Joffrey watched the vivid scene unfold before him, feeling his breath grow hot.
These women, whom Cersei had described as filthy beyond measure—how could they look like this?
Was this right?
Their skin was fairer than the highest-born ladies of the Red Keep, their smiles sweeter than honey.
Their eyes... like little hooks, capable of stealing a man's soul!
It was completely different from what he had imagined.
This wasn't a filthy den; it was practically a paradise built of desire and gold.
"Ros."
Lynn spoke lightly to the red-haired woman who approached them.
"This is my best friend."
Lynn's hand remained on Joffrey's shoulder.
That steady strength calmed Joffrey's wildly beating heart significantly.
"His status is noble, and his standards... are very high."
Lynn's gaze swept over Ros's shrewd yet charming face, his tone carrying an unquestionable command.
"Find the cleanest, gentlest, most sensible girl."
"Make her understand that tonight she is not serving an ordinary guest."
"But a future lion."
A future lion.
Ros's heart skipped a beat.
Her success in running this gold mine relied on far more than just beauty.
She instantly understood the profound meaning in Lynn's words.
This "friend" Lynn brought—who looked a bit immature, yet whose eyes held an innate arrogance and cruelty—was definitely someone of extraordinary status.
Perhaps even...
Ros dared not think further.
Her smile grew even more ingratiating, her expressive eyes written with 'I understand'.
"Rest assured, my Lord."
Ros cast a flirtatious wink at Joffrey.
Her alluring manner made Joffrey's cheeks heat up, and he instinctively puffed out his chest.
"My girls may lack other skills, but they know how to pamper a man."
"I guarantee your friend will experience what it means to be treated like a King."
Swaying her hips, she led the two through the noisy hall up a staircase covered in thick velvet carpet, to the most secluded and luxurious suite on the third floor.
Expensive incense burned in the room, the warm air filled with an ambiguous scent that made one's bones feel soft.
"Please wait a moment, my Lords."
Ros curtsied and tactfully withdrew, closing the door behind her.
Only Lynn and Joffrey remained in the room.
Joffrey seemed a bit uneasy, like a cub entering a hunting ground for the first time—excited yet nervous.
He walked to the window, looking down at the men and women reveling below, his Adam's apple bobbing uncontrollably.
"Lynn..."
Joffrey spoke uncertainly.
"Is this place... really safe?"
"It's my property. You tell me if it's safe."
Lynn poured himself a glass of Dornish red wine, sitting leisurely on the soft sofa.
"Besides, here, you are not a Prince, and I am no longer an Earl."
"We are just two men looking for fun."
"The only thing you need to worry about is whether you'll be able to walk tomorrow morning."
Lynn's words carried a tacit teasing between adult men, instantly inflating Joffrey's pitiful ego.
"I... of course I'll be fine!"
He retorted, fierce in appearance but weak inside.
Just then, there was a soft knock on the door.
A soft, feminine voice came from outside.
"My Lord, may I come in?"
"Come in."
Lynn said indifferently.
The door was pushed open, and a figure walked in gracefully.
Joffrey turned to look instinctively.
In that instant, his breath stopped.
Walking in was a young girl wearing a sheer, pale violet dress.
She looked no older than sixteen or seventeen. Her golden hair cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall, glowing softly in the candlelight.
Her features were as exquisite as a statue, her skin so pale it was almost transparent.
A pair of sky-blue eyes, like the purest lake in summer, clear to the bottom.
She had no body odor, nor the cheap scent of common powder, only a fresh aura like grass after rain.
She looked more like a noble lady raised in a deep boudoir, ignorant of worldly affairs.
Putting aside status, she looked even more beautiful than Sansa Stark, purer than Myrcella.
"My Lord."
The girl walked up to Lynn and curtsied elegantly, her voice as pleasant as a spring flowing over stones.
"Her name is Liana."
Lynn pointed to Joffrey beside him.
"Tonight, he is in your care."
"Yes, my Lord."
Liana looked up, her gaze shifting to Joffrey.
When she saw Joffrey's face clearly, her clear blue eyes instantly blossomed with a look of disbelief, surprise, and adoration.
Her small mouth opened slightly, as if she had seen an incredible miracle.
"Oh my..."
Liana let out a dreamlike gasp, instinctively covering her mouth with her hand.
"You... you are..."
Her voice was trembling.
And so was her body.
Her beautiful eyes were filled with undisguised admiration and infatuation.
Joffrey was a bit overwhelmed by her gaze.
He was used to people fearing him, fawning over him, but no one had ever looked at him with such... pilgrimage-like eyes.
Like those commoners looking at statues of the Seven!
"What?"
"Do you have other thoughts?"
Lynn chuckled from the side.
"No... no..."
Liana shook her head hurriedly, a moving blush rising on her cheeks from excitement.
She looked at Joffrey and stammered:
"I... I have seen you..."
"At the tourney, you were sitting beside His Grace the King... you were as dazzling as the sun..."
"I... I never thought I would be able to... to look at you this closely..."
Her voice was full of maidenly shyness and sincerity. That heartfelt adoration was something no acting could fake.
In that instant, Joffrey's heart felt as if it had been gently stroked by a warm hand.
His heart, hardened and twisted by years of neglect and ridicule, actually cracked slightly.
"Alright, my task is done."
Lynn stood up and drained the last of the red wine in his glass.
He walked to the door, glancing back at Joffrey, whose heart had been completely captured by Liana, the corners of his mouth curving into an imperceptible arc.
Then, Lynn nodded slightly to Liana.
"Enjoy yourself, Your Grace."
"It's on me tonight."
With that, Lynn opened the door and walked out, leaving the whole world to the two people in the room.
