Joffrey was on his way to the throne room. As king, he had many responsibilities, and today he would be helping the smallfolk with their petty complaints.
Again. It was so dull, their lives so pointless. I don't understand how they can live like that. If I were like them, I'd want to die.
Perhaps he would help some of them today, he thought. Help them end their miserable existence.
Suddenly, heat and orange light surrounded him. He fell, dazed, to the floor.
A few moments passed, and he started to be able to focus a bit better.
The ground was rough now. Where am I? Mother? What's happening?
Suddenly, the ground thundered. A mountain of rough fabric moved towards him.
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