-Chapter 27-
-POV MC-
"WOOOOOOW, fucking hell, this wasn't supposed to happen, but I guess I should have known the city wouldn't hold without the wildfire I stole. That idiot Joffrey engaged Stannis in single combat while wielding a Valyrian steel sword… What a complete fool, but it's fine, at least I won't hesitate to kill Cersei's son. The one left is a weakling I can control however I want," I thought.
I looked at Joffrey's decapitated head and couldn't help but feel a bit of pity for the stubborn boy I trained before he became the walking disaster he turned into as king.
I mostly felt a slight twinge of sadness because I knew this would devastate Cersei. But at least he died fighting and not from poisoning, which would have plunged the kingdom into another war.
I took off my Corinthian-style helmet with wings on the sides and handed it to one of my new lieutenants, Arryk.
I drew my Valyrian steel sword. The dark blade gleamed in the firelight, and the hilt was set with a huge ruby representing the heart of a griffin.
The sword was meant to be used with two hands, but I was tall and strong enough to wield it easily with one hand, like a bastard sword.
"I understand what you're trying to do, you think that by making this personal you can get me to fight you. But I have to tell you, you're not powerful, you're not the hero of your own story. In fact, you're just a small obstacle on… my road."
I didn't pay attention to his response and engaged the fight, striking a blow to his head which he parried, though he lost his balance, forcing him to retreat.
I aimed at his right flank, which he parried again, then I cut his right leg, not deeply, but enough for him to clearly feel discomfort.
I continued to strike him with my sword over and over, never landing a fatal blow. It was a dance for me, practically art. I finally severed the arm holding his sword completely, then I decapitated him with a swift, sharp stroke.
I grabbed Lightbringer with a smile and then said, "Perfect, now I have two Valyrian steel swords."
---
-1 hour later-
-POV Cersei-
We advanced with 20,000 men at the fastest speed when we learned that Stannis was marching on the capital, but it wasn't fast enough. We arrived when the city had already fallen, but not for long.
I stayed behind with Myrcella, Margaery Tyrell, Olenna Tyrell, and Raymund Connington, along with an escort of 500 knights.
In the distance, I saw Ronnet galloping towards us, his armor stained with blood.
"How goes the fight?" I asked Ronnet once he dismounted.
He had a stern face and a solemn air, and he said, taking me by the shoulders, "He is dead."
"Who?"
"The King."
"No… no… you're lying… tell me you're lying…" she cried over and over, not stopping as she clung to me, and I said, "You have a son and a daughter left, and Joffrey died fighting Stannis."
"I want him dead."
"It's already done. I decapitated him just as he did with Joffrey."
---
-2 weeks later-
-POV MC-
The rain fell gently on the Red Keep, giving this dark day an even more melancholy atmosphere.
The wet stones reflected the flickering torchlight as the crowd gathered to pay their last respects to Joffrey.
Even though the young king and I had taken very different paths, I couldn't help but feel slightly responsible for his death.
He had been my squire, and I had tried to teach him everything I knew. I remembered his bright eyes full of ambition and arrogance, his thirst for recognition, and the sometimes harmful need to prove his worth.
As I approached the coffin, I was struck by his youth. Even in death, he looked like a boy, not yet a man.
The battle scars were hidden by precious fabrics, but I knew they were there, witnesses to his arrogance and recklessness.
I thought back to our training, his laughter and frustrations. I had hoped that the lessons I taught him would have made him a better king, but unfortunately, that was not the case.
I looked up at Cersei, who stood there, her figure straight but her face devastated by grief.
Her pain was palpable, and for a moment, our eyes met. There were so many reproaches in her eyes, but also a deep sadness, an emptiness.
I remembered the feeling I had when Ronald fell from the abandoned tower of Winterfell, and it was that feeling that allowed me to empathize.
After murmuring a silent prayer for Joffrey, I withdrew, leaving the Lannister family to mourn in peace.
This dark day would serve as a constant reminder that despite our training, our experience, and our intentions, death is an adversary we can never truly defeat.
---
-POV Cersei-
The rain fell in silver curtains, as if the heavens themselves were mourning the loss of my beloved son.
The Red Keep seemed shrouded in a gloomy atmosphere. The echoes of footsteps on the wet stone floor were the only sounds breaking the silence of this dark day.
Joffrey, my firstborn, my lion cub. I held him responsible for many things, but at that moment, all the disputes and errors in judgment seemed insignificant.
All I could see was the little boy with golden curls running through the castle corridors, seeking his father's approval, and later, that of his mentor, Ronnet.
I glanced at Ronnet, who stood not far away.
I saw in his eyes a sincere pain, perhaps even a touch of remorse.
He had trained Joffrey, taught him to fight, but all the training in the world couldn't have prepared my son for the harsh reality of battle, for the fury of Lightbringer.
My fingers clenched on the fabric of my dress as I remembered our last argument, the bitter words exchanged.
If only I had known… If only I could go back and change things. But the wheel of time turns relentlessly, and the past cannot be changed.
When Joffrey's coffin was lowered into the crypt, I felt a part of my soul go with him.
I had lost loved ones before him, but the pain of losing a child was unimaginably deep.
It was a throbbing pain, a pain that rooted deeply in the heart and refused to leave.
The rain showed no sign of letting up, just like my determination. I was torn between anger, pain, and vengeance.
Joffrey was dead, but I was still alive, and I would make sure those who played a part in his death paid the ultimate price.