"Arrrgh!"
Robert slammed a chunk of bread down onto the dining table so hard that Joffrey's sausages bounced off his plate and rolled across the white tablecloth.
"Lysa is the Lady of Vale . Jon Arryn's widow. Where does she get the nerve to lie with another man?"
The king's roar echoed through the dining hall. The candle flames on the walls flickered wildly.
"The whole city is gossiping. They're saying that sickly boy is some nameless bastard."
"He's the Hand's son! My foster father's blood!"
"I swore I would protect him!"
It was clear this dinner was doomed from the start.
Joffrey calmly picked up the sausage and placed it back onto his silver plate, as if none of this had anything to do with him.
Robert's blue eyes burned with fury as he stared at the purple-robed figure standing nearby.
"Spider! This damned rumor—what gutter did it crawl out of? Have you found out?"
Varys folded his hands inside his sleeves and bowed slightly. His smooth bald head gleamed red under the firelight.
"Your Grace, the people of King's Landing have always loved stories. Especially those involving noble ladies, secret lovers, and questionable heirs."
"And this particular tale is rootless. Rumors like that spread easier than breathing."
His voice was soft and sincere.
"My little birds may be many, but even they cannot trace which sewer this particular rat crawled from."
"Excuses!" Robert snapped. "What good are you, then?"
Before Varys could reply, a cold and proud voice cut through the tension.
"Perhaps we should focus on the deeper danger hidden within the rumor."
Cersei's eyes were sharp as needles.
"Your Grace, this story reveals something truly disgusting."
"Whispers about Lysa Tully are already everywhere in King's Landing. Soon they will spread across all Seven Kingdoms.
How can a woman surrounded by scandal serve as regent and rule the Eyrie and the Vale?"
"And how will that frail child ever command respect as Warden of the East?"
Robert's brow furrowed. His breathing grew heavier.
"Woman. What are you implying?"
Cersei calmly dabbed her lips with an embroidered golden handkerchief.
"For the stability of the realm, the Wardenship of the East should be temporarily entrusted to someone else."
The air froze.
Petyr Baelish stepped forward half a pace, speaking faster than usual.
"Your Grace, Her Majesty's concern for the realm's stability is admirable.
However, House Arryn's titles are hereditary. This matter touches ancient law and fealty. I urge caution."
"And young Robert is Jon Arryn's legitimate son. That fact is beyond dispute.
A few rumors will fade with time. To shake the foundation over mere whispers—"
"Foundation?" Cersei cut him off sharply, a mocking smile tugging at her lips. "Lord Baelish, what do you consider the foundation?"
"The Crown's reputation. The unwavering loyalty of the Vale's lords to their liege. That is the foundation."
"An heir shrouded in suspicion is itself the greatest instability."
Then she softened her tone and turned back to Robert. "We cannot allow Jon Arryn's lands to fall into chaos."
"Until the boy comes of age, the Vale needs a stronger protector. Someone capable of command. Someone loyal beyond doubt to the Crown."
Varys stepped in smoothly, his voice gentle.
"Her Majesty's concerns are understandable. Stability must come first."
He paused and elegantly tossed the question back. "Has Your Grace considered a suitable candidate?"
Cersei lifted her chin slightly.
"I have."
"Ser Jaime Lannister."
The dining hall fell silent. Only the crackling of the hearth could be heard.
Petyr's smile froze completely. Even Varys' eyes widened slightly.
Joffrey lowered his head and focused very hard on his plate.
Mother, you truly waste no opportunity.
Beside him, Myrcella tugged nervously at his sleeve. "Brother, why are they arguing?"
You're asking me?
Joffrey rolled his eyes internally and popped a piece of melon into his mouth.
"They just stand in different positions," he said casually.
Robert stared at Cersei, his expression shifting between shock and calculation.
"The Kingslayer?"
"He's Kingsguard! His duty is to protect the king, not rule the Vale!" Robert growled.
But his fury had dimmed. He was thinking now.
Cersei did not retreat.
"That is precisely why Jaime's loyalty surpasses family ties and answers directly to the Crown."
"What we need is absolute reliability. Not someone swayed by bloodlines and gossip."
Petyr finally recovered from his shock. After offering a stiff agreement, he shifted his stance.
"Your Grace, replacing the Warden so suddenly—especially by inserting power from outside the Vale—may provoke even greater unrest.
Perhaps sending a royal envoy to supervise and assist would be a more prudent solution?"
He was trying to downplay the matter.
"An envoy?" Cersei shot back immediately. "And when Vale lords choose to disobey quietly, what authority would a mere envoy hold?"
For once, Petyr didn't yield. He continued arguing about law and precedent.
Varys began smoothing things over again.
Within minutes, the dining hall dissolved into open argument.
Robert raked a hand through his hair, clearly irritated.
"Enough!"
His low roar cut through the noise.
"We'll discuss the Vale later. Spider, keep investigating the source of the rumor. Cersei—your proposal… I will consider it."
The last words were reluctant, but they were still a concession.
Petyr left with a dark expression.
Varys followed behind him.
Only then did Joffrey lift his head and take a long swallow of cold ale.
The bitterness slid down his throat.
Petyr's life really was miserable. Years of careful planning might collapse because of a few casual words spoken over dinner.
If Cersei pressed the matter in private for a few nights, Robert would likely give in.
After all, he owed the Lannisters millions of gold dragons. And he had just rejected Tywin as Hand. Some political compensation was inevitable.
But this kind of thing should have been settled behind closed doors, not thrown onto the table like this.
Joffrey stared at his fork and knife.
After taking such a loss, Petyr would definitely strike back.
He would likely use Lysa to drive a wedge between House Stark and House Lannister.
And Petyr was cautious.
Every dirty task passed through layers of intermediaries. Nothing would ever trace back to him.
But excessive confidence bred arrogance.
Even if targeted, Petyr would probably convince himself it was simple bad luck. He would never imagine someone could see straight through him.
Joffrey stood up and led his younger siblings out of the dining hall.
A slanderous letter was nothing compared to a legitimate prince seeking marriage ties.
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