003 The Imp (1)

A week later,

Inside the Queen's chambers, Cersei was sleeping in the middle of the bed with her two children on either side.

Her arms tangled around her children while Joffrey had his legs on her.

The queen's eyes fluttered open, her green eyes blinking as they adjusted to the light.

A small smile tugged at her lips as she looked at her children; Myrcella was wearing her night robe, her arms hugging Cersei's neck.

While Joffrey nestled in her chest, his legs dangled over her.

"You two are all I ever need," she mumbled as she kissed her children's forehead.

For the last week, the family stayed close, playing together and laughing together, forgetting about the chaos of the world outside.

But she knew, 'I have to get back to work…' Cersei, as the queen, must attend the meeting of the Small Council happening today.

Her so-called husband would always be either absent or too drunk to make any decisions.

"How beautiful it will be to see my cub on that throne," she muttered to herself, her hands caressing her son's cheeks.

She imagined Joffrey sitting on the Iron Throne, his regal blonde hair and shining green eyes glimmering against the dark throne.

Just thinking about it gave her goosebumps. "I will definitely make it happen, dear." She mumbled as she kissed him once again before untangling herself from her children to get ready for the meeting.

...…

Joffrey woke up from his deep slumber, feeling refreshed and energetic. He noticed that his mother was not there and knew that she had gone to the small council meeting.

"Well, I should also start my plans," Joffrey mumbled as he covered his sister with a quilt.

"The Game of Thrones starts with Jon Arryn's death," he mumbled as he got off the bed, "I will have to observe the man more before I decide his fate."

Walking toward the bathroom, where the maids have already arranged a bath, "Before that, I need real power."

He clenched his fist as he took his clothes off, slipping into the hot bath. "The power Cersei has comes from Grandfather Tywin, who will definitely try to control me!"

Closing his eyes as he relaxed, 'The stormlands are a gamble; they depend on Jon Arryn and the rumors.'

'The Starks are allied with Robert, while the Tyrells have their own ambitions.'

'That leaves me with no real power, just like the brat from the original storyline!'

Just as he was thinking about what he should do, the door to his bath opened and a maid walked inside; she bowed to Joffrey and said, "Your Grace, the Queen requests your presence after your bath."

Joffrey frowned when he heard the maid but still nodded his head and asked, "Has Myrcella woken?"

"No, Your Grace."

"Then after she wakes up, tell her to study and not play. If she doesn't, then I will personally see to her punishment."

The maid suppressed her giggles when she heard her prince; she had seen his punishment and had to say it was quite amusing.

"Anything else, Your Grace?" the maid asked.

Joffrey shook his head, dismissing her. "No, you can leave."

Joffrey stayed still, basking in the silence that the bath offered, his heart calmed for a moment, a sliver of peace for the oncoming chaos.

"Hmm, I should get close to Uncle Tyrion and also Barristan. I don't want them to flee to that lizard girl."

He hasn't met his uncle in years and only saw him at Myrcella's birthday celebrations. He knew that Tyrion was very important and should make him an ally.

"I should also focus on the small folks…" he mumbled; he could still vividly remember the episode where the common folk had stripped Cersei and humiliated her.

"The great sept of Baelor…" he mumbles as he grits his teeth; he knows if he doesn't intervene and change the future that will happen to her, "To think that a queen had to walk naked in front of common folk."

Joffrey shook his head, his heart thumping against his chest. "I will not let that happen, and I will also make the small folk love me; it should give me some say in the council."

He got out of the tub, his body glistening under the sunlight that entered through the windows.

"My priority for now should be meeting Tyrion and also…. Training."

He got himself ready and glanced at the bed; Myrcella was still asleep.

He shook his head in resignation at his sister's laziness and walked out of the room.

The two guards, along with the maid, greeted him with cold air grazing against his skin.

""Your Grace""

The guards and the maid greeted him, which Joffrey ignored as always; instead, he looked at the maid and said, "Take me to the queen."

Walking through the halls of the Red Keep, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at its grandeur: high ceilings with chandeliers, long intricate hallways, and the view that overlooked the city of King's Landing.

'One day, this will all be mine!' His eyes shone with greed and possessiveness as he looked around while the maid led him to the Queen.

Joffrey frowned as he noticed that the maid was leading him to the dining room; he clenched his jaw as he remembered what the pig had done a week ago.

"Is the King present?" he asked the maid, while reigning in his anger.

"No, your grace." The maid answered curtly and didn't delve further.

Joffrey didn't ask further and let the maid announce his presence before opening the door.

Just as he entered the door, a playful voice called out to him, "Ah, there's my favorite nephew."

Joffrey frowned as he looked at the source of the voice; the man was small in size, perhaps three to three and a half feet. His golden hair was unkempt while his tiny hands held a goblet of wine.

Joffrey's eyes widened as he looked at the playful smile on the man. 'I never thought I would meet him this soon.'

Of course, the man was the imp—Tyrion Lannister.