章 34: Chapter 34
The next morning, Joffrey strode purposefully into the Small Council chamber. He hadn't expected to see Robert there; his father usually avoided these tedious meetings like the plague. But Robert sat at the head of the table, nursing a goblet and looking almost irritated to be present. Joffrey guessed he felt a twinge of shame over his son's recent heroics while he, the King, had been nowhere in sight.
Joffrey moved without hesitation toward the empty chair for the Master of Ships, taking the seat as if it belonged to him. Petyr Baelish watched him with a raised eyebrow, the hint of a smirk curling his lips.
"Your Grace," Baelish said with feigned politeness, "I wonder if your uncle would take offense to seeing his seat occupied."
Joffrey shrugged. "Then perhaps he should make it a point to be here. Otherwise, someone else will fill it."
Robert barked a laugh, startling some of the others. Grand Maester Pycelle, playing the old fool as always, chuckled with his usual wheeze.
"Once upon a time, Queen Rhaenyra herself served as a cupbearer to the council, Prince Joffrey can learn much if he witnesses these preceedings" he croaked, clearly thinking Joffrey needed reminding of his place.
Joffrey only grinned back. "Fortunately, we have enough hands around here to fill goblets already, unlike the Targaryens of old." Some of the council members chuckled quietly, a few even nodding in approval at his quip. He noticed Varys's face, unbothered, as if he'd fully expected Joffrey to assert himself in the council. It was a small recognition, but one that confirmed what Joffrey already knew—Varys now considered him a player, a prince to keep an eye on.
Ned Stark, ever the voice of reason, interrupted the idle banter. "If we're finished with pleasantries, we might see to the realm's business. We have daylight enough yet."
Renly, seated at the other end of the table, began his report in his capacity as Master of Laws. "The King's Peace has been maintained," he said smoothly. "Or as much as it can be in the capital. Unless we're counting every petty crime like theft and rape." His tone was flippant, dismissive of the severity.
Joffrey's eyes narrowed, his voice cutting through the room. "Why do you consider those 'petty crimes,' Uncle?"
Renly's gaze darkened. "Because they happen so often, dear nephew, that it would be pointless to chase down every criminal. Most thieves escape, and if the rapists end up marrying the girl anyway, what harm is done?"
Joffrey's expression hardened as he leaned forward. "And if some woman took you by force, would you be content to wed her for it?"
Renly's expression turned icy, and he slammed his goblet on the table, wine sloshing over the rim. "Hold your tongue, boy, or you'll find it silenced."
Robert's laugh boomed again, clearly entertained, though it didn't ease the tension. "Don't take it so seriously, Renly. A bit of jest between uncles and nephews!" But Renly's face only darkened further as he looked at his brother, unwilling to let the comment go.
Joffrey didn't break his gaze, but he rose from his seat slowly, nearly eye-to-eye with his uncle. "It's not a jest for the women of King's Landing who don't feel safe outside their own doors."
Renly's smirk returned, almost taunting. "Shall we cut down every man in the city then, in case he turns rapist? Or will you accuse the men here, nephew?"
Joffrey's jaw tensed. "A girl knows the face of her assaulter."
Renly chuckled, shaking his head. "So she should wear the shame like a badge, so everyone can know what happened"
Joffrey argues saying "she can wear a mask while showing the assaulter"
Renly smirks as he says "What a wonderful idea so that any woman can accuse anyone of rape?"
The tension in the room had reached its peak until Robert slammed his fist down. "Enough! Both of you, sit down before you waste the whole damn day." Joffrey and Renly exchanged one last glare before resuming their seats.
The King gestured to Ned, looking somewhat bored now. "You're the Hand, Ned. Handle it."
Ned nodded, his gaze shifting first to Joffrey. "Your place here is that of an observer, Prince Joffrey, to learn the ways of the council, not to interfere. I would advise that you join us only when you are better prepared to engage without disruption."
Joffrey met Ned's look, reading between the lines. Stark's tone was cool, rebuking him just enough to give the appearance of disapproval. He was distancing himself from Joffrey, a subtle way of showing that the Hand and the prince were anything but allies.
Ned's gaze turned next to Renly, who was smirking now, thinking the rebuke had gone in his favor. "And as Master of Laws, it is your duty to uphold those laws, Lord Renly. No offense against the crown should be dismissed lightly."
