Game of Thrones: I Created the Magic Web

Chapter 10: The Boy in the Throne Room

After lunch, Joffrey wandered into the Throne Room, which was near the main gate of the Red Keep.

Seeing the commoners gathered outside the door to make their petitions, he was suddenly intrigued and immediately had the Hound clear a path through the dense crowd.

Normally, the king should be sitting on the Iron Throne in the Throne Room at this time, listening to the people's petitions and appeals, upholding justice, and announcing judgments.

King Robert was clearly not one to do so.

Hunting in the Kingswood across the river occupied most of the king's time, and these trivial matters were handled daily by the "Hand of the King," Prime Minister Jon Arryn.

Stepping into the Throne Room, the terrifying Iron Throne on the high platform immediately dominated Joffrey's view.

Nearly three hundred years ago, Aegon the Conqueror of the Targaryen family first unified the Seven Kingdoms.

Balerion the Black Dread, his dragon, spewed dragonflame, melting all the blades offered by those who submitted during the Conquest.

The Iron Throne, full of spikes, sharp corners, twisted metal, and symbolizing the authority of the throne, was born.

The Dragon King Aegon also left a famous saying: "A king should never sit easy."

It sounded cool. But really facing this throne, Joffrey suddenly understood the pain of those Targaryen kings.

Unable to lean back, constantly careful of the sharp blades around, it was simply torture.

Joffrey would not wrong himself. How could the king's throne be this kind of thing? He would replace it sooner or later!

After admiring the Iron Throne, Joffrey, meeting the gazes of the crowd, walked straight forward on the dragon-fire patterned tiles in the center of the hall.

At this time, the Throne Room was in recess, and the next batch of petitioners was still waiting to be summoned.

Jon Arryn sat upright on the Iron Throne.

The Kingsguard, Mandon Moore and Meryn Trant, stood on either side of the high platform.

At the council table below the throne steps sat five members of the Small Council: Lord Renly Baratheon, Master of Laws; Lord Stannis Baratheon, Master of Ships; Lord Petyr Baelish, Master of Coin; Grand Maester Pycelle; and Lord Varys, Master of Whisperers.

The giant dragon skulls that once hung high on the walls on both sides had long been replaced with tapestries depicting King Robert's hunting scenes.

Beneath the tapestries stood hundreds of knights, nobles, and ladies.

The audience stood in the inner corridors on both sides. On the innermost side were two rows of "Gold Cloaks" maintaining order, each fully armed and wearing a golden cloak, looking very impressive.

Varys asked on behalf of the crowd, knowingly, "Your Royal Highness, Prince Joffrey, what brings you here to inspect today?"

Joffrey maintained a proper smile. Usually charming, but acting foolishly and cruelly, that was typical of "him."

"Nothing, I just suddenly wanted to see the petitions, to learn in advance."

The day he sat on the Iron Throne would be much sooner than people expected.

Joffrey calmly scanned the people in front of him.

The old and vigorous Prime Minister was expressionless, the bald-headed Uncle Stannis had sharp eyes, and the attitudes of the others seemed very friendly.

The Prime Minister and Uncle were undoubtedly enemies, but others were not to be trusted either.

"My lords, is there a seat for me here? Surely the Crown Prince can't be made to stand."

Joffrey behaved politely and with restraint, which would have been better if he hadn't added the last sentence. The faces of all those standing changed slightly.

Jon Arryn spoke, "Prepare a seat for His Royal Highness, the one embroidered with the crowned stag."

The King's stag, too bad you aren't one, Joffrey Waters?

Bastards born in the Crownlands were uniformly given the surname Waters, but Jon Arryn wasn't sure if that included the product of incestuous twins.

He could only silently tell himself that now was not the time.

Although he had confirmed Joffrey's parentage and chosen to support Stannis as the heir to the Iron Throne, Jon still had to put on a good show.

Prime Minister Jon tried his best to suppress his disgust.

As long as he found conclusive evidence, handled Robert's emotions and the Lannister family well, the kingdom could get rid of the filthy incestuous bloodline and return to the right path.

He prayed secretly, hoping that the documents he reviewed tomorrow would be helpful.

Joffrey sat alone between the Iron Throne and the council table, attending as an observer. This seemed to imply that he could not express his opinions here.

The herald announced loudly, "Let the petitions continue."

Several merchants walked in, humbly kneeling before the Iron Throne.

"Reporting to the Hand of the King, my lords, the five of us are representatives of the weapons merchants of Steel Street. Recently…"

Joffrey paid no more attention to them.

Most of the time, the Throne Room only served as the political center of King's Landing, dealing with the affairs of hundreds of thousands of people, far from the image of the national center he had in mind.

The main reason he came in was to see how his future opponents would perform on formal occasions before he left King's Landing.

After listening to the petition, the Master of Coin, Littlefinger, spoke first, his tone lazy and playful.

"The price of pig iron has doubled, surely that can't be blamed on the Iron Throne? Or do you expect the treasury to subsidize you?"

The leading merchant shook his head quickly, "How dare we? It's just that the market has been very stable recently, and suddenly it's like this, there may be someone causing trouble behind the scenes."

