❝ You and I against the world, my love. Let us bring it to it's knees. ❞
Even the gods were not able to defeat Lyra Stark and Joffrey Baratheon, for once they put their minds to a cause, the gods were forced to step aside and let them past.
QUEENS...
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{ Joffrey }
✧✦✧
𝕵offrey woke first that morning, which was a rarity in itself. Normally, he found himself sleeping longer with his wife by his side, as the presence of her relaxed him. This morning was different. Lyra's face was buried into his neck, and Joffrey found himself running a hand through her hair as he tried to wake her.
"Lyra," The girl groaned, pulling away from his neck to glare at him. "Come on, we have a busy day ahead of us."
"All the more reason to sleep longer now," Joffrey huffed, pulling back from the girl so that he could slip from the bed. Elia opened one eye, before curling back around Lyra's feet.
Stretching his shoulders, Joffrey grabbed his shirt from the back of a dining room chair, yawning as he looked over his basic notes for the day.
"Joff," Lyra whined, leaning in the door frame with an annoyed look on her fate. "Work can wait, please, let's just relax before we are descended upon by everyone asking about our opinions of the trial."
"That is exactly the reason why work can not wait," Joffrey hummed, flicking through the pages, as Lyra padded over and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning into his shoulder. The king tensed momentarily, before relaxing and turning to look down at his wife.
"Come on, surely a few more minutes of rest can not hurt us."
"I suppose not," A knock sounded on the door, as Lyra groaned, rolling her eyes. "Would you look at that, My Love. It's time to get up."
"They have terrible timing,"
"Your Grace," Arah stepped into the room, curtsying deeply as she swept over to Lyra. "Come on, Your Grace, let's get you changed."
"If we must," Joffrey huffed, rolling his eyes in amusement, as his own manservant, Rolan, walked into the room.
"Any other news that I should know of before the trial at noon?" Joffrey asked, as Rolan handed him his normal dark jacket, helping the young king to shrug it on.
"No, Your Grace," Rolan replied, placing Joffrey's boots down, as the man slipped into them. "You have a Small Council meeting first, to speak on the trial procedure and what to expect."
"I see," Joffrey replied, before waving the man off. "We'll break our fast and then leave for the Small Council meeting."
"Of course, Your Grace," Rolan bowed as he left the room, leaving Joffrey to do the final few buttons of his jacket up by himself.
