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Joffrey's face was twisted with rage, and in the Small Council Chamber thick with the smell of blood, it looked especially vicious.
He glanced at the shattered bones and the pooling blood on the floor, then his mind snapped back to the scene moments ago , Lynn forcing him to his knees.
A humiliation unlike anything he had ever felt rose in his chest.
I am the king. King of the Seven Kingdoms.
How can I kneel for anyone?
He slammed his fist on the table beside him. A dull, heavy thud.
"Joffrey."
A soft voice from behind.
He spun around. Liana stood at the entrance to the Small Council Chamber, wearing a simple white gown, a silver tray in her hands. A glass of milk. A few pieces of dessert.
"You scared me," she said, and walked slowly inside.
She set the tray on a table that hadn't been touched by blood. She didn't look at Pycelle's body on the floor. Her eyes stayed on Joffrey.
"My king." Her voice was full of concern. "What's wrong?"
Joffrey looked at her, and all the anger and grievance in him found somewhere to go.
"I was humiliated! By that Lynn!" He jabbed a finger at the bloodstains on the floor. "He knows my secret!!"
Liana stepped forward and gently took his blood-stained hand. "Your Grace. Please calm yourself."
There was something in her voice , a strange, quiet power that settled over him.
"Do you truly believe Lord Lynn was humiliating you?"
Joffrey's head snapped up. "Wasn't he?"
Liana shook her head. Her eyes held deep understanding. Heartache, even.
"Your Grace , do you remember who it was that insisted, against all opposition, that you should inherit the Iron Throne?"
Joffrey went still.
"It was Lord Lynn."
Liana's voice dropped lower.
"He could have supported someone else. He didn't."
"He chose you."
With every word she spoke, something shifted in Joffrey's eyes. A light returning.
"You... you mean..."
"I mean that Lord Lynn possesses the greatest power in this kingdom. And yet he chose to submit to you." She let that settle. "If you cannot hold this seat, the realm falls to chaos. People suffer and die. But he didn't let that happen, Your Grace."
Her voice stayed gentle.
"He took an enormous risk to stand for you. To vouch for you." She tilted her head slightly. "Isn't that protecting you? Protecting this kingdom?"
"Lord Lynn..." Liana raised her eyes, and they were full of quiet admiration. "He is a truly wise man. He knew that if he hadn't come today — if you had actually killed the Queen Mother — your uncles Stannis and Renly would have marched against you within the week. Every noble in Westeros would have spat on your name."
Her voice softened to almost nothing.
"He was saving you, Your Grace. In his own way, he was helping you hold this kingdom together."
Joffrey stood there, mouth slightly open.
Her words hit him like cold water and warm light at once. Every knot of confusion in his head suddenly came loose.
Yes.
Lynn had dragons. He had the Northern army. He could have declared himself king.
But he didn't.
He knew the secret , and chose to keep it.
He risked himself to stop me from killing my own mother.
He was protecting me.
If not for Liana, he would have suspected Lynn. Would have spent his reign watching his own back. What a fool he'd almost been.
Joffrey's fist clenched.
"I... I understand now!"
He looked at Liana, something raw in his eyes , guilt, gratitude. "You're right. Liana, you truly are my goddess of wisdom." He shook his head. "I misjudged him. He was acting in my interest all along."
He stepped forward and pulled her tightly into his arms. "Only you. Only you truly understand me."
The corner of Liana's mouth curved , barely, briefly, just enough to exist.
"Your Grace," she said, her voice still soft, still steady, "Lord Lynn is your Hand of the King. He is your right arm. Your most solid foundation. With him at your side, you can truly hold the Iron Throne." She paused. "You only need to control him well. Do that, and you will be the greatest king Westeros has ever seen."
Control him?
Joffrey's eyes lit up.
Yes.
Lynn had power. He had wisdom. He had dragons. All Joffrey had to do was use him , and he would be the true king. The real one.
He pulled Liana closer, wanting to hold her tighter, but she slipped out of his grasp without making it obvious.
"You're right! I am the king! I am!"
He looked down at the body on the floor, then at the blood drying on his own hand.
"Guards!" he shouted toward the door. "Clean this up!"
Liana watched the fanaticism and smugness reignite on his face.
Contempt, slow and deep, filled her eyes.
She reached out and stroked his cheek gently.
"Your Grace. You are wise."
---
The Tower of the Hand. The Hand of the King's private residence.
Cersei let Lynn drag her the entire way. She moved like a puppet with no one holding the strings.
Her mind was blank.
Joffrey had wanted to kill her.
Her own son. Her own flesh and blood.
The child she had given everything for.
She had endured Robert's betrayals, his humiliations, his indifference , all for Joffrey. She had done things she would never speak aloud. All for him.
And he had learned the truth, and his hands had gone to her throat without a moment's hesitation.
Her body wouldn't stop shaking.
She had nothing left. She felt it like a physical thing , the world falling away beneath her feet, leaving nothing underneath.
Lynn brought her into the room and let go of her hand. Not gently.
Cersei stumbled, caught herself against the wall. She stood there, staring at nothing.
"From today, you live here." Lynn's voice was calm. Flat. "You don't leave this room without my permission."
She didn't answer. She kept staring at the floor. There was no light in her eyes.
Lynn walked up to her, reached out, and lifted her chin with two fingers.
"What — disappointed?"
There was a trace of amusement on his face. Light, unbothered.
Cersei's eyes moved slightly. She didn't look at him.
"Your son doesn't want you anymore." No emotion in his voice. None at all. "The Lannister name you spent your life on couldn't protect you." He paused. "Everything you had is gone."
Cersei's tears fell without sound.
She felt something tear open in her chest. A clean, merciless rip.
"You have nothing now."
He released her chin.
"Except your daughter. Myrcella."
Cersei's whole body jerked.
Myrcella.
Her daughter.
Lynn's woman.
She looked at him sharply, something desperate and afraid in her eyes. "Why are you bringing her up?"
Lynn smiled. Said nothing.
He walked to the wine cabinet and poured himself a glass of red wine.
"Do you still love her?" His voice was light, almost idle. "Your daughter is my woman now. She's doing very well."
It landed in Cersei's chest like a blow.
She looked at him. Her eyes were full of humiliation and rage and a helplessness that she had no idea what to do with.
She hated him. Hated him for taking everything apart and leaving her standing in the wreckage.
But there was nothing she could do. Not a single thing.
"Don't worry," Lynn said. "I won't mistreat your daughter. She'll have the best life I can give her." He glanced at her. "Assuming you behave."
Cersei's eyes shifted slightly.
She moved to a chair and sat down. It looked like falling more than sitting.
Joffrey was lost to her. She knew that now, completely, with no room left for doubt.
But Lynn had given her something , a thread, thin and humiliating, barely worth calling hope.
She knew exactly what it was. She knew what it cost.
Did she have any other choice?
She still had Myrcella.
She bowed her head, and a single suppressed sob broke from her throat.
Her life, from this moment forward, was a joke. And she had no choice but to keep living it.
➤ Next: Persuading Cersei — Words Unspoken
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