The Small Council meeting ended on a sour note.
Or rather, it came to a hasty end amid a deranged one-man show.
While Robert Baratheon's laughter, steeped in bloodlust and brutality, still echoed through the council chamber, Cersei Lannister was the first to rise and leave.
Her face, always so proud and beautiful, was now livid, and her clenched fists betrayed her fury.
She did not even bother to bow to the madman on the throne before walking straight out.
Robert had gone mad.
The thought screamed through Cersei's mind.
Make some ignorant northern girl the Master of Coin?
That was more absurd than putting a damned boar in charge of the treasury!
Who was he trying to humiliate?
Ned Stark?
No!
He was humiliating House Lannister!
He was slapping her in the face!
Robert was not merely suspicious of the Starks. He was guarding against the Lannisters, too!
Renly Baratheon followed close behind.
He did not spare his elder brother on the throne so much as a glance. The face that always wore an elegant smile held nothing but undisguised disgust and icy disdain.
To keep Ned shackled, Robert would not even grant a favor to his own fellow Baratheon.
A king like that.
Ha.
He had nothing to say!
Varys and Grand Maester Pycelle also bowed and took their leave.
Both looked as though they had seen a ghost, as if they had yet to recover from the farce they had just witnessed.
Soon, only Lynn and Ned Stark, still slumped in the Hand of the King's chair, remained in the vast council chamber.
"Let's go, Lord Ned."
Lynn spoke calmly.
"The show's over. Time to leave."
Ned slowly raised his head, his gray eyes filled with conflicting emotions.
He looked at Lynn, his lips moving, but in