The moment the door closed, Joffrey felt his heart beat faster.
He looked at Liana before him.
This dreamlike girl was staring at him obsessively with eyes full of worship and love.
"You... you must be Prince Joffrey, right?"
Liana's voice held a trace of uncertainty, as if confirming the reality of a beautiful dream.
Joffrey cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound more majestic.
"That's right, I am Joffrey."
"Seven Hells!"
Liana let out a happy sigh.
She walked carefully up to Joffrey, her movements as light as a butterfly.
"Can I... can I touch your hand?"
She asked in a near-pleading tone, her blue eyes full of expectation.
Joffrey paused, but almost magically extended his hand.
Liana reached out with her soft, boneless little hand and gently held Joffrey's.
Her fingertips traced the thin calluses on his palm, traces left by his recent insistence on practicing swordsmanship.
"Your hand... is so strong..."
A drunk blush appeared on Liana's face.
"This... this must be the result of years of sword practice, right?"
"I have never seen a warrior as handsome and powerful as you..."
"Even the heroes in the bard's songs would pale in comparison to you."
Her voice was soft and gentle, every word like magic, precisely hitting the place in Joffrey's heart that craved recognition most.
Strong?
Warrior?
Joffrey felt a little dizzy.
His father Robert always cursed him as a coward who only played with crossbows.
His sword master, Ser Meryn Trant of the Kingsguard, only taught him perfunctorily.
No one had ever used such words to describe him.
"I... of course I am a warrior!"
Joffrey's chest puffed out uncontrollably higher.
"I practice swordsmanship every day!"
"And one day, I will be stronger than my father!"
"I believe you!"
Liana nodded vigorously, determined light shining in her blue eyes.
"You are a born King, the rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms, the Lion destined to rule!"
She released Joffrey's hand and moved behind him, using her soft hands to gently massage his shoulders.
The force was just right, carrying a strange magic that instantly relaxed Joffrey's tense body.
"Your Grace, you must be tired, right?"
"Let me serve you in bathing and changing, alright?"
Her voice was like a bewitching spell Joffrey simply couldn't refuse.
Like a puppet, he let Liana remove his plain cloak and unbutton his clothes.
When he stood naked in the warm bath, feeling her soft hands gently scrubbing his body, Joffrey felt as if he were in the clouds.
He had never had such an experience.
When the maids in the Red Keep served him, it was always with fear and distance.
His mother Cersei, though she loved him, loved him with a suffocating desire for control.
Only Liana.
In her eyes, there was no fear, no calculation.
Only pure, unreserved worship and love.
She praised Joffrey's "strong" body, his "handsome" face, his innate "kingly aura."
In her mouth, Joffrey was no longer the unruly prince disliked by his father and slighted by his subjects.
He was a god about to rule the world.
Joffrey sank completely.
He began to brag endlessly about his "heroic deeds."
He told her how he heroically "repelled" the mob on the streets of King's Landing.
He told her how he accurately hit a peasant a hundred paces away with a crossbow.
He whitewashed all his cruelty and stupidity into decisiveness and wisdom.
And Liana remained the most loyal listener.
Looking at him with the most adoring eyes, praising him with the most beautiful words, she satisfied all of Joffrey's deepest fantasies about heroism and power.
That night.
Joffrey felt he had truly lived for the first time.
He was no longer someone's son, someone's prince.
He was a man, a conqueror, a true King!
---
The next morning.
When the first ray of sunlight hit his face through the window, Joffrey slowly opened his eyes.
There was no headache from a hangover, replaced by an unprecedented refreshment.
He felt his body full of strength, as if he could kill a lion with one punch.
He turned his head and saw Liana sleeping beside him.
The girl lay on her side, golden hair spread over the pillow, long eyelashes casting a quiet shadow in the morning light.
She slept deeply, a satisfied, sweet smile still on her lips.
Looking at her pure, flawless sleeping face, a strong possessiveness surged in Joffrey's heart.
This woman was his.
The first woman in the world who truly understood, appreciated, and worshipped him.
He sat up carefully, not wanting to wake her.
He dressed and walked out the door, where Lynn was already waiting.
"Your Grace, did you sleep well last night?"
Lynn's face wore a knowing smile.
"Good... very good!"
Joffrey answered instinctively, cheeks a bit hot.
"This is the life of a King, isn't it?"
Lynn patted his shoulder.
"The Iron Throne is responsibility, and this is enjoying the fruits of power."
"Only a King who truly knows how to enjoy power can exercise power better."
Joffrey nodded, seemingly understanding, but he fully agreed with Lynn.
Wasn't power for enjoyment?
Otherwise, what was the use of power?
Last night's experience gave Joffrey more satisfaction and happiness than sitting on the Iron Throne receiving the worship of thousands.
"Ser Lynn... my best friend..."
Joffrey hesitated but couldn't help asking.
"When... when can I come again?"
He couldn't wait to see Liana again.
To experience that feeling of being worshipped, looked up to, and served like a god again.
He had tasted the marrow and was completely addicted.
Lynn smiled.
The little fish has taken the hook.
"Of course you can, Your Grace."
Lynn's gaze deepened.
He looked at Joffrey's face full of longing and spoke slowly.
"Whenever Your Grace wishes, you can come every day."
Lynn changed the subject, speaking with some pity.
"Liana lost her parents when she was young, lonely and destitute."
"A poor girl forced onto a path of no return for survival."
"If Your Grace wants to see her, you'll need to make a reservation in advance."
"After all, she has other guests to receive."
Watching Joffrey's face gradually darken, Lynn knew his goal had been achieved.
He chuckled lightly and turned to leave.