Sansa's face flushed with indignation."You're just jealous because I can talk to Prince Joffrey, you wild girl! I love him—I want to be his queen and bear his children!"
Arya scoffed and curled her lip in exasperation."Seven hells, I'm not jealous!"
But Sansa wasn't done. She lifted her chin proudly."Joffrey will be the greatest king Westeros has ever known—a golden lion! We'll have beautiful, golden-haired sons together."
Arya rolled her eyes and snapped,"Idiot. He's not a lion—he's a stag. Just like his drunkard of a father."
Sansa's eyes widened in outrage."He is not! Joffrey is nothing like Robert!" she spat.
Across the room, Lord Eddard Stark sat silently, observing the bickering. But his mind was far from the squabble. The contrast in how Sansa spoke of Joffrey compared to Robert hit him like a blade to the ribs.
A truth he had long avoided began stitching itself together with painful clarity.
The fragments—the oddities he'd ignored—all fell into place: Jon Arryn's death, the cryptic book, Gendry's striking resemblance to Robert, and Lysa's desperate letter. Sansa's words were the final piece in a puzzle he hadn't wanted to complete.
His breath slowed. His eyes darkened.Joffrey… was not Robert's son.Not only Joffrey—but Tommen and Myrcella, too. All born of incest. All illegitimate.
The realization chilled him to his core.
His jaw tightened as his thoughts turned to the implications. Revealing the truth could plunge the entire realm into war. Blood would be spilled—his own, perhaps. And his daughters...
He turned his eyes to Arya and Sansa, still glowering at each other.
"Enough." His voice was like iron.
Both girls turned, startled by the sudden authority in their father's tone.
"From this moment, neither of you is to leave the Tower of the Hand. Do you understand me?"
Arya's brows furrowed. Though clearly reluctant, she gave a small nod, her lips in a pout.At least Syrio was still within the tower, she thought.
Sansa, however, bristled."Father, why? You promised I could go riding! I didn't do anything wrong!"
Ned's eyes were stern and cold."This is not a time for tantrums. You will do as I say."
The girls could feel the weight in his voice—something had changed. Something serious.
Still, Sansa's lip trembled with defiance."But—"
"No buts," Ned interrupted. His tone brooked no argument."This is an order. When I return, I'll explain everything. Until then, stay inside. That is final."
He didn't wait for a reply. With a swirl of his cloak, Ned strode from the room, leaving his daughters in stunned silence.
Red Keep – Hallway Outside the Great Hall
The stone corridors twisted around him as Ned walked briskly, his thoughts spiraling even faster. The truth pressed heavily on his shoulders: the king must be told. Robert had a right to know that the heirs he loved were not his blood.
But as he neared the doors to the dining hall, his steps slowed.
Laughter echoed from within. Robert's voice, booming and carefree, resonated with warmth. Ned hesitated.
He imagined the rage on his friend's face. The three children—just children—facing the sword for the sins of their mother. Could he be the man to cause that?
His jaw clenched. He couldn't bring himself to push open the door.
Then—footsteps.
Deliberate. Poised. Regal.
Ned turned to find Queen Cersei approaching. Her golden hair glinted in the torchlight, her eyes cold with suspicion.
She tilted her chin slightly, the corners of her mouth tight."Lord Stark. You seem lost in thought. Were you looking for Robert?"
Ned's gaze lingered on her, unreadable.
"Your Grace, there's something we must discuss."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, though her expression remained composed."Oh? And what would that be?"
"Not here." Ned gestured. "Let's walk. The courtyard is quieter."
After a pause, Cersei nodded. The two walked in silence, the click of her heels and the rustle of Ned's cloak the only sounds between them.
When they reached a secluded patch of sunlit stone beneath the Red Keep's inner garden wall, Ned stopped. He turned to face her fully.
"Cersei," he said quietly, "I know the truth."
For a moment, her mask slipped—her eyes widened just slightly before hardening again."I'm not sure I follow."
"Joffrey is not Robert's son," Ned said plainly. "Nor are the others."
Silence stretched between them like a drawn bowstring.
"These are dangerous accusations, Lord Stark," she replied, voice low and sharp."To speak them aloud is treason."
"Perhaps," Ned admitted. "But I'm not here to destroy you. Not yet. The children... they don't deserve to die. I came to offer you a choice."
Her brow lifted. "A choice?"
"Take them," Ned said. "Leave King's Landing. Go to Essos. Disappear. If you go now, perhaps we can avoid a war."
Cersei stared at him, incredulous. Then a cold, bitter laugh escaped her lips."You would have me abandon my claim, my children's claim, and run? Like a coward? Do you think I spent years clawing my way through court just to flee into the shadows?"
Ned's face was impassive."If you don't," he said grimly, "the truth will come out. And when it does, there will be blood—yours, Robert's, and your children's. I'm trying to give you a way out, Cersei."
She looked away, her jaw clenched tight, the sun casting shadows across her face.
"You're a good man, Lord Stark," she said finally. "But that will be your downfall."
They stood in silence, both aware that the wheel had begun to turn—and it would crush anything in its path.