Chapter II: Mother and son
Joffrey sat leisurely in a comforting stool and nipped at his wine to hide his annoyance of being begged by his mother to speak in private in his solar. He was intrigued by Cersei's way of acting, whispering mysterious words of needs into his ear while he had been recharging his crossbow in the practicing field. Joffrey had loosened that arrow. Anything else would have been a waste of efforts. He had aimed at the middle of the target but hit only the rim of it neatly.
"You're bad luck", he had growled at his mother. