The King's Bedchamber.
Clang!
The solid gold wine cup slammed into the floor with a deafening crash.
"Get out! All of you, get out!"
Joffrey shot upright in bed, his eyes bloodshot, his chest heaving.
Everything that had happened the night before replayed in his mind like a nightmare.
Pycelle's blood, his mother's terrified face, and Lynn's black eyes that saw through everything...
He had killed a man, taken his revenge, and learned the earth-shattering secret of his birth.
He had even handed the mother who had always lorded over him to Lynn, as though throwing away rubbish.
He had done everything he wanted!
So why did he feel no satisfaction at all? Why did it feel as though a boulder were lodged in his chest?
Especially when he thought of Cersei.
However vicious and disgraceful that woman might be, she was still his mother!
Now she was in the Tower of the Hand.
Very likely in another man's bed!
At the thought of that scene, a fire of humiliation and savage rage surged from the depths of Joffrey's heart, burning his insides with agonizing pain!
She was his mother!
Even if he no longer wanted her, even if he wanted to kill her himself, no other man had the right to touch her!
Lynn!
Lynn again!
That name loomed over him like an insurmountable black mountain, crushing him beneath its weight.
Lynn knew his greatest secret and held his life in his hands...
Now he had taken possession of his mother, too!
Yet Joffrey did not dare entertain even the slightest thought of resistance.
Lynn... was a loyal subject!
He was protecting me!
That conviction twisted his humiliation into something even uglier!
"Your Grace, it's time for breakfast."
A gentle voice sounded. Liana entered silently with a tray,