Be generous

Showing his manliness in the form of attacking the peasant boy might be a better option, and he was itching for his blade to be blooded.... and it was tempting to do so. However, seeing that his betrothed was the kind of girl who would be impressed with shows of valor and bravado and honor just like her beliefs... it would be best to show her and the two people in front of him some generosity as he thought it would benefit him later in the long run.

And so, he coughed for a moment before looking at the red haired peasant that was apparently 'sparring' with his betrothed's sister. "You... commoner. Your name is Mycah? And you are a butcher's boy, correct?" He spoke in a somewhat regal, but mildly snobbish tone that led the younger Stark to snort and scoff.

"Of course he is... didn't you hear what I said you idiot prince. Were you deaf?" She said snarkily, which led Sansa to gasp and said in indignation. "ARYA! You apologize to the Prince right now for your bad manners against him!" She then turned to him and said. "Please forgive my sister's manners, my Prince... I am sure she did not mean to infer that you were... what she had called you earlier."

He smiled at her, though he felt annoyed at the disrespect the younger Stark showed him and said. "It is alright, my Lady... after all, she is only just eighteen and I understand. I was that way when I was her age after all." He said with a gentle smirk on his face that caused Arya to fume in silence and Sansa to go dreamy at his gentlemanly ways. Perhaps this was the thing he needed to do, rather than act like a vicious man that might cause some problems for himself earlier. After all, earning allies is far better than enemies... everyone knows that.

He then turned to the peasant and said. "Before I was rudely interrupted... I do believe I asked you if your name is Mycah and if you are a butcher's boy, did I not?"

Mycah gaped at the earlier display and then snapped out of his reverie and stammered. "Yes... yes it is... my Prince. I did not mean to offend... or try to hurt the Lady Arya here. She asked me to spar with her... after all. Please do not hurt me... or punish me My Prince."

Joffrey considered his words and nodded thoughtfully. It would be bad taste to punish someone over something trivial, he supposed. He then looked at the commoner and said. "Very well... I will not punish you, this time. However, there is the problem of you sparring against the daughter of a highborn Lord. How skilled are you with that wooden stick of yours to do so? I wish to see it for myself."

Arya and Mycah gasped, and the latter stammered and Arya yelled at him. "That's not fair! You are using a live steel blade against a wooden stick...!" He then raised a hand and grinned. "Whoever said I wanted to use my blade, Lady Arya? You presume too much, girl. I was mentioning to spar with him with that wooden stick as well."

There was a silence and Arya looked at him with disbelief while Sansa beamed even further. Her Prince was really a true honorable and kind Prince to do so, and generous as well. Mycah stammered and said. "But.. but, My Prince.... I do not dare... what if... what if I hurt you... I do not want to be killed over such a thing."

Joffrey scoffed and said. "There would be no such danger... in the event of such a thing occurring I will explain it to my parents that I was the one that requested the spar and I will bear the consequence of it. And if you do well against me, there might be good things happening to you as well." He said with a grin to the butcher's boy. "So what say you. commoner? Do you accept the sparring request from your Prince?"

Mycah looked at the Prince, still not believing that this was happening to him... but it seems the choice has been put forth towards him. The question is... what he should do right now.