Game of Thrones: I Created the Magic Web

#191 - The grudge of the illegitimate child

“Spare Lord Renly’s life.”

Edric fell to his knees with a thud, earnestly pleading.

“He is guilty! Yes, Lord Renly’s rebellion is undeniable. The gods above and the laws of men will judge his guilt and deliver punishment.”

Edric’s voice trembled with sorrow.

“But he is your uncle, after all. Family by blood, a true Baratheon.”

Joffrey chuckled. “Is that so? Now I’m a true Baratheon. Renly didn’t say that before.”

Edric had heard the rumors.

“Yes, Your Grace. Lord Renly’s transgressions are unforgivable.”

“I only beg Your Grace to grant a sliver of pardon, just a sliver. Something that doesn’t violate the law but saves you from the stain of kinslaying.”

“Kinslaying” was a great taboo in Westeros. People passed down the belief that kinslayers would be forever scorned by the world. Both the old gods and the new would eternally curse them.

Joffrey didn’t care about that. Killing one was the same as killing two. Was he supposed to fear stacked curses and deepened harm?

Renly indeed didn’t need to die, but certainly not out of fear of a curse.

As for this bastard, he had been thinking of letting this insignificant boy go, but now it seemed he was also a restless fellow.

He stared coldly at Edric.

“Are you threatening me?”

“He doesn’t mean that, Your Grace,” Cortnay Penrose couldn’t help but interject.

“Then what does he mean?!” Joffrey completely dropped his smile. “Edric, who do you think you are? Daring to try to influence affairs of state!?”

The atmosphere suddenly turned heavy.

Cortnay Penrose’s next words were immediately choked back.

Joffrey’s tone was sharp. “Don’t think that just because you bear the name ‘Storm’ it means anything! It means nothing! You’re just a bastard! The shame of Delena Florent! She has a husband and children of her own!”

Harsh words filled the entire room.

Edric knelt on the ground, trembling. Sorrow, shame, fear, and anger surged together, blanking his mind.

Bastard! Shame!

Edric tried to ignore the unfair treatment and strange looks. However, ignoring didn’t mean it didn’t exist, didn’t mean he truly didn’t know.

Edric knew.

He was born on Dragonstone, the seat of Duke Stannis, but was regarded as a stain on his honor, tossed like a burden to Duke Renly at Storm’s End. He only learned this later by eavesdropping on the servants’ gossip.

His memories had always been of Storm’s End.

Fortunately, life here was not bad. Although he had only ever known this one life, at least he could laugh.

Duke Renly had always been kind and treated him no differently. Although as Master of Laws, he rarely returned to Storm’s End, he would always bring Edric gifts whenever he did.

Despite this, Edric still didn’t dare call him “Uncle.” He couldn’t imagine what terrible reaction that might provoke.

He shouldn’t expect any changes. Things were good as they were.

Ser Cortnay took great care of him, like an affectionate father, and no one in the castle dared to bully him. Later, they gradually became close friends.

Each nameday was also a rare day of joy.

His father would send gifts on time: a pony, a sable cloak, a small warhammer, never forgetting each year.

Taking this opportunity, Edric would also carefully write a letter to King’s Landing, thanking his father for his concern and expressing his longing.

At such times, he couldn’t help but feel expectant.

Perhaps one day his father would personally appear at Storm’s End and take him back to King’s Landing.

Of course, he didn’t dare to hope for more.

He didn’t even dare to have too much hope for the small wish of returning to King’s Landing.

Everything in Edric’s life remained Storm’s End and the people in this fortress. He tried to live each day well, using sincerity and smiles to gradually win back the affection of everyone in the castle.

But now, in just half a day, all his efforts had turned to nothing.

The soldiers who had trained or competed together had become corpses and prisoners, the familiar cooks and maids had eyes full of fear and dread, the castle was broken, and the enemy had occupied every hall.

And he had merely followed his heart, pleading for Lord Renly, and was actually…

Edric bit his lip tightly, his eyes welling up.

Cortnay Penrose saw it clearly but was helpless, and could only keep begging the king for forgiveness.

Joffrey completely ignored Cortnay Penrose and continued to hammer at Edric.

“You wouldn’t still be thinking you could move into the Red Keep in a grand fashion, would you? No way, right? Are you really that ignorant? Who gave you that delusion?”

Edric suddenly stubbornly raised his head, not saying a word, his eyes both firm and fragile.

“I remember,” Joffrey shook his head. “It’s because of those gifts, isn’t it? The so-called gifts sent by your father.”

Edric couldn’t help but be stunned.

Joffrey smiled, still not planning to let him go. “Those were all done by ‘Varys the Spider’ under the pretense of your father’s name. All the gifts you received were just part of Varys’s conspiracy. Your father never knew!”

Edric’s pupils instantly dilated, filled with despair and suspicion.

“No… it’s not like that…”

Edric finally couldn’t help but open his mouth to resist, but his voice was clearly weak and powerless, without any force.

“You’ve written many letters, haven’t you, so-called letters of thanks. Have you received any replies? Even just a few words?” Joffrey delivered the final blow.

The truth was so cruel.

Although King Robert had reluctantly acknowledged Edric’s bloodline due to reality, he had never truly cared about him.

Robert Baratheon, addicted to wine and women, didn’t even care much about national affairs and the queen and princes. How could he remember a bastard born from a drunken fling?

Edric had to face reality.

Replies? He could have ignored this doubt in the past, but now, the suspicion was nakedly revealed: there had never been a reply!

He finally broke down.

“No! I am the king’s son! My father is Robert Baratheon!”

Edric Storm shouted this proud and shameful fact hoarsely, as if denouncing his past tragic experiences, and also as if declaring the rights and status he should have obtained.

Cortnay Penrose felt a sense of foreboding.

But as soon as he opened his mouth, the king swept his eyes over him, and Cortnay Penrose immediately stiffened, unable to move.

Edric Storm was still immersed in intense emotions. “I am King Robert’s son! My father acknowledged me! I have a surname! I should live in the Red Keep, call you brother, not Your Grace! I still have younger brothers and sisters…”

Joffrey quietly listened to the other party’s presumptuous words, expressionless, but with a smile in his eyes.

Speak, speak your fill. The price is everything.

In Cortnay Penrose’s desperate eyes, Edric Storm vented for a long time, finally regaining his senses.

Remembering what had just happened, he knelt down again, trembling all over.

Joffrey sighed faintly, “A bastard, actually wanting to live in the Red Keep. Tell me, what should I do with you?”

Edric couldn’t respond.

Joffrey turned to Cortnay Penrose, “You two seem to have a good relationship. Perhaps you can make some compensation for his offense?”

The king’s eyes were full of meaning.

In the end.

Cortnay Penrose lowered his head.

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

Tap the screen to use advanced tools Tip: You can use left and right keyboard keys to browse between chapters.

You'll Also Like