King Joffrey

I am King

Joffreys hand brushed through his golden hair, soon to be adorned by an equally golden crown. His emerald eyes scanned his late fathers scholar. His scholar now. His Sire had passed away mere hours ago, leaving his kingdom and all its inhabitants to HIM. He could already imagining himself, sitting in this scholar ordering the lesser men of the realms administration around. And of course he would sit the Iron Throne. Within the hour. He would give his stiff fathers best friend the order to organize a splendid coronation. The people would cheer to his glory and magnificence.

"Your grace" the monotone voice of a servant interrupted in thoughts "The queen has send the word. The throne room awaits your presence"

"I will be there when I decide to" Joffrey barked, sending the servant out the door.

His days being ordered around were over. But he guessed that there was no reason to wait longer to FINALLY feel the iron throne of Westeros on his butt. He would FINALLY claim his birthright the sfter checking himself out a final time in the broad myrish mirror that adorned the side of his ...

PLING

The Sound was sudden. Joffrey turned around and recognized immediately its source. a simple, unadorned golden ring was lying on the marple floor beneath the window. He was pretty sure it just landed there. Where did it come from? The thought did only linger for a heartbeat in Joffresy proud mind. Instead of pondering that mystery he took seven quick steps towards it. Despite its plain design he found it strangely appealing. Without thinking twice he picked it up and shoved it over his soft finger.

Oh yes...