old Joffrey still had to obediently listen to his mother and report to the dining room on time.
As usual, breakfast today was unremarkable.
The Queen, Joffrey, and his younger siblings, and the absent King Robert, who was off carousing somewhere.
In front of the lavish breakfast and his warm family, Joffrey cast aside his worries and schemes, enjoying the simple beauty of the moment.
Especially his younger siblings.
Seven-year-old Myrcella, his beautiful younger sister, was innocent and naive. Six-year-old Tommen, his chubby younger brother, was kind and obedient.
They were such good children.
Joffrey offered a friendly smile.
But the two children looked as if they had seen a demon, only lowering their heads to shovel rice into their mouths.
Among the four at the table, Queen Cersei held the highest status, but Myrcella and Tommen feared their older brother the most, rather than their seemingly strict yet doting mother.
Cersei seemed to have never noticed the strange relationship between her children.
"Children, tomorrow we are going home with Grandfather Tywin. Do you remember the Hall of Heroes at Casterly Rock? Play to your heart's content when we get there, you won't have to do any lessons."
Hmph, we'll be in the Westerlands, let's see what old Jon can do then!
His younger siblings obediently agreed, their faces beaming with happy smiles.
Joffrey also calmly assented; he already had the confidence to handle any unexpected crisis.
"It" was gradually beginning to reveal its wonders.
During this time, Joffrey's spirit and mind were becoming more and more abundant and active by the moment, without the slightest hint of drowsiness or fatigue. The presence of "it" was also gradually strengthening.
He had a premonition that once he broke through a certain critical point, he would be able to use it to create Valyrian Steel, and even do more.
Of course, for now, he still couldn't ignore the strength and threats of his enemies, and still had to follow the rules.
The role Joffrey would play next wouldn't change.
He would still watch as Jon Arryn, who had served diligently as Hand of the King for over a decade, was taken down by Petyr.
What a shame, Jon. You knew too much, and asked too much.
Joffrey had to pretend not to see.
The Hand, Jon, knew his true parentage and was currently colluding with King Robert's second brother, Lord Stannis Baratheon, intending to destroy the Lannisters, which of course included him, the Crown Prince.
The Hand must die.
But this would also become a fuse, igniting the great hidden dangers and conflicts buried within the Seven Kingdoms.
Driven and provoked by ambitious individuals inside and outside the kingdom, the North, the Riverlands, the Vale, the Westerlands, the Stormlands, the Reach, and Dorne – the seven great kingdoms of Westeros – would no longer be peaceful.
He put down his knife and fork. "Mother, is it just us going to Casterly Rock this time? What about my uncles?"
Cersei said with a hint of pleasure, "Jaime is traveling with us."
If things change and we have to show our true colors, let them vent all their anger on that dwarf!
Joffrey remained silent.
Tyrion was indeed staying in King's Landing; it was perfect to leave the matter to him.
Joffrey didn't fully grasp how many conspiracies and undercurrents were flowing in these past few days. But he knew that he had best participate in this tour to Casterly Rock.
Why not?
When the Hand died soon after, he would be on the road to Casterly Rock.
When the King decided to go north to Winterfell, he would still be on the road.
He would perfectly avoid the chaos in King's Landing.
"I'm finished."
Joffrey stood up. "Mother, where is Uncle Tyrion? I need to see him."
Cersei instinctively frowned.
"Where else would that fellow be? Either drinking in his little den or at a brothel. You absolutely must not learn from him."
"Got it."
Joffrey waved his hand and left, heading straight for Tyrion's residence.
The Red Keep was much livelier during the day. People were everywhere.
The City Watch "Gold Cloaks" guarding the gates and patrolling, the guards of the Stag and Lion houses rushing about, high-ranking nobles in groups of two or three, and male and female servants wiping walls, cleaning floors, carrying things, and trimming flowers and plants.
Everyone who saw him bowed respectfully and offered good wishes.
But Joffrey knew that these smiling faces did more harm than good.
If a person grew up in such an environment from a young age, without careful guidance from elders, it was inevitable that their personality would become extreme and self-centered.
Even now, he had gradually grown accustomed to ignoring these ubiquitous living people.
Born into royalty and nobility, how could one not have several servants around? Not to mention doing rough work oneself.
Joffrey didn't want this.
Having people serve you was good, of course, but the feeling of having every word and action exposed to others was quite unpleasant.
For now, he could only try to adapt, wear a mask, hide his true thoughts, and find pleasure in it.
Just like at this moment, Joffrey appeared calm on the surface, but in his heart, he was deliberating over the candidate for the Commander of the City Watch.
The City Watch numbered about 2,000 men, famous for all wearing gold cloaks.
These Gold Cloaks were responsible for guarding the Red Keep, defending the city, and enforcing the law, similar in status to the Kingsguard.
Although the number didn't seem large, since the royal family had no other standing army, there was truly no armed force in the Crownlands that could contend with it.
Moreover, just half a year later, when King Robert died, the Gold Cloaks proved their strength in the coup.
For such a force, the future King Joffrey naturally attached great importance to it.
The choice of commander, expanding recruitment, strengthening training, weeding out the weak and redundant, rectifying the atmosphere, until it was built into a truly strong and iron-like army, capable of deterring the Seven Kingdoms.
The current Commander, Janos Slynt, was greedy and corrupt, with an unstable stance, and naturally could not be kept.
Joffrey settled on a few candidates.
He would see at that time who was the most loyal and capable.
They had arrived at their destination.
He pushed open the thick wooden door and immediately saw Tyrion lying diagonally on the bed.
Joffrey walked closer, and a strong smell of alcohol immediately assailed him.
"Uncle, are you still sober?"
