Joffrey's twisted face looked especially hideous in the Council Chamber, where the smell of blood hung thick in the air.
He looked at the shattered bones and pools of blood on the floor, then recalled how Lynn had just forced him to kneel.
A sense of humiliation unlike anything he had ever known welled up inside him.
I am the king! The king of the Seven Kingdoms!
How can I be someone else's dog?
He slammed his fist onto the nearby table with a dull thud.
"Joffrey."
A soft voice came from behind him.
Joffrey spun around and saw Liana standing in the doorway of the Council Chamber.
She wore a simple white gown and carried a silver tray holding a glass of milk and a few pastries.
"You frightened me."
Liana walked slowly inside.
She set the tray on a table untouched by blood.
She did not look at Pycelle's corpse on the floor. Her eyes rested only on Joffrey.
"My king." Liana's voice was full of concern.
"What's wrong?"
As Joffrey looked at Liana, his anger and hurt finally found an outlet.
"I was humiliated! Humiliated by that Lynn!"
He pointed at the blood on the floor.
"He knows my secret!"
Liana approached and gently took Joffrey's bloodstained hand. "Your Grace, please calm down."
Her voice held a strange, soothing power.
"Do you truly believe Lord Lynn was humiliating you?"
Joffrey jerked his head up.
"Wasn't he?"
Liana shook her head.
Her eyes held deep understanding and sympathy.
"Your Grace, do you remember who stood against everyone else and insisted that you inherit the Iron Throne?"
Joffrey froze.
"It was Lord Lynn."
Liana's voice grew quieter.
"He could easily have supported someone else, but he didn't."
"He chose you."
With every sentence Liana spoke, Joffrey's eyes brightened a