Renly accepted the rebuke, though it was softened compared to Joffrey's. The meeting continued on, the council discussing various minor issues until Baelish brought up the kingdom's finances.
"Despite recent costs, the crown's investments remain healthy and profitable, returning funds at a steady rate," Baelish said with his usual smoothness, pausing to sip from his goblet. "As long as we have a kingdom, those coffers will keep filling."
Joffrey watched Baelish's relaxed posture, seeing how most of the council members tuned out his words, almost relieved that the kingdom's debts were someone else's problem. Baelish wrapped up with a flourish. "In short, all funds are flowing as they should."
The council murmured their approval, ready to move on—until Joffrey spoke up. "Where?"
Pycelle squinted at him in confusion. "Where, my prince?"
Joffrey looked directly at Baelish. "Where is the money flowing?"
Baelish's smile didn't falter. "To various investments, as I mentioned. And, of course, some pending payments to our creditors."
Joffrey cut him off before he could continue. "What pending payments?"
Baelish raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Well, to the Iron Bank of Braavos, for one—some Two million dragons. And then there's the One and a half million owed to your grandfather."
Joffrey felt the weight of those numbers land on the room like a stone. Ned Stark looked visibly disturbed, his brow furrowing as he shot a glare at Robert. "How has the crown amassed so much debt? The treasury was full after Aerys's death."
Baelish shrugged, the picture of indifference. "Rebellion is costly, Lord Stark, as are tournaments."
Robert looked away, frowning, but Baelish continued smoothly, "Speaking of which, His Grace and I discussed holding a tourney in your honor, Lord Stark, for your arrival."
Ned's jaw clenched. "No tourney. I have no need for such a display, and neither does the realm's coffers."
Robert scowled, irritation flaring in his eyes. "It's not for you, Stark. The people should see their new Hand."
"I'm not a prize to be paraded," Ned replied, his voice hard. "If it's a matter of funds, it's best spent elsewhere."
Robert let out a long sigh, reluctantly conceding. "Fine. No tourney, then. But I'll expect you to sit with me at one for your name day."
The council meeting finally drew to a close, and as the members stood to depart, Joffrey followed Ned closely, glaring for anyone watching them. To the court, it would look like he was waiting for a moment to dig into Stark for the rebuke. Once they reached an alcove away from prying eyes, Joffrey dropped the mask.
"Do you think you've found our rat?" he asked in a low voice.
Ned looked thoughtful. "I have suspicions. Varys, for one, and… Lord Velaryon."
Joffrey feigned surprise. "Why those two?"
Ned sighed. "Varys is clever, but his information always seems selective. As for Lord Velaryon, he doesn't contribute much yet seems to insist on being present."
Joffrey held back a smirk. "Lord Velaryon is senile. His son is handling affairs at Driftmark, so he comes here more out of habit than purpose."
Ned nodded slowly, though he didn't seem convinced. Joffrey lowered his voice further. "You'd do well to keep an eye on Baelish."
Ned frowned, shaking his head. "Littlefinger's only a treasurer of the kingdom and not really working as a Master of Coin should. I do not understand how we can find the rat by playing into whatever his trap might be."
Joffrey kept his gaze steady. "Lord Stark, whoever the man that ordered your son's assasination is he will appear normal and harmless. he will guide you on certain paths with questions rather than answers, Someone who is close to you before you even talked to them, Someone who reveals to you secrets and acts like a guide in the court of vipers and then give you wild theories of what might have happened to spring his trap"
Ned considered his words carefully, his face unreadable. Finally, he nodded. "I'll keep that in mind, Your Grace."
Joffrey watched as Ned walked away, his mind racing. He'd planted the seeds. Now, all that was left was to wait and let Baelish reveal his hand.
1 chapter ahead for free below. 1 Chapter will always be ahead on the pinned post linking to another page. If you want more you can pay $4.50/month for 9 chapters ahead on the story but one chapter will always be ahead in the P@treon page.https://p@treon.com/swattywriterSorry I had to take a long break because of an accident, I heard authors usually have those for no reason but now I believe it. Nothing serious happened just a broken leg and I could not write incest smut while my mom hovered around me (Yes the guy who writes incest is not actually interested in it himself) and was taking care of me
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