The king's bedchamber.
Joffrey stood over a huge map of Westeros, jabbing his finger hard at Storm's End and Dragonstone.
A sick pleasure at his younger brother's "accidental" death lingered on his face.
With one fewer heir, his throne was more secure.
When Cersei walked in, he did not even turn around.
"What are you doing here?"
Joffrey's voice was full of impatience.
"Didn't I tell you to stay put and keep Lord Lynn pleased?"
Cersei said nothing.
She walked to the center of the hall and dropped stiffly to her knees a few paces from Joffrey.
"My king."
Joffrey turned around, somewhat surprised.
He saw his mother kneeling on the floor, a fire he had never seen before burning in her haggard face.
Grief, anger, and vengeance!
"Joffrey, my son."
Cersei raised her head, tears spilling uncontrollably.
"I thought about it all night."
"I understand now."
"Tommen's death was no accident!"
Her voice trembled with emotion.
"It was Stannis! It was Renly!"
"It must have been them!"
"They envy you! They covet your throne!"
"They can't kill you, so they went after the weakest person at your side first!"
"They killed Tommen to warn you, to make you suffer!"
"You're bound to be their next target!"
Every word Cersei spoke was like a bucket of boiling oil poured onto the flames already raging in Joffrey's heart.
Joffrey froze.
He looked at his mother, kneeling on the floor and sobbing her heart out.
He felt his heart fill with an unprecedented sense of satisfaction and validation.
She understood!
She finally understood!
She finally understood who she could truly rely on, who was the sole master of this Kingdom!
"Mother!"
Joffrey hurried forward and hauled Cersei up from the floor.
"You're right! You're right about everything!"
He felt his own eyes