I couldn't stop smiling all the way to the camp. I enjoyed every step I took with this body. Although it took some effort to remember what it was like to walk and move in general. And it was still difficult — I had to control literally everything, even my breathing. Usually, the human mind does all this without even noticing, but in my case, it didn't work — I had cornered the mind of the body's owner and taken control myself. So I had to suffer for a while.
So, from now on, my name was Joffrey Baratheon, and I was the heir to King Robert Baratheon and the son of Cersei Baratheon, née Lannister. The land I found myself in was called Westeros. I didn't know anything about this country, I had never even heard of it. Just as here, no one knew or had heard of the Forest Country. Unfortunately, it seemed that a lot of time had passed since my exile, since the Forest Country had sunk into oblivion. And anyway, what kind of name was that — Joffrey? It was different in the old days — names like Dragomir, Vladislav, Velislavna, Ratibor. Even the names of heroes inspired respect! And here? "Joffrey." It sounds like someone threw up, a weak name, like its bearer. "Lord Joffrey of Westeros" doesn't sound right at all.
But there are advantages to my situation, despite the stupid name — it's unlikely that any of the vile descendants of the Titans have survived to this day! And it's unlikely that anyone else remembers the existence of the Lord's bracelet! And in this Joffrey's memory, I couldn't find even a single mention of the Singing Things. However, this was not indicative — the boy was surprisingly careless in his studies and there were huge gaps in his education, which now means I will have to hit the books!
Some thoughts from the oppressed Joffrey still reached my consciousness, but they only annoyed me and I successfully ignored them. In time, in ten years or so, the boy's mind will give up and fall into madness, and then he will stop bothering me. In the meantime, I will endure; I am simply a champion of patience.
The camp of the king, my new father, had already been dismantled, and the entire royal procession was ready to move on. They were just waiting for... no, not me, but the king, who was currently screwing some village whore. And he wasn't even trying to hide it! His wife, Cersei, my new mother, was nearby. At first, I was even pleased with such sexual freedom in Westeros; I myself liked the idea of a harem... But it turned out that King Robert was just a drunken pig who didn't give a damn about propriety, and his crown was the only reason why none of his entourage had yet pointed out his unacceptable behavior from the point of view of local morals.
Well, not bad anyway. Although I admit, it's pretty cruel to treat your supposed wife that way. He didn't even invite her to join!
I saw Cersei very quickly and, to be honest, she was quite beautiful, even despite her age. Golden hair, pleasant features, a nice figure... And incest is hardly held in high regard here. Damn it!
The queen loved and worried about her first son, now me. She asked me questions, hovered around me like a mother hen... In short, she was annoying. I answered her without even thinking about what I was saying, just some typical reassuring nonsense I had picked up from Joffrey's memory.
While Cersei was chattering about something, I had already mounted the horse that had been brought to me. Fortunately, the prince had diligently learned how to ride, and I was able to master the skill from his memories — before that, I had never had the opportunity to travel in this way, I always preferred teleportation.
By the time I got used to controlling the horse, the king deigned to finish with the girl he had found, and the whole procession was finally able to set off. Another plus was that Cersei retired to her carriage and stopped bothering me. She had a beautiful voice, but her excessive concern was annoying. No wonder her son grew up to be such a weakling. Ah, I remember in the old days, the Vikings would throw their children out into the wild forest at the age of eight with only a dagger. And that was it, fend for yourself. I'm not sure if this was a common tradition or if Dragomir was just "lucky."
We still had several hours to go, and I was mentally glad that I was almost at the end of the journey with this whole crowd. The king's final destination, which everyone had been traveling to for a month, was Winterfell Castle, which belonged to Lord Eddard Stark, an old friend and comrade-in-arms of my "father." Joffrey did not know what the king wanted from Stark, but he did not want to go for many reasons. The main ones were twofold: it was cold in the North, of which Stark was the Guardian, and Joffrey strongly disliked this family because of the influence of his mother, née Lannister.
I couldn't care less about all these family squabbles, and I only delved into them out of boredom during the journey. Of course, I would have been delighted to find a few virgins in the nearest village, even if they weren't the most beautiful, and lock myself in a house with them, a ton of food, and wine. But alas, I was not yet king, so no one was waiting for me.
The relationships within the Baratheon family were also an interesting topic to study. Cersei, like any mother, adored her children. Robert couldn't care less; he married for political necessity, which is typical for a ruler. The king's brothers didn't particularly like Cersei's children either... Although, no, that's not true. They didn't like Joffrey specifically, who, despite all his spoiledness and cowardice, was still a bastard in life. I got a nasty, spiteful, and petty mortal as my carrier.
