King Joffrey Novels & Stories

The Lyseni clapped Davos on the back, and swaggered from the inn as if he owned it. Ser Davos Seaworth lingered over his tankard for a good while, thinking. A year ago, he had been with Stannis in King's Landing when King Robert staged a tourney for Prince Joffrey's name day. He remembered the red priest Thoros of Myr, and the flaming sword he had wielded in the melee. The man had made for a colorful spectacle, his red robes flapping while his blade writhed with pale green flames, but everyone knew there was no true magic to it, and in the end his fire had guttered out and Bronze Yohn Royce had brained him with a common mace.

The whole entourage followed her to the Alpha’s throne room, Kendra and Killian momentarily forgotten. The Alpha, Joffrey von Sterling, was dozing off when the crowd burst into the large, immaculately decorated throne room, the noise causing him to jump up in startlement. Aiyisha’s heart immediately went out to the old wolf like it did wherever she saw him, but just as quickly, it hardened again. He didn’t deserve her pity? No. He was but the only one who had placed himself in the condition to be suffering like so, not her. And so he had to deal with the consequences.

The Lyseni clapped Davos on the back, and swaggered from the inn as if he owned it. Ser Davos Seaworth lingered over his tankard for a good while, thinking. A year ago, he had been with Stannis in King's Landing when King Robert staged a tourney for Prince Joffrey's name day. He remembered the red priest Thoros of Myr, and the flaming sword he had wielded in the melee. The man had made for a colorful spectacle, his red robes flapping while his blade writhed with pale green flames, but everyone knew there was no true magic to it, and in the end his fire had guttered out and Bronze Yohn Royce had brained him with a common mace.

The Lyseni clapped Davos on the back, and swaggered from the inn as if he owned it. Ser Davos Seaworth lingered over his tankard for a good while, thinking. A year ago, he had been with Stannis in King's Landing when King Robert staged a tourney for Prince Joffrey's name day. He remembered the red priest Thoros of Myr, and the flaming sword he had wielded in the melee. The man had made for a colorful spectacle, his red robes flapping while his blade writhed with pale green flames, but everyone knew there was no true magic to it, and in the end his fire had guttered out and Bronze Yohn Royce had brained him with a common mace.

Their voices rang out in unison, hurried and unsure, as they lowered their heads, but their voices did not soothe me. My eyes swept over them with icy precision, each warrior, each trembling body, each failure. But the face I needed to see, the one responsible for this disgrace, was nowhere in sight. The silence following their greeting was deafening. My jaw tightened. My throat burned. And then my voice_ calm, controlled, and yet sharp enough to pierce bone cut through the air. “Where is Joffrey?” Even I was startled by the tone that left my lips_so cold, so foreign, it barely felt like my own voice. It was dipped in power and steel, and it left no room for excuses.

Jason's gaze travelled over Claude's clothing, a tiny scowl on his face, but he remained silent in front of everyone. With a sigh of relief, Claude exhaled deeply. Jason isn't generally a good manager, so the fact that he hasn't publicly chastised Claude suggests he's had a lucky day. Jason gave him the moniker "Jamie." A male model may or may not wear underwear, but he must have a moniker so that others will notice that he is not average.

she reasoned. He snorted angrily. "She deserves what awaits here out there," he muttered coldly with visible disdain in his eyes. I shudder in both shock and fright. I had never expected him to be this heartless and cold. I had always viewed him as a gentle, kind and thoughtful man. "Take her further to the edge of the forest and prepare the potion," he ordered solemnly and servants, who heard his commanding tone, shivered before rushing to carry out his order. The guards pulled me roughly. The sharp edges of the rocks cut through my skin as they dragged me even on the floor whenever I fell weakling, unable to bear the weight of my body with my wobbling legs.

Matteo Romano. He rose from the shadowed corner, towering, broad-shouldered, his black suit tailored with the precision of a king in exile. His face was carved in lines of command: sharp jaw, straight nose, lips that could give orders like death sentences. But it was his eyes that froze the blood in her veins. obsidian, fathomless and unreadable. Il Re di Ferro. The Blood King. Whispers rippled through the hall like wind through dry leaves. No one expected him here. No one dared to speak his name too loudly.

I shook my head, not sure if I should accept that he was my boyfriend or not. “Your Highness, you have to step back so I will take care of it from here….” Tyrion voiced out, showing up before us. He glanced at me, making a long face. What was the look all about? Sad that his Alpha was hurt or that I got another man after he betrayed me? I looked at the young man who smiled at me. “You shouldn't have done this—” that was all I could say. “He's the Alpha Prince…” “So am I, or you've forgotten?” he responded, causing an awe. “My name is Alpha Prince Kelvin. I am the Alpha Prince of the Snow Moon Pack.”