The Master of Laws, Renly, chuckled, "Varys, it's your turn. Do your little birds know this secret?"

The eunuch stroked the smooth, sea-blue silk on his body and responded casually, "Perhaps our Lord Petyr can also provide an answer."

Joffrey's lips curved. Littlefinger was actually being accused, interesting.

But Littlefinger seemed not to have understood Varys's hint at all, "That's strange, how could I be more informed than the 'Spider'?"

No one spoke now.

After a brief silence, the Hand of the King stood up from the Iron Throne.

"Very well. In the name of the king, Petyr is responsible for restoring the price of pig iron to normal within two weeks. Does anyone object?"

Lord Petyr bowed and accepted the order.

"As you command. Your subordinate will do everything possible to find out the mastermind behind the scenes and restore a satisfactory business environment to the steel market."

The merchants could not say anything, so they had to retreat with gratitude.

Joffrey saw it clearly.

The Throne Room was just going through the motions. The outcome of the weapons merchants' complaints had already been decided. As long as Littlefinger did not fall, this trivial matter was just a matter of stopping for a limited time for him.

The merchants could not see the situation clearly, and none of the people present were their backers, so they had to suffer a little.

In the following petitions, Joffrey watched coldly, gaining a good understanding of the conflicts of interest and intrigues of the feudal era.

The differences in the boundaries of cultivated land between farmers outside the city, the compensation for fights in taverns, the knight who felt insulted demanding severe punishment for the other party, the two small lords of the Crownlands accusing each other of encroaching on land…

Until the setting sun shone on the crimson tiles of the Throne Room.

The last petitioning group entered.

"My lords, please do us justice," a middle-aged woman in gorgeous clothes cried on her knees.

"It's all this little bastard and his whore mother!" She pointed excitedly at a mother and son embracing next to her.

"Everyone understands the principle of a life for a life. Originally, there was no need to trouble you noble lords, but this bastard actually threatened with a knife, insisting that the Iron Throne make a judgment before he would give up."

"He even wanted to bring the knife into the court!"

The clerk at the council table explained the details to the ministers.

The murdered Ser Alf Rollysford was the husband of the petitioning woman.

Alf died in the room of the prostitute Loryn while visiting a brothel, killed with a single knife thrust. She had already admitted that she could not bear Alf's torment and took action.

Rumor had it that Ser Alf did have some unspeakable special habits.

Joffrey sized up the mother and son.

The mother's color had faded, her skin was dull, and her thin linen clothes were covered with bruises and scars.

Although she was accused of murder, she spoke calmly as if she were chatting about everyday life, and it was clear that she was a person with a story.

The son, a teenager, held his mother's arm tightly. His face was gloomy and numb, and his turbid eyes showed a strong hope.

Varys sighed repeatedly.

"Oh, such a tragedy, but alas, the law does not allow for sentimentality, alas, how can one bear it. What does the Grand Maester think?"

The eighty-year-old Grand Maester Pycelle kept his head very low, as if he could not bear the heavy weight of the scholar's chain made of twenty-four kinds of metal pieces around his neck, or as if he was asleep.

"Hmm, indeed, that's what the law says. This situation, ah, probably no exception. But, it still depends on Lord Renly, um, what his attitude is."

The Grand Maester's uhs and ahs made people worry about whether he was sober enough.

The Master of Laws, Renly, frowned and hesitated to say: "The law is certainly strict, but the reasons are complex. Perhaps, Loryn can be allowed to atone for her crime with lifelong labor, so as not to create more suffering."

The kneeling teenager looked up at his benefactor, and the hope in his eyes became even stronger.

The handsome and benevolent Renly was like King Robert in his youth, always able to win people's hearts and love.

Stannis had always disliked Renly's indulgence in legal matters.

"The law is the law! Evil deeds cannot be offset, and murderers must pay with their lives. Moreover, isn't that what prostitutes do? Therefore, killing people does not deserve mercy at all!"

The teenager turned his head stiffly and stared at Stannis. As soon as he opened his mouth, his mother immediately hugged him tightly.

"You kind lords, I confess my guilt. I only ask that you forgive my poor son. He was just too scared and didn't want to hurt anyone with a knife."

Renly no longer pleaded.

After a few breaths, the Hand of the King stood up.

"Guards, step forward. In the name of the king, I sentence the murderer Loryn to death, to be carried out immediately."

"Today's petitions are over."

Joffrey saw the mother whisper a few words in her son's ear. Without struggling, she followed the execution guards out of the Throne Room and headed towards the outer wall of the Red Keep.

The day's work was over.

People gradually dispersed.

Renly sighed as he walked out, not forgetting to throw a gold dragon to the helpless teenager.

The upright Stannis only gave him a cold snort.

Prostitutes and bastards should not exist. The law is the law, and I am Robert's legitimate heir, not that abomination that the gods cannot tolerate!

Joffrey walked very steadily.

He calmly passed the teenager's huddled and motionless figure.

Perhaps another layer of insurance could be added.

Warm reminder: The website is about to be revised, which may cause the loss of reading progress. Please save your "bookshelf" and "reading records" in time (it is recommended to save screenshots). We apologize for the inconvenience!