Eddard quickly finished reading the letter in his hand.
Without saying anything, he passed it back to Joffrey and gestured for him to deliver it to his foster father, Jon Arryn.
Because of Robert's earlier display of authority, Joffrey hesitated for a moment.
He glanced at his father, but in the end, he followed Eddard's instruction.
Jon took the letter from Joffrey without expression. He looked around at the gathered lords, then stood up and spoke.
"My lords, the letter reports that the pretender Viserys has defeated the Dothraki army.
He fought on two fronts, north and south.
On the northern front, he killed more than forty thousand Dothraki riders.
On the southern front, he forced a khal commanding twenty thousand men to surrender.
Viserys has declared that once he eliminates the remaining khal who escaped, he will lead his army to attack King's Landing."
When Jon finished reading, the entire hall fell into silence.
Then a sharp, somewhat unpleasant voice broke the stillness.
"My lord Hand, perhaps I misheard. Was that forty thousand... or four thousand?"
The one who spoke was Tyrion.
Joffrey looked at Tyrion's misshapen appearance with undisguised disgust.
Everyone from his mother's family was handsome. His mother was renowned as a beauty across the Seven Kingdoms.
His uncle, Jaime, though missing a hand, was tall, strong, and admired by countless noble ladies.
Joffrey simply could not understand how Tyrion could be their brother. There had to be something wrong.
Jon offered no explanation. He simply gestured for Joffrey to hand the letter over.
Joffrey pinched the corner of the parchment and held it out at arm's length, as if reluctant to get any closer.
Tyrion took it as though he noticed nothing. After reading for a moment, his expression turned serious.
"My lords, according to my analysis, this report is missing a crucial detail."
"What detail?"
All eyes turned toward his oversized head. Regardless of his appearance, no one doubted his intelligence.
"Dragons. If there were no dragons, how did Viserys kill so many Dothraki?"
A few people let out quiet laughs. Tyrion was essentially questioning the credibility of the report.
In truth, almost no one present could believe it.
The letter claimed that Viserys had achieved these results within a single week. But even hunting animals, no one could gather such numbers in that time.
The scale of the report was beyond their imagination.
"No need to overthink it," said Renly Baratheon dismissively. "It's obviously false. The Crown needs better informants."
The idea of slaughtering over forty thousand enemies was simply too absurd for them to picture.
"Even if it is true," Kevan Lannister suddenly said, "then Viserys must have paid a heavy price for such a victory. I don't think we need to be overly concerned."
His words seemed to lift a weight off the room. Many felt reassured.
Tyrion drained his cup and said, "Dear uncle, if that were the case, then why haven't Braavos and Volantis taken the opportunity to attack Gohor?
Instead, they're sending envoys to discuss a campaign against the Dothraki."
Everyone present had been keeping a close watch on Viserys's actions in Essos.
No one knew exactly how he had managed to slip his fleet past Volantis, but the fact remained that he had done so.
The Targaryen fleet was a direct threat to Volantis's interests.
If Viserys had truly been weakened after fighting the Dothraki, would his enemies really let such an opportunity pass?
Joffrey did not fully understand the discussion, but he could tell from the expressions of the adults that his ugly uncle had just poured cold water over their confidence.
Tyrion, meanwhile, held up his empty cup and gestured for Joffrey to refill it.
The thought of serving this ugly dwarf made Joffrey feel sick. But as he stood there, listening, an idea suddenly formed in his mind.
He glanced at his father, then gathered his courage and spoke.
"My... my lords."
His childish voice immediately drew everyone's attention.
"Why don't we just send an assassin to kill Viserys? If he dies, then no one will dare challenge the Crown anymore."
The room fell quiet again.
To the lords present, this was nothing more than a child's suggestion.
Assassination might be efficient, but it was dishonorable and unfit for open discussion, especially in a royal council.
Joffrey, however, felt proud of himself. He believed he had come up with a brilliant solution.
What he did not realize was that this single suggestion lowered many people's opinion of him.
Yet, to everyone's surprise, Robert did not reject the idea.
He did not openly agree, but neither did he oppose it.
Viserys was protected by three true Kingsguard—Arthur, Gerold, and Oswell. Assassinating him would not be easy.
There were no suitable assassins within the Seven Kingdoms capable of such a task.
That left only one option.
The Faceless Men.
But what price would be required to kill a king who stood at the height of his power?
"The king intends to hire the Faceless Men?"
"The king has not made any explicit decision."
Although Robert had ordered the council's discussions to remain secret, word still spread within a small circle.
Barristan learned of the matter through Jaime.
"Who suggested this? That person should be expelled from the council immediately!"
Barristan was furious. His pure white beard trembled as he spoke.
"How can such a proposal even be voiced in the Small Council? What kind of men are we allowing into the governance of the realm?"
Jaime hesitated. He did not have the heart to say that it had been Joffrey.
He could not help but wonder what kind of king Joffrey would become in the future.
"I don't know exactly who suggested it," Jaime said.
"That won't do. I must speak to the king. A king cannot stoop to such dishonorable methods!"
Barristan strode forward like an enraged lion, heading toward Maegor's Holdfast.
But Jaime reacted quickly, stepping in front of him and stopping him with his left hand, which he had only recently grown accustomed to using.
"Ser Barristan, wait."
Barristan turned back.
Jaime continued, "His Grace has assigned you to take command of the Gold Cloaks. For the time being, you are not to enter the court."
Barristan froze for a moment, his anger still burning, but now mixed with something colder.
He understood.
This was not just an order.
It was a warning.
___________
Upto 20 chapters ahead on patreon :-
patreon.com/BloodAncestor