Joffrey Craving Praise

At noon.

Winterfell was plunged into revelry following the news that Bran had awakened.

Joffrey, who had been terrified by the giant bear yesterday, had also managed to recover a bit of his spirit after a night of rest.

Joffrey looked listless, with Ser Sandor Clegane, the Hound, accompanying him by his side.

Passing by the kennels, Joffrey couldn't help but curl his lip when he heard others talking about the news of Bran waking up.

"I heard Bran was pushed off the high tower by Theon and broke his back?"

Joffrey spoke loudly on purpose, looking provocatively at the servants around him.

Some had been angry at first, but upon seeing it was Prince Joffrey, they turned away sullenly.

Sandor Clegane, knowing Joffrey's character, replied, "Yes, Your Grace!"

"But even if that boy wakes up, he's just a cripple now, unable to walk, ride a horse, or swing a sword ever again."

Joffrey looked disdainful. "A cripple—if it were me, I certainly wouldn't go on living!"

Sandor Clegane followed firmly behind Joffrey and chimed in, "Actually, His Majesty was drunk last night and said something similar."

"Oh?" Interest piqued, Joffrey stopped in his tracks and turned his head to look at the Hound. "Dog, what did my father say?"

Sandor Clegane met Joffrey's gaze and recalled, "When His Majesty returned to his chambers, he said that since Bran is a cripple, it would be better to grant him mercy and end it with dignity."

A strange look flashed across Joffrey's face. "Father really said that?"

Sandor Clegane nodded with absolute certainty. "Of course. I helped His Majesty back to his room and heard it with my own ears."

Joffrey's eyes darted around, the corners of his mouth lifting into an excited smile.

"If I grant Bran mercy just as Father said..."

"Then Father will surely be very happy when he finds out."

"That way, he won't mention the embarrassing incident in the Wolfswood again!"

Thinking of this, Joffrey couldn't help but laugh twice, drawing a puzzled look from Sandor Clegane.

"Your Grace?"

"It's nothing, Dog. Take me to where the Baratheon knights are staying!"

Ser Sandor Clegane was long accustomed to Joffrey's inexplicable whims and orders, so he didn't mind leading Joffrey to the quarters of the Baratheon vassals in Winterfell.

Because there was no hunting today.

The vassal knights of House Baratheon were mostly gathered together, drinking, chatting, and talking about what had happened yesterday.

Seeing Prince Joffrey approach, they were puzzled but still stood up to salute him.

Joffrey took the opportunity to pick a suitable candidate for his assassination of Bran.

Soon, he found a hedge knight.

Joffrey made an excuse to send Ser Sandor Clegane away, speaking with the hedge knight in private.

Lured by Gold Dragons, the hedge knight finally accepted Joffrey's commission, preparing to seize the opportunity to assassinate Bran during the night.

After settling the killer, Joffrey returned to his room in high spirits.

On the other side, Garon's plan was also being quietly implemented.

Under Ned's instructions, Ser Rodrik led a group of loyal Winterfell soldiers to quietly deploy between Winterfell and Winter Town.

They monitored anyone suspicious entering or leaving Winter Town.

In the main keep, the severely injured and unconscious Bran had been moved to another room.

At this moment, there were only a few capable Winterfell soldiers in Bran's bedroom.

Some hid in the wardrobe, some under the bed, and one even lay in Bran's bed.

Because the success of the plan was at stake, Robert and Ned had not revealed it to anyone except the few involved in the operation.

Even Sansa and Arya were kept in the dark.

But Cersei had secretly told Jaime about the plan, and Jaime, who had been panicking, immediately felt at ease.

Once everything was ready, Ned called Garon out alone.

On the enclosed bridge connecting the main keep to the armory.

Ned stood quietly by the window, looking down at the bustling courtyard below.

"Lord Ned!"

After Garon signaled his attendant to leave, he walked lightly behind Ned, stood still, and greeted him.

Hearing Garon's voice, Ned did not turn around immediately, as if silently pondering something.

A moment later, he turned to look at Garon. "Garon, how many days have you been in Winterfell?"

"Five days," Garon replied immediately.

"Five days..."

Ned pondered for a moment, then continued, "It is time for you to return as well!"

Garon's eyes flashed, but he did not respond, waiting silently for Ned's explanation.

"The Iron Islands will soon learn of Theon's death last night."

"Time is of the essence; you must return to Deepwood Motte as soon as possible and prepare to resist an attack from the Iron Islands at any moment!"

Garon understood immediately. "Yes, once this matter is settled, I will return to Deepwood Motte!"

But to his surprise, Ned shook his head and refused. "No, you will take Jon and return to Deepwood Motte tomorrow."

Garon was stunned. "Then what about the plan?"

Ned replied calmly, "The plan does not require you to stay in Winterfell, and besides, it may not even be effective."

"If the Queen knows, Jaime will certainly know as well. How could they possibly still send someone to assassinate Bran?"

Ned's suspicion of Jaime had never wavered.

In his view, it must have been the Kingslayer who bewitched Theon, attempting to conspire against The North.

"The Kingslayer has no honor to speak of!"

"Garon, the first thing you must do upon returning to Deepwood Motte is to dispatch one hundred archers to garrison Moat Cailin!"

Garon was startled and whispered, "My lord, are you intending to keep Jaime trapped in The North?"

It was no wonder Garon thought so.

Moat Cailin was situated in the northern part of The Neck and was the only gateway into The North.

For countless years, The North had relied on the treacherous terrain of Moat Cailin to firmly hold back invasions from the south.

At this moment, Ned ordering Garon to send archers to Moat Cailin was tantamount to preparing for war with the Lannister family in advance.

Garon worried that Ned, in a fit of rage, was prepared to kill Jaime in The North to avenge Bran.

But Ned shook his head; he had not yet let his anger cloud his reason.

"You are overthinking it. Moat Cailin guards the north and south; I am merely taking precautions."

"Go now. Return to say your goodbyes to Robb and Sansa, and set off early tomorrow morning!"

Ned waved his hand, signaling for Garon to withdraw.

"Yes!" Garon left the bridge with mixed feelings, turning to find Robb and the others to bid them farewell.

During the farewells, night gradually began to fall.

Dinner in the Great Hall of Winterfell was silent and strange.

Everyone was preoccupied with their own thoughts; Sansa and Arya were reluctant to see Garon leave.

Robb was worried about Bran while feeling saddened by Garon's departure.

As for Ned, he was even more distracted. After barely finishing dinner with the royal family, he feigned business and slipped away.

Robert also left the Queen and his children behind, following closely after him.

A mocking smile appeared on Cersei's lips.

She had already notified Jaime; even if they waited until the White Walkers invaded, no one would be assassinating Bran.

She elegantly finished the wine in her cup, then took Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella back to their rooms to rest.

Tomorrow morning, she would rise early to watch the joke that was Ned and Robert.

However, she failed to notice that Joffrey was equally excited.

"Haha, after tonight, Bran will be dead."

"Father will surely praise me and say I look just like him!"

Whenever Joffrey thought of Robert praising him in the near future, he trembled with excitement.

As for the consequences of the assassination or the possibility of failure, none of that entered his mind.