Even his own brother and sister hated and feared their older brother. Heck, even the Hound, whom Joffrey considered his most loyal defender, treated the little bastard with little respect, guarding him solely on the orders of the Lannister family, whom he served.
I inherited a pretty reputation, no doubt about it. But I'm not complaining! Anything is better than eternal imprisonment in emptiness. I was even lucky! I could have ended up in the hands of some swineherd.
My thoughts drifted to my current "father," King Robert, who was riding ahead of me. He was still a fairly young man, but fat and perpetually drunk and debauched. Many years ago, he had seized power in the kingdom by force, which earned my respect, but as a result, he turned out to be a lousy king.
He reminded me of Dragomir in some ways. The only difference was that the Viking, with my help, was a much better ruler than Robert. And he didn't allow himself to get fat, even though he ate and drank for ten at feasts! But he didn't forget about training and battles, which allowed him to maintain his physical strength until his death.
And what was Robert? A shadow of his former self, if Joffrey's tutors are to be believed. On the other hand, that's good — I'll have fewer problems in the future. It's funny that, despite all this, Joffrey secretly dreamed of his father's approval, craving his praise like a dying man craves a glass of water. But he was too weak-minded and stupid to win his father's favor. I could have done it for him, easily... But why would I want the favor of a mortal stranger? No, if it threatened my succession to the crown, then of course. But without reason, let everything remain as it is. I didn't give a damn about the fat king's opinion.
As we rode along, with a huge column of people and horses moving behind me, I did not forget to enjoy the view of nature. After all, it was the only pleasure available to me, and it was nice not to hang around aimlessly in the void, but to move along a bad road, surrounded by relatively intelligent mortals, and feel the cool, refreshing breeze on my face.
Few of the king's entourage shared my joy, but what did I care about the discomfort of these mortals?
Every journey eventually comes to an end. Ours did too.
The Stark castle of Winterfell was huge and gloomy. Its very appearance suggested that its walls were inhabited by stern and serious people. It reminded me of my fortress on the Flying Island. Except that it was much more majestic.
All of its inhabitants gathered in the castle courtyard and beyond. Many shouted, welcoming their king, but some remained silent, and it was unclear why: was it Northern sullenness, or were they simply not happy to see Robert?
The entire Stark family lined up in the castle courtyard. As the heir apparent, I was one of the first to arrive. And, of course, the Starks were exactly as I had imagined them from Robert and Cersei's descriptions from Joffrey's memory.
As soon as Robert approached the waiting Starks, they, like all their people, knelt before their king. Amazingly, I definitely like this attitude towards the ruler. Although they could have knelt on both knees, of course.
Robert did not keep his old friend and his family in a kneeling position and gestured for them to rise. They started talking about something with Lord Stark, laughing and hugging each other. I didn't care about their chatter. I just looked at the people standing in front of me, forming my own opinion about them. And so far, I hadn't found anything noteworthy — mortals like mortals, no better and no worse than others. I didn't see anyone even remotely resembling the warriors from Dragomir's retinue.
But the girls were... pretty. For example, the Starks' eldest daughter, Sansa. Funny, but what Joffrey had heard about her didn't match my expectations at all. Sansa was a Northerner, and I expected to see a typical Viking girl — strong, brave, and warlike. But instead, she was more like a Byzantine woman — refined, well-mannered, and romantic. That wasn't a bad thing in itself, and Sansa had a chance to become one of my concubines.
If only Robert had not intended to marry us. In this way, he wished to bind the two families — the Baratheons and the Starks — with unbreakable blood ties. I understood the political necessity of this step... But even as Lord of the Forest, neither I nor Dragomir wanted to marry anyone! Marriage implies children as heirs, but what use are heirs to an immortal ruler? Although perhaps that was my mistake? I will have to think about it. Nevertheless, I had no intention of producing heirs in the coming decades. I will undoubtedly have children; there is no way around it. But I intend to treat them the same way as the Lord—all my sons and daughters will serve me faithfully as warriors, raised and trained by me personally.
But that is a matter for the future.
While I was thinking and openly admiring the Starks' eldest daughter (she reciprocated, but even from a single glance I could see that she had romantic nonsense about a prince on a white horse in her head), the royal carriage arrived at the castle courtyard with Cersei and a detachment of bodyguards from among the knights loyal to the Lannisters and the Royal Guards, one of whom was Jaime Lannister, the queen's brother and my uncle.
