GOT: Khal — Chapter 113 - Their True Surname

"I should gut you, Varys."

The flesh on Joffrey's cheeks was drawn tight. His blue eyes were like nails dipped in venom, pinning the eunuch in place.

"Over a decade, and you still couldn't put down two Targaryen exiles. You let that little bitch hatch three dragons. Your competence is an absolute joke."

Varys bowed hurriedly, his voice soft but laced with urgency.

"Your Grace, we did have an opportunity to kill her. It was Eddard Stark. While serving as Hand of the King, he vehemently opposed any move against the siblings. He ultimately persuaded King Robert. On his deathbed, King Robert personally ordered the assassination called off."

"Stark again. Always Stark!" Joffrey's temper exploded. He kicked over a nearby footstool. "That traitor has brought two wars down on my kingdom. When we rode north to Winterfell, I should have taken his head then!"

The hall went silent. Only Joffrey's ragged breathing echoed off the stone walls.

When his fury finally burned low, he asked in a cold voice, "Where is my grandfather? I want to see him."

"He should be in the Tower of the Hand, Your Grace." Varys kept his head lowered.

Joffrey walked straight past him, his boots cracking against the stone floor.

He reached Tywin's door. Just as he raised his hand to knock, he heard voices inside — Cersei Lannister and Jaime Lannister.

His hand stopped in midair. His fingers hovered over the wood, then slowly lowered. He pressed his ear to the gap in the door.

"You're marrying Cersei off to that old wreck Mace Tyrell?" Jaime's voice came through thick with disbelief.

"The Targaryen threat is right before us." Tywin sat behind his desk, unhurried. "Highgarden is wealthier than we are. We must bind them firmly to our cause."

Cersei's voice climbed several notes, cutting over her father's calm.

"Marrying that scantily dressed little slut Margaery Tyrell to Joffrey is more than enough. Once his daughter is queen, do you really think Highgarden will side with the Targaryens?"

"And the Queen of Thorns, Olenna Redwyne, plans to poison Joffrey at the wedding. Poison the king."

Jaime turned his head, frowning. "How do you know that?"

"Crude enemy mischief to sow discord," Tywin said. "How would a barbarian horse lord half a world away know such things? A child's prank, nothing more."

"That's not the point." Cersei planted both hands on the table and leaned forward. She glared at Tywin, grinding out the words through clenched teeth: "If you force me to marry Mace, I will tell everyone the truth. Then we'll see how well you hold your alliance together."

Tywin's expression shifted almost imperceptibly, then settled back to stone. "What truth?"

Cersei laughed. But her green eyes glistened.

"The rumors about Jaime and me... they're all true. Joffrey, Myrcella, Tommen — their real surname is Lannister."

The air froze.

Tywin's face stiffened. He looked like a statue carved from rock.

Jaime opened his mouth, his voice going rough. "What... I..." He looked at Cersei, then at his father. His throat worked up and down. He never finished the sentence.

Outside the door, Joffrey had heard every word. He merely raised his eyelids a fraction.

His expression was perfectly calm.

That rumor had been around for as long as he could remember, and he had long since grown tired of hearing it. His two uncles had used it as their very justification for raising armies against him. Hearing it so many times, he had quietly come to accept it as truth in his own heart. But he would never say so. He was cruel, not stupid. The moment he acknowledged it, the Iron Throne would slip from under him.

Inside, Tywin's gaze was cold as a blade. He knew his daughter. He took her threat for exactly what it was worth and still refused to yield.

"You will marry Mace Tyrell. Our gold mines ran dry three years ago. The war has left us deeply in debt to the Iron Bank."

Cersei's eyes went red. Her lips trembled. She was close to tears. "No... no..."

"You cannot openly claim Joffrey and the others as your children," Jaime said, turning to Tywin. "Even if your alliance defeats the Targaryens, how does our name carry on? Who marches under the lion banner in the wars to come? Your nephews? Lancel Lannister? Those distant cousins whose names I can barely remember?"

Tywin rose and walked to the window. His gaze fell on King's Landing below. "If we don't first survive this crisis, there will be nothing left to pass on."

"I will be the one to pass it on." Jaime stepped forward.

Tywin turned slowly and looked at him.

"I'll leave the Kingsguard. I'll become your son and heir again — so long as you don't marry Cersei off to anyone."

Tywin didn't hesitate. "Done." The word came out as fast as a blade clearing its sheath.

Jaime blinked. He had expected his father to haggle. Expected to feel that cold stare drag over him from head to foot, the way it always had.

"Cersei will remain in King's Landing as Queen Regent. And you..." Tywin raised a finger at Jaime. "You will take off that white cloak immediately. Leave King's Landing. Go to Casterly Rock and take the seat that belongs to you.

"You will marry a woman of suitable birth, father Lannister children, and never again turn your back on your house."

Jaime looked at Cersei. He held the look for several breaths. Then he turned back and met his father's eyes. "Agreed."

"Agreed." Tywin settled back into his chair. "Lord Walder Frey of the Twins has many daughters. I will choose one for you."

"Walder Frey?" Jaime's voice carried plain disgust. "He violated guest right. He has no honor. His house is without virtue or worth, unfit to be joined with the Lannisters."

"I'm telling you to marry his daughter, not him." Tywin's tone didn't change, flat as a man correcting a foolish child. "It is precisely because he has no honor that we won the war so easily."

He paused. His gaze sharpened. "And do not forget, you stabbed a king in the back yourself."

Jaime's face went dark. His left hand, his sword hand, clenched without thinking.

"Do you know what the Mad King's final command to me was?" His voice roughened. "He ordered me to bring him your head. I saved your life. Was it so you could mock me?"

"That was not mockery," Tywin said, without inflection. "In any case, I want you to take off that white cloak right now and return to Casterly Rock to do what needs to be done. At once."

Cersei let out a short laugh. She stepped forward, reached up, and began unfastening the clasp at Jaime's collar herself.

She was in no hurry. Her fingertips paused for a deliberate moment on his collarbone. Right in front of their father, she kissed Jaime on the mouth. Only then did she slide the cloak from his shoulders.

Tywin's face went the color of ash. His lips pressed to a thin line.

Outside the door, Joffrey had caught every word. Footsteps moved toward him from inside, and he instinctively stepped back half a pace. The door swung open. Cersei and Jaime walked out, one after the other.

Joffrey opened his mouth and worked to keep his voice steady. "Mother... Uncle Jaime... I, I only just arrived. I need to speak with Grandfather."

He stepped aside to make way. His head stayed down. He didn't look at either of them.

➤ Next: Serve Joffrey with All Our Heart and Soul