By the gods, Joffrey underestimated his own expectations. The entire throne room was filled with nobles and smallfolk who had come to watch the trial of House Tyrell. It was hard to count how many there were, but every corner of the throne room was full, except for the path from the gates to the throne, and the place where the tables of three judges were set. There was even music being played, the song none other than the Rains of Castamere.
Soon enough, the herald announced his arrival. He hated how long his regal titles were. So, he let the herald keep shouting and entered on his own. He noticed the gazes were more focused on Val behind him, and it filled him with utmost pride.
I get to bed her, you lowlives. Only I!
Sure, a little petty. But he could afford it as the King.
Eventually, he sat down on his throne, and Val and Jaime took guard positions in front of him. Tyrion also came over and stood beside his throne.
Looking at his uncle, Joffrey felt a sense of victory. A victory over fate itself. You would have been the one standing trial today if not for me.
Soon after, the three judges entered the throne room. The first was Tywin, of course. The second was Lord Paxter Redwyne. And finally, the third one was Lord Orton Merryweather, an insignificant lord, but Joffrey gave him the opportunity since he wanted to shag his Myrish lady, Taena of Myr.
Once everyone was settled, the prisoners were brought in. There were more than twenty, but only Mace Tyrell was allowed to take the stand as he was the Lord of the House.
After that, Joffrey stood up and set the trial in motion. The music ended with that as every other soul in the throne room stood up in respect.
"I, Joffrey of the House Baratheon, First of my Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, do hereby initiate the trial against House Tyrell for high treason—plotting to kill the King. But as I am the King, I must be just and impartial, no matter my anger. Henceforth, I have asked Lord Tywin, Lord Redwyne, and Lord Merryweather to preside as additional judges." He sat down with that.
When everyone took their seat, Tyrion took charge as the King's voice.
"Lord Mace Tyrell, you and your house stand accused of high treason. Did you plot to kill the King?" Tyrion questioned, a mere formality at that point.
"N-No! This is not the truth, Your Grace. My house stands innocent! It was all the work of my mother's machinations—none of us, not I nor any of my kin, were complicit." Mace Tyrell cried like a dying pig. Indeed, a pig. The man had indirectly accepted the charges. So what if Olenna did it, that still implicated his entire House. "My mother, Olenna Tyrell is prepared to bear the responsibility, Your Grace."
Joffrey sneered from his throne, his voice dripping with venom. "Oh, spare me your pitiful excuses, Lord Tyrell. We are long past the point of singling out blame. Margaery is dead, and by all accounts, she did everything in her power to avoid that poisoned wine. She was fully aware it was tainted—she meant for me to drink it! Your mother wasn't the only one plotting against me. My very own wife conspired regicide!"
"Y-Your Grace…" Mace Tyrell wept, shivering.
"Oh, you! Stand aside, you fat oaf!" Olenna snapped and came forward. She stood beside her son and glared at Joffrey. "Why squander our breath, Your Grace? Nothing we utter here will alter the outcome of this charade. Therefore, I demand a trial by combat!"
"Haha! You will fight?" Joffrey asked, mocking her.
"I will!" Loras Tyrell stepped forward, glaring at Joffrey with murderous eyes.
Joffrey didn't like that one bit. But he had a few tricks up his sleeves too. Joffrey didn't care who slept with whom. But if it was a weapon he could use, it was worth it. "How amusing… Lady Olenna seems to have overlooked a crucial detail. I can't allow a sinner of the faith to taint the ritual of Trial by Combat."
In no way Joffrey could allow Loras to fight. Loras was a generational talent and among the best fighters in the realm. Jaime could have bested him but the man only had one hand now. Bronn was also an option, but there was no assurance.
Loras' confident scorn turned into horror. He stepped back in fear and hid behind his grandmother.
"L-Lies! My grandso—"
"Your grandson sleeps with men!" Joffrey cut Olenna off and bellowed. "He was bedding that traitor, Renly Baratheon! That's why your granddaughter couldn't consummate her marriage with Renly! Proof, you need? I have an abundance! From the very lords and ladies of the Reach itself! From every brothel from here to the Highgarden!"
The throne room fell silent, and the throats of every House Tyrell member ran dry. There was no other fighter in the Seven Kingdoms who would willingly fight to save them. It meant going against the King, and no one wanted that.
"I think we've heard enough. Lord Mace Tyrell has confessed to it willingly. By the authority vested in me as the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, I hereby strip House Tyrell of all its titles, holdings, rights, and privileges. Furthermore, every member of House Tyrell is to be executed, and every household soldier, aid, and servant are to be sent to the Wall, or the Silent Sisters!" Joffrey declared, his voice cold and commanding. He turned his gaze to the three additional judges. "Lord Tywin?"
Tywin didn't even look behind at Joffrey. It wasn't easy to hide a smile in moments like such. "I stand with His Grace's words. The King's Justice is fair."
"Lord Redwyne?" Joffrey continued.
"The King's Justice is fair." The man replied.
"Lord Merryweather?"
"The King's Justice is fair!" the man almost shouted.
With that, Joffrey looked back to Olenna Tyrell. He smiled proudly, having the last laugh. This was never in the plan. You did this to yourself, you old bitch.
"Guards!"
The Kingsguards and men of the Golden Legion entered and escorted all the prisoners back to their harsh cells.
"Thank you all for gracing this trial with your presence," Joffrey announced, rising from his seat with satisfaction. "It is essential that you spread the word far and wide. Treason will be crushed without mercy, and yet, loyalty to the crown will be handsomely rewarded. It was Lord Redwyne who exposed the insidious schemes of House Tyrell before they could come to fruition. Such loyalty demands a reward fitting of its grandeur. Lord Paramount of the Mander! Defender of the Marches! High Marshal of the Reach and Warden of the South! These titles are most befitting for a man of Lord Redwyne's esteemed service."
Lord Redwyne looked back at Joffrey with nothing but gratitude and delight. He stepped away from his table, took to his knee before the throne, and swore to King Joffrey Baratheon. Loud and clear, for the entire realm to hear.
The King now had the Reach in his grasp as well.
"Stand, Lord Redwyne. I would have called for a feast but we all have pressing matters to discuss. Let us postpone such celebrations till a more fruitful occasion." Joffrey put his sword away and swept his gaze across the hall. The spectators were leaving already.
So, he walked over to Tywin and smiled sharply. "Are we prepared, Grandfather?"
"Awaiting your orders, Your Grace," Tywin replied. Oh, how proud he was of this grandson. It felt like the return of Aegon the Conqueror himself, only without dragons.
Time to spread my name. Joffrey could feel the phantom grip of his sword and warhammer in his palms. Time for a battle.
"Let us discuss the matter in the Small Council chamber," Joffrey said and walked away from his grandfather. After all, he noticed his personal conquest at the back of the throne room. Short hair, and her feral gaze that excited him always. "Came to see the trial?"
"No," Arya scoffed, her voice sharp as a dagger. "I came to see the place where you sentenced my father to die."
Seven hells! When is she going to stop?
"It wasn't decided here. It was decided in my mother's chambers. By her, and her alone." Joffrey had no shame at that point. Cersei was already dead to him.
"But you delivered it."
Oh, Sansa, I appreciate you so much more now. This one's too feral.
"How rude." Joffrey shrugged and walked past her. "And here I was hoping to tell you that we found your dire wolf."
"WHAT?! WHERE?!"
He grinned secretly.
Got you!
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