The royal guard, also known as the White Cloaks, were the elite of the knighthood. There were always exactly seven of them, and their sole task was to serve their own king. They were the strongest and most noble knights in the entire kingdom. Their loyalty was considered boundless. Hmm, except that Jaime stabbed the previous king in the back at the end of the Baratheon rebellion. Officially, Robert forgave him for this, but the "Kingslayer" was constantly reminded of his dishonor. True, few did so to his face, as Jaime was considered the best fencer in Westeros. It would be interesting to meet him in combat, although I knew the outcome in advance — no mortal could be a worthy opponent for me... Except for the cursed descendants of the Titans!
The king took Ned Stark aside to talk to him about something, while Cersei also paid her respects to the family of the castle's owner. According to etiquette, it was my turn. Fortunately, Joffrey was a much more diligent student of etiquette than of all other sciences, and I didn't even have to work hard to retrieve the necessary memories from his mind.
"My lady," I bowed slightly to the lord's wife, Catelyn Stark.
The woman smiled faintly, but her gaze remained wary. Without a doubt, she had heard about Joffrey's character; everyone had. How difficult it would be for me at first because of such a "legacy"!
Lady Stark introduced her children one by one: her eldest son Robb, her middle son Brandon, and her youngest son Rickon, as well as her two daughters, Sansa and Arya. Sansa, as before, kept her admiring gaze fixed on me. And, I must admit, she had good reason to: Joffrey really did look like he had stepped out of the pages of a fairy tale — golden-haired, slender, handsome, dressed in rich royal robes adorned with purple and gold, with a sword at his side... Truly, a prince from the fantasies of young fools. Arya, on the other hand, was small and clearly dissatisfied with etiquette. She was as different from her sister as heaven is from earth.
There were two others who were mentioned by Lady Stark: Theon Greyjoy, a ward, or rather a hostage of the Starks and heir to Lord Greyjoy, and Jon Snow, the bastard son of Ned Stark himself. And Catelyn did not particularly like the latter, judging by her tone, which already said a lot about her. After all, Jon's presence in the castle was a constant reminder to Catelyn that her husband had not been completely faithful to her. What a sophisticated mockery Lord Stark had come up with!
When the introductions were over, Catelyn and Cersei slowly made their way to the castle, and the knights accompanying us began to settle into their new quarters. Somehow, unnoticed behind my back, the figure of the Hound, my loyal and diligent bodyguard, had grown taller.
"You are free for today," I said to him, and the man nodded silently.
The Hound was a good warrior. Even without using magic, I could feel the unquenchable fire of hatred burning inside him, and it alone continued to fuel his life. In the past, I would have been happy to have such a man in my army. But he was not loyal to me personally, which negated all his merits. If I wanted to see this man on my side, I would need to somehow gain his loyalty. However, I don't think that will be difficult.
The Stark children were still standing in front of me. None of them deserved my attention except Robb. His gaze burned with undisguised defiance and outright contempt for me. More precisely, for Joffrey, not me. Without a doubt, this boy had also heard all the rumors that the crown prince was a complete bastard.
For a second, I almost gave the order to execute this rebellious mortal... But I quickly remembered that I was no longer the Lord of the Forest. Although theoretically I could have ordered Robb Stark's head to be cut off, it would have caused me a lot of problems now and in the future. And it's wrong to judge a person for his attitude not even towards me, but towards that whiny piece of personality that I locked deep in my subconscious.
I've already been burned once for doing whatever I wanted. Now I have to be... wiser. And a little more restrained. At least for now.
I didn't know what to talk about with the Stark children and was even glad when I heard Arya's question:
"Where's the Imp?" Her voice betrayed curiosity mixed with disappointment.
The Imp was the nickname of Jaime and Cersei's brother, Tyrion. And he probably had a worse reputation than I did. He was known as a lecher and a drunkard, not to mention that behind his back he was called nothing but "the ugly dwarf." The Lannisters had always been known for their beauty, and Tyrion, especially in comparison to his brother and sister, looked like a mockery of fate. The dwarf compensated for his unattractive appearance with a sharp mind and cynicism.
And yes, Tyrion's relationship with his nephew, that is, now me, was very complicated, based on mutual contempt. Interestingly, Cersei's two other children, who also came to Winterfell with their mother, simply adored Tyrion, as he adored them.
What kind of scum were you, Joffrey, that no one can say a good word about you? Perhaps I am the best thing that could have happened to you in your miserable, meaningless life. You can thank me later.
"Where is our brother?" Cersei asked Jaime quietly. "Go find him."
"I'll go with Uncle Jaime," I said immediately, approaching the queen. "I want to look around here, and it won't hurt to stretch my legs after the journey."