Joffrey

The hall was truly worthy of being the place where the king of the realm would host his guests for breakfast or dinner.

Large windows adorned the walls, and from one side, they offered a splendid view of the rising sun over the sea.

The windows on the opposite side opened into a corridor that extended into a beautifully decorated, colourful garden.

Curtains of fine fabric framed the windows, and the hall's beauty was further enhanced by costly decorative items hung all around its walls.

A massive table, capable of seating nearly fifty people, stood at the centre of the hall, and not an inch of space on it had been left empty.

At the far end of the table opposite Lucas' side, a grand chair different from all the other rather simple chair awaited, obviously meant for the king.

All kinds of expensive dishes and fine wines were set upon the table. It was clear the royal kitchens had gone all out today.

As Lucas strode into the hall, he immediately spotted many familiar faces.

Jon Arryn was seated on the left-hand side of the king's table.

Next to him sat Olenna Tyrell. Ideally, that seat would have been reserved for Lucas himself, but since Olenna was senior in both age and status, she had rightfully claimed it.

The chair next to her was empty, clearly meant for Lucas. And beside that seat should have been Loras Tyrell but no, it was Margaery Tyrell. Not a major matter, yet those with a keen eye would certainly notice. The seat intended for Loras still remained vacant.

Most likely, next to Loras would be Petyr Baelish and Varys, if they attended the breakfast. Grand Maester Pycelle was notably absent. Had he been present, he would have sat beside Jon Arryn.

The right-hand side of the table was completely empty for now. That side was reserved for the king's family, in this case, King Robert's wife Cersei, his children, and his two brothers, Stannis and Renly.

"Cousin," came Cersei's voice as she entered the hall through a side door, bringing Lucas to a halt. Joffrey followed close behind her. Tommen and Myrcella were not present most likely because they were considered too young to attend this breakfast.

Sandor Clegane, the Hound, with his gruesome burn scars gifted to him by his brother Gregor Clegane, trailed behind Joffrey as his sworn sword.

"It is so nice to see you after so long," Cersei said with a delightful smile.

She was beautiful, there was no denying it. Blonde hair, green eyes, and a slim figure with curves in all the right places.

Lucas had met Cersei only a handful of times in his life. She would visit Casterly Rock once every two or three years. Their relationship was ambiguous at best, like ice and fire. Sometimes hot and sometimes cold.

Sometimes Lucas caught her staring at him as if she would like nothing less than to fuck the very bones out of him.

Other times, her gaze held nothing but hatred. What went through her mind, only she knew.

"My queen," Lucas greeted, bowing his head as he extended his hand.

Cersei smiled sweetly and placed her hand in his. Lucas' lips brushed across her knuckles before he let her hand go.

"You do not need to be so formal, Lucas," Cersei said, stepping closer to him.

At that moment, nearly everyone in the hall had their eyes on the two of them.

"A queen must be greeted with all the respect she deserves, cousin," Lucas replied, his neck tilting slightly as his gaze shifted to that little piece of shit Joffrey.

"Joffrey," he said. His voice was neither enthusiastic nor dull, neither overly respectful nor disrespectful. It was simply plain and neutral.

"You are the one who is going to install whatever it is that spews water in the castle, and then clean the city and get rid of the smell?" Those were the words that left Joffrey's mouth.

"Do it well, and first of all, do it in my chambers," Joffrey cackled like an idiot. No, not like an idiot. He was an idiot. A total fool.

"If you do it properly, I might even toss you a few extra gold coins."

He crackled at his own joke, hoping the others would join in, but everyone merely stared at him, seeing him for the arrogant fool he was.

At that moment, expressions of sheer shock and surprise spread across the faces in the hall. Joffrey was not insulting some nameless roadside clown.

He was mocking Lucas Lannister. Even the usually arrogant Cersei seemed slightly tense.

"Joffrey," she said with a sweet smile, "you might not know who he is. He is your uncle. He is son of grandfather Kevan."

Of course he did. Joffrey had almost never visited Casterly Rock. Tywin Lannister would not tolerate his childish tantrums and casual cruelty. The old lion was one man Joffrey feared and did his best to avoid at all costs.

But that did not mean Joffrey did not know about Lucas. It was impossible not to know.

"Uncle?" Joffrey sneered in contempt. "He does not seem half a Lannister. What kind of Lannister goes on cleaning sewage and human waste?"

At this, everyone heard the sound of metal sliding against metal. It was Gary. His hand was on the hilt, and an inch of his sword was already out of its scabbard. Though not fully drawn, the message could not have been clearer. Gary did not care that the person he stood against was the prince of the realm. For him, loyalty to Lucas was all that mattered.

"Joffrey," Lucas said, taking a step toward him, while a slight gesture of his hand stopped Gary from moving further.

"I may forgive this as a childish tantrum," he continued, his cold voice cutting through the silence of the hall like freezing ice.

"But you would do well to remember that I am not a servant in the crown's employ. Nor am I a lord grovelling on my knees for the favour of the crown."

"I do not mince words," he drawled, leaning forward. Joffrey instinctively stepped back. "So, dare to speak to me in that manner one more time."

Before anyone could fully grasp the warning, there was the shrill hiss of a sword being drawn. No one saw his movement. No one reacted in time.

Lucas' blade rested against Joffrey's neck. A slight push, and blood would have trickled down the little shit's throat.

The Hound, Sandor Clegane, standing behind Joffrey, had his hand placed on the hilt of his sword but did not draw. His wary eyes remained fixed on Lucas.

Lucas' own eyes narrowed.

"Ser Gary," he said coldly, "if the Hound so much as dares to draw his sword, behead him."

"I will nail his head to the front gates of Casterly Rock. Although I do not like his dog of a brother, I am sure Gregor will enjoy that sight."

"Gladly," Gary replied with a smirk.

At any other time, most people might have laughed at the idea of a single man challenging the Hound. But at this moment, Lucas' sheer confidence, his very presence was pressing down on everyone in the hall.

No one doubted his words. And no one dared to move.

Joffrey had his eyes bulged in shock. In terror. He could not believe that someone could threaten him. The prince of the realm. The future king of the realm.

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