Tyrion shook his head, struggling to sit up.
"Joffrey! Have you come to visit your poor uncle? How touching."
"Drink less, don't ruin your brain."
Tyrion was unconcerned.
"Wine is a good thing. Wine makes one wise, ale makes one calm, strong spirits make one's mind active. How can I leave these treasures?"
Joffrey didn't say anything more, walked to the table, poured himself a glass of wine, and savored it slowly.
The sunlight streaming through the window shifted slightly.
"My dear Prince, do you have any instructions?" Tyrion's voice was much clearer.
"Grandfather is returning to Casterly Rock tomorrow. Are you staying in King's Landing?"
"Of course." It's best if he and I don't meet.
Walls have ears, Joffrey didn't waste words, took a roll of parchment from his embrace, and handed it to Tyrion.
"Then you must keep an eye on Littlefinger. My Dragon Egg hasn't arrived yet."
Tyrion agreed loudly while unfolding the parchment.
Observe and record the entire process of the Hand's death.
Deadline half a year, recruit personnel, secretly collect information on all personnel in King's Landing, prioritize Littlefinger's and Varys's people?
Interesting. Is Lord Jon really going to be harmed?
"Do a good job. When I become king, maybe I'll make you a minister." Minister of Finance would be good.
Tyrion thanked him repeatedly and continued reading.
Deadline one month, plant spies to approach targets: my royal brother Stannis, my royal brother Renly, the Commander of the Gold Cloaks and other officers, await further orders, act when the opportunity arises.
Spies.
To do what?
Tyrion knew it in his heart.
But he didn't expect Joffrey's scheme to be so radical and bold.
Even if Hand Jon were to die and Lord Stark were to take over, there would be absolutely no need to touch these people?
Unless...
A terrifying thought flashed like thunder.
Tyrion shivered, becoming completely sober.
King Robert will have an accident!?
Just thinking of this possibility, he couldn't help but worry deeply.
One must know, it had only been a little over a decade since the fall of the Targaryen Dynasty, and there were many voices among the common people who longed for the previous dynasty.
The new Baratheon Dynasty was not stable.
Although King Robert was addicted to debauchery, overly lenient, neglected state affairs, and spent lavishly, accumulating a debt of six million Gold Dragons, equivalent to three years of the royal treasury's income.
Although Robert still held the nickname "Usurper."
He was, after all, the founding monarch who had personally seized the vast kingdom in war.
With seven great lords, hundreds of vassals, and tens of millions of people, conflicts were inevitable, but King Robert's generosity, bravery, and brilliant military achievements were universally acknowledged.
It was on this foundation that the Seven Kingdoms were reunified and submitted to the Iron Throne, and Westeros maintained a rare period of stability and prosperity.
Once the King died violently.
After the young and utterly unwelcoming Joffrey ascended the throne, would the Seven Kingdoms continue to be submissive?
Tyrion was not optimistic.
Joffrey was even more aware of the consequences of the "King's death."
In the more than a hundred years since the Targaryens lost their Dragons, the lords of the Seven Kingdoms had grown increasingly powerful, long accustomed to acting on their own, and their reverence for the Iron Throne had greatly diminished.
Rules and order were becoming increasingly fragile, and the lords prioritized strength.
In this environment, once King Robert died, the Five Kingdoms Alliance of the Deer, Wolf, Fish, Eagle, and Lion, which had only existed for over a decade, would be weakened at best, and crumble at worst.
Among the Five Kingdoms Alliance, the Wolf, Fish, and Eagle families of The North, Riverlands, and The Vale were united by marriage and were more closely related, capable of being independent of the royal family;
The royal Deer family had two ambitious uncles. Renly held Stormlands, and Stannis occupied Dragonstone, sandwiching the Crownlands directly under the Iron Throne. The Deer family was split into three;
Joffrey's greatest reliance – the Lannisters of the Westerlands, the Lion family, although related by marriage, had joined the "War of the Usurper" the latest and had a poor reputation. The Wolf, Fish, and Eagle, and even the royal Deer family, did not view them favorably and had almost no influence on the Five Kingdoms Alliance.
The other two kingdoms were even more troublesome.
Dorne was located in the southernmost part of the Seven Kingdoms, hot and dry, with vast deserts, and its people had always been fierce and difficult to conquer.
Its economy, culture, and politics were also relatively independent, and the Iron Throne had the least influence there.
The Reach was the most fertile, with a population of over ten million, nearly one-third of the Seven Kingdoms, and its abundant grain could feed both Stormlands and Dorne.
Furthermore, other great lords, such as the remnants of the former Targaryen Dynasty and the Greyjoy family of the Iron Islands, also had their own demands and ambitions.
Once the King's authority was gone, all contradictions would erupt simultaneously, like a raging flood.
The Seven Kingdoms were bound to bleed.
But at the same time, the power of the flood could also wash away garbage and filth, allowing for a smooth landing and the construction of a new world.
"In short, remember my Dragon Egg, don't let Littlefinger play tricks."
After a final instruction, Joffrey turned and left directly, showing his attitude.
He believed Tyrion would handle these matters well and was capable of doing so.
Tyrion gazed solemnly at Joffrey's retreating back, his mind filled with thoughts.
Was Westeros about to be engulfed in war?
Who would murder King Robert? Robert's two brothers, or my wicked sister, or even Joffrey, who knew the truth?
Would the Iron Throne of the Stag change hands again?
Most importantly, was the current Joffrey trustworthy and reliable?
Tyrion looked at the last line of text on the parchment: Funds 5000 Gold Dragons, to be reimbursed by The Hound.
Heh, what choice does a person like me have?
This is the only way.
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