Chapter 769: The Lover

Robb and his companions drank until they were red-faced and drunk. Meanwhile, in the Maidenvault of the Red Keep, the little rose Miss Margaery Tyrell, who was constantly on Robb's mind, was there at this moment.

As the most orthodox imperial palace, the Red Keep contained several banquet halls large and small. Many people could freely enter and leave the outlying areas of the Red Keep.

But at the very heart of the Red Keep, the Maidenvault was the royal living quarters, an enormous square fortress. It had twelve-foot thick walls and a dry moat lined with iron spikes protecting it.

Security was extremely tight at the Maidenvault. There were guards every five paces and sentries every ten paces, strictly forbidding outsiders from entering to prevent assassins from sneaking in.

Yet now, a naked girl draped in splendid silks was sprawled on her belly atop a soft feather bed, wiggling a pair of fair bare feet in the air.

This was the imperial bedchambers within the Maidenvault of the Red Keep.

And the girl lying atop this bed belonging to the imperial couple had smooth brown curls spilling over slim fair shoulders. Her large limpid eyes were half-lidded, slender white arms propping up her body.

Golden yellow silks covered up her vital areas, but showed off her graceful curves and exquisite figure.

She was the girl who was always on Robb's mind—known as the "Little Rose", Miss Margaery Tyrell.

She lay naked upon the messy bed. White gauze curtains fluttered gently in the breeze. Sunshine from outside the window happened to fall upon her calves and cute little feet. She stretched lazily, like a cat napping in the afternoon sun.

Then Margaery's bright eyes blinked, gazing affectionately at Viserys beside her, also with loose hair, wearing a loose robe.

Right now the supreme emperor of the empire sat at a desk nearby, flipping through a book to pass the time in his leisure.

His long silver-gold hair cascaded freely about his shoulders. His loose robes gave glimpse of the powerful chest beneath, still bearing a faint red scratch mark—likely given by a certain conquered kitten in the throes of what the Red Temple claimed was 'unity of man and god', being able to communicate with the divine in an unconscious state.

Margaery was one of Visery's secret lovers. They had maintained this relationship for over a year now.

With House Targaryen having collectively moved from the Red Keep to Highgarden, the Red Keep stood empty. Whenever Viserys returned, Margaery would secretly come to the Red Keep from the tunnels to accompany His Majesty under arrangements by his Master of Whisperers.

Thanks to the meticulous coverup by the whisperers, nobody outside had any clue of Miss Margaery Tyrell of House Tyrell's improper relations with His Imperial Majesty.

Even Viserys' personal squire, Robb Stark, was completely unaware. Viserys had kindly reminded Robb before that Margaery was not suitable for him and he should marry a northern girl, yet Robb similarly paid his words no heed.

The youth who had just passed his coming-of-age was still deeply mired in the emotional whirlpool, ignorant of the sinister ways of the adult world.

"I think you should speak to His Grace directly."

"There's a saying... what was it, something about how rabbits don't eat grass around their burrows?"

"Why's that?"

"Why?"

The dark-skinned, golden-eyed girl wearing a gold-rimmed monocle scratched her head, puzzled.

"I'm not too clear about it either."

"Probably that if rabbits eat up all the grass around their burrow, their burrow won't stay hidden well?"

This was part of the conversation between Daenerys and her best friend from Naath, Missandei.

As young maidens newly exploring these feelings, they could not keep their troubles locked inside. Though unwilling to confide her worries to Missandei initially, Daenerys was ferreted out in the end by the highly intelligent girl and ended up pouring out everything in her heart, hoping her good friend could give her some ideas.

Though Missandei's academic performance was excellent with high IQ, she also lacked experience in this area, momentarily left rather nonplussed.

But as a Naathi who had read extensively in the academy, Missandei still had a bellyful of learning. After scratching her head for a long time, she finally gave Daenerys a suggestion—to speak to His Grace directly, based on Missandei's 'rabbit theory'. Perhaps they knew each other too well to actually make a move?

At present, Daenerys was taking Missandei's suggestion. She had gathered her courage, riding her dragon Viserion to King's Landing in order to talk it out face to face with her brother.

Highgarden and King's Landing were not far apart. It took only about half a day to fly there on dragonback. That was why Viserys could so frequently commute between the two places.

"Your Highness."

"Your Highness."

The silver-haired girl riding a silver filly entered the Red Keep. Naturally the Unsullied guards at the gates would not obstruct her way.

"Your Highness."

Dismounting after entering the Red Keep, a golden-haired attendant immediately came forward to take her reins and lead the horse to the stables.

Head lowered, the golden-haired attendant accepted the reins, seemingly unwilling to let Daenerys see his face.

Yet she still caught sight of it.

"You're..."

Daenerys stared at the somewhat familiar face, not recalling too clearly but still recognizing his identity.

The attendant was tall but looked somewhat scrawny from thinness. He had golden hair and rather comely features, but hunched shoulders and lowered head lent him a cowering air, spoiling the overall impression—completely like a stableboy.

"You're..."

"Prince Joffrey?"

Daenerys placed his identity, it was that boy from their childhood who had bullied her and Missandei but got thrashed by Theon Greyjoy.

It was said he used to be a prince, son of that false king who had usurped her father's throne. But she later heard things had changed. Joffrey was not King Robert's son, but the bastard of the former queen and Daenerys' own younger brother instead.

"Joffrey Waters!"

"Princess!"

"I'm Joffrey Waters!"

At Daenerys' words, the golden-haired stableboy gave a small start. Somewhat agitated, he hastened to explain.

He stood a head taller than Daenerys but still shrank away timidly. Daenerys could even see the profound fear and avoidance in his eyes.

He was terrified of his former identity, desperately hoping that he and all around him could forget it.

Yet sadly for Joffrey, while he could make himself forget, he had no way of making others forget too. Each time it was brought up, whether good or ill, it was traumatic for him—becoming a demon haunting his psyche.