Joffrey staggered from the blow and nearly fell. A clear handprint instantly appeared on his face, mingling with Eddard's blood and making him look utterly bedraggled and ridiculous.
He clutched his face, his eyes round with shock and fury, seemingly unable to believe that this dwarf had dared to strike him.
"You-you dare hit me?! You monster! You filthy dwarf! I'll kill you! Gold Cloaks! Kill him! Chop him into mincemeat!"
Joffrey screamed hysterically, his voice distorted by rage and the blow.
The Gold Cloaks on the platform exchanged glances, then took a hesitant step forward.
Bronn and the sellswords Tyrion had brought immediately drew their swords and stood in front of him. In an instant, the air bristled with tension.
Without a trace of fear, Tyrion snatched a roll of parchment bearing a thick wax seal from inside his clothes and held it high, roaring at all the Gold Cloaks, "Open your damned eyes and look! This is a handwritten order from Lord Tywin Lannister, Warden of the West, Lord of Casterly Rock, and Hand of the King, bearing his wax seal! Lord Tywin has appointed me, Tyrion Lannister, to exercise all the powers and duties of the Hand in his stead while he is away from King's Landing commanding the war at the front, maintaining order in the capital and conducting the affairs of the realm until he returns or appoints someone else. This order carries the authority of Lord Tywin himself!"
Tyrion's icy gaze swept over the hesitant Gold Cloaks before settling on Joffrey, who clutched his face and trembled with rage, yet dared not give another order for the moment after hearing Tywin's name. Enunciating every word, Tyrion said, "Now, as Hand of the King, I command you to escort our frightened king back to the