The dark sky quickly began to brighten.
The thick clouds that had covered the sun slowly drifted apart.
At that moment, Joffrey suddenly felt a familiar sensation again. A cold chill ran from his spine through his entire body.
He shuddered, nearly dropping the cup in his hand.
Could it really be that coincidental? Was there actually something up there watching him all the time?
What had he done to deserve a thunderclap striking in broad daylight?
Joffrey instinctively glanced at Eddard's face.
But he found that the usually stern expression of the northern lord now carried the same shock.
In this world, strange and mysterious forces truly existed. Forces that watched those who broke sacred rules.
Those who violated guest right.
Those who killed their kin.
Those who broke their oaths.
Such people would eventually meet destruction.
But Joffrey had only spoken a few harsh words. He had only complained. Surely that was not enough to summon a divine warning.
No one in history had ever been struck dead by lightning for saying such things.
In the end, Joffrey calmly set his cup down and said casually, "That thunder was quite something."
"...It nearly frightened me to death."
Eddard looked at him.
The tension in his face slowly relaxed. "So Your Highness is still a child after all. Even thunder can frighten you."
Joffrey paused for a moment, then laughed as well.
"Thunder is the warning of the gods. Perhaps it came because I spoke too boldly just now."
Eddard did not respond.
He paused, thinking quietly. Then he lifted his cup and slowly finished the wine.
The empty cup touched the stone table with a faint sound.
Finally he spoke.
"Your Highness."
His voice seemed to rise from deep within his chest.
"I have known your father for twenty years."
"From our first meeting in the Eyrie... to the battlefield at the Trident... to the day he sat upon the Iron Throne."
"He was brave, generous, and loyal. Men across the realm were willing to follow him."
Joffrey listened quietly.
Eddard's brow tightened. "But I do not know when he began to change."
"Perhaps when Rhaegar died... Perhaps when Lyanna died... Or perhaps that throne simply weighs too heavily upon him."
Joffrey remained silent, meeting his gaze and waiting for him to finish.
"Or perhaps..." Eddard's voice softened like a falling leaf, "he has always been this way. And I simply never saw it."
When he spoke those words, exhaustion appeared on his weathered face.
A deep, helpless weariness.
"Your Highness... you were right."
"I have spent all this time searching for villains," Eddard said slowly. "I searched for the one who killed Jon Arryn. For the traitors whispering into the king's ear."
"I believed that if I found them and removed them, everything would return to order."
"But if... if the king himself is the root of the problem..."
His voice lowered further. "If I killed every corrupt lord and traitor in the court... and the king remained the same man."
"A king who ignores his duties and wastes the realm's wealth."
"Then what should be done?"
Joffrey remained silent.
Because he knew Eddard was not asking him.
Eddard was asking himself.
This man who had never bowed before snowstorms now faced a question he could not answer.
"So after our argument, I thought I would simply leave. I would resign my office and return home."
"To Winterfell."
"To my wife and children."
"To wait for the long winter."
Eddard shook his head.
"But if I leave... if everyone leaves him in disappointment...Then he will truly be surrounded only by flatterers and schemers."
Joffrey saw Eddard's hand slowly tighten into a fist before relaxing again.
"When Lord Arryn died, I was not beside him," Eddard said quietly. "He faced King's Landing alone."
"A reckless king."
"A council full of hidden ambitions."
"And a position he could never refuse."
"He endured it for decades. And in the end he died without anyone knowing the truth."
"I do not want that to happen again. I do not want that fate for Robert... He may be the last brother I have left."
Eddard raised his head.
For the first time, Joffrey saw a new light in the man's gray eyes.
"Your Highness, I will not leave."
He stood up, his back straight once more. "I will meet Lord Tywin face to face and settle the matter concerning your uncle."
"Catelyn seized the wrong man. I will apologize. I will compensate him. And I will take responsibility for everything."
Joffrey said nothing.
He simply nodded quietly.
Eddard turned and walked away with firm steps. Soon he disappeared into the depths of the courtyard.
Joffrey remained seated beside the stone table.
The wine in his silver cup had already gone cold. He stared at the place where Eddard had vanished.
Seven gods above.
That had been terrifying.
Was this what it felt like when a truly honorable man spoke his heart?
He had only meant to persuade Eddard to stay.
Nothing more.
Two days later, the Small Council convened again.
"To Lord Tywin Lannister, Warden of the West, my beloved father."
Pycelle unfolded a parchment and began reading aloud, his aged voice echoing through the chamber.
"During my journey south, I happened to encounter Lady Catelyn."
"After much pleading, I agreed to accompany her to the Eyrie to see the beauty of the Vale and assist her in investigating a terrible secret."
"Please do not act rashly because of certain rumors and damage our relationship with Lord Stark."
"I went with her willingly."
"—Your most lovable son, Tyrion Lannister."
The hall fell silent.
Tywin Lannister sat among the observers, his stern face completely expressionless.
"My lords," Pycelle said, lowering the letter. "It appears this was merely a misunderstanding."
"A misunderstanding?"
Tywin's voice was as cold as the stone of Casterly Rock. His gaze passed over the room and landed directly on Eddard.
"He admitted himself that he ordered the capture of my son."
Varys spoke gently.
"My lord, Lord Eddard must have been overcome with anger at the time. That is why he spoke so rashly."
Eddard rose from his seat.
"Lord Tywin, Catelyn seized the wrong man. That mistake is mine."
"I have already sent urgent messages ordering her to release your son immediately."
Tywin did not answer at once.
Instead he studied Eddard carefully. As if seeing the northern wolf for the first time.
Finally he nodded. "My patience is limited, Stark."
The tension in the hall eased slightly.
"About that assassin..."
Robert suddenly spoke.
His words were slurred. He had clearly been drinking again that morning.
"The one who tried to kill your boy. That really happened?"
Eddard nodded.
"Without question."
"Ah, I see," Varys said smoothly. "It seems there was good reason behind Lord Eddard's actions."
"No wonder he reacted so fiercely. When a man's own child nearly dies, who among us could remain calm?"
The eunuch sighed softly.
"But one question remains. How did this matter become connected to Lord Tyrion?"
Robert frowned.
"Ned, something that serious happened and you didn't tell me?"
Eddard lifted his head.
"Your Grace, I too wish to accuse someone."
"That person is—"
Before he could finish, a sharp voice exploded across the chamber.
"Your Grace!"
Littlefinger suddenly stood up.
He stepped back three paces, then dropped to his knees with a heavy thud against the stone floor.
His arms spread wide to either side.
"Your Grace... I am guilty!"
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