It was noon, and Winterfell was filled with excitent over the news of Bran's awakening.
Joffrey, who had been badly frightened by the giant bear the previous day, had sowhat recovered after a night of rest. Though his spirit remained poor, he still walked through the castle with Sandor Clegane, the Hound, following closely behind him.
As they passed near the kennels, Joffrey once again overheard servants discussing Bran's awakening. He imdiately curled his lip in disdain.
"I heard Theon pushed Bran from the tower and broke his back?"
Joffrey deliberately raised his voice while glancing provocatively at the surrounding servants.
So of the attendants beca angry at once, but after recognizing the prince, they could only grit their teeth and leave silently.
The Hound, who understood Joffrey's personality very well, replied indifferently, "Yes, Your Highness."
"Even if that child wakes up, he'll still only be a cripple. He'll never walk, ride a horse, or wield a sword again."
Joffrey's face imdiately filled with contempt.
"A cripple? If it were , I'd rather die than cling to life like that."
Sandor Clegane followed closely behind and casually added, "Actually, His Majesty said sothing similar last night after he got drunk."
"Oh?"
Joffrey's interest was imdiately piqued. He stopped walking and turned toward the Hound.
"What did Father say?"
Sandor calmly recalled the scene from the previous night.
"When I escorted His Majesty back to his chambers, he said that since Bran had beco crippled, it would be kinder to grant the boy rcy and allow him to die with dignity."
A strange light instantly flashed through Joffrey's eyes.
"Father really said that?"
Sandor nodded firmly.
"I heard it with my own ears."
Joffrey's gaze shifted rapidly as excitent slowly spread across his face.
"If I grant Bran rcy just as Father said…"
"Then Father will definitely be pleased with once he learns about it."
"And after that, he surely won't keep ntioning my disgraceful performance in the Wolfswood anymore."
The more Joffrey thought about it, the more excited he beca. He could not help but laugh softly to himself, causing Sandor to frown in confusion.
"Your Highness?"
Joffrey quickly restrained himself.
"Nothing."
"Hound, take to where the Baratheon knights are staying."
Sandor Clegane had long since grown accustod to Joffrey's strange impulses and bizarre orders. Without asking questions, he simply escorted Joffrey toward the lodgings of House Baratheon's bannern and knights within Winterfell.
Since there was no hunt that day, most of the knights and retainers had gathered together drinking wine, chatting loudly, and discussing the events of the previous day.
When they noticed Prince Joffrey approaching, they imdiately stood and saluted respectfully, though many wore puzzled expressions.
Joffrey calmly scanned the crowd, secretly searching for a suitable target.
Very quickly, he selected a sellsword among them.
Using an excuse, Joffrey dismissed Sandor Clegane for a while and privately spoke with the man alone.
Under the temptation of gold dragons, the sellsword finally agreed to Joffrey's request and prepared to assassinate Bran that very night once an opportunity appeared.
After arranging everything, Joffrey returned to his chambers in high spirits.
anwhile, Garon's plan was also quietly proceeding.
Under Ned's orders, Ser Rodrik led a group of loyal Winterfell guards to secretly establish watch posts throughout both Winterfell and Winter Town.
Anyone entering or leaving the area under suspicious circumstances would imdiately be monitored.
Inside the main keep, the unconscious Bran was quietly moved to another chamber.
His original bedroom now contained only several carefully selected Winterfell guards.
So hid inside wardrobes, others concealed themselves beneath the bed, while one soldier even lay beneath the blankets pretending to be Bran himself.
Because the success of the plan depended on secrecy, neither Robert nor Ned inford anyone outside the operation.
Even Sansa and Arya remained unaware.
However, Cersei secretly inford Jai of the plan, causing the previously tense Kingslayer to relax imdiately.
Once all preparations had been completed, Ned quietly called Garon aside.
On the covered bridge connecting the main keep to the armory, Ned stood silently beside the window, gazing down toward the bustling training grounds below.
"Lord Ned."
After dismissing his attendant, Garon walked over and respectfully greeted him.
Hearing Garon's voice, Ned did not imdiately turn around. He seed lost in thought.
Only after a long mont did he finally speak.
"Garon, how many days have you stayed in Winterfell now?"
"Five days," Garon answered imdiately.
"Five days…"
Ned repeated the words thoughtfully before continuing in a low voice.
"It's ti for you to return."
Garon's eyes flickered slightly, but he did not interrupt and silently waited for Ned's explanation.
"Theon's death will soon reach the Iron Islands."
"Ti is running short. You must return to Deepwood Motte as quickly as possible and prepare to defend against an attack from the Ironborn at any mont."
Garon imdiately understood.
"Yes. Once this matter concludes, I'll return to Deepwood Motte."
But Ned unexpectedly shook his head.
"No."
"You and Jon Snow will depart tomorrow."
Garon froze montarily.
"What about the plan?"
Ned calmly replied, "The plan does not require you to remain in Winterfell."
"And frankly, it may not succeed at all."
"The Queen already knows about it, which ans Jai certainly knows as well."
"How could they possibly fall into such an obvious trap and send soone to assassinate Bran?"
Ned's suspicion toward Jai had never weakened.
In his mind, it was undoubtedly the Kingslayer who manipulated Theon and conspired against House Stark.
"The Kingslayer has never possessed any honor."
"Garon, after you return to Deepwood Motte, the first thing you must do is send one hundred archers to reinforce Moat Cailin."
Garon was slightly startled and instinctively lowered his voice.
"My Lord… are you planning to detain Jai in the North?"
It was no wonder Garon misunderstood.
Moat Cailin guarded the Neck and served as the only true passage between the North and the South.
For thousands of years, the North had relied upon its terrain to repel countless southern invasions.
For Ned to suddenly order additional archers stationed there was practically equivalent to preparing for war against House Lannister.
Garon could not help wondering whether Ned, consud by fury over Bran's injuries, intended to execute Jai in the North.
But Ned simply shook his head.
"You misunderstand."
"Moat Cailin protects both the North and the South. I'm rely taking precautions."
"Go now. Say farewell to Robb and Sansa."
"You leave at dawn tomorrow."
Ned waved his hand, dismissing him.
"Yes, Lord Ned."
Garon withdrew from the bridge with mixed emotions before heading off to bid farewell to everyone.
As the farewells continued, night gradually descended upon Winterfell.
Dinner within the Great Hall beca strangely silent and oppressive.
Almost everyone present was preoccupied with their own concerns.
Sansa and Arya were reluctant to see Garon leave.
Robb remained worried about Bran while also saddened by Garon's imminent departure.
Ned himself appeared especially distracted. He barely endured accompanying the royal family through supper before quickly finding an excuse to leave.
Robert also abandoned the Queen and his children and followed closely behind him.
Cersei watched them leave with a mocking smile hidden at the corner of her lips.
She had already inford Jai of the trap.
Even if they waited until the Others crossed the Wall, nobody would co to assassinate Bran tonight.
Calmly, she finished the wine in her goblet before taking Joffrey, Tomn, and Myrcella back toward their chambers.
Tomorrow morning, she intended to personally watch Ned and Robert embarrass themselves.
However, what Cersei failed to notice was that Joffrey was equally excited.
"Haha… after tonight, Bran Stark will finally die."
"Father will definitely praise for being so much like him!"
Just imagining Robert praising him caused Joffrey's body to tremble with excitent.
As for the consequences of the assassination, or whether the attempt might fail, none of those thoughts had ever crossed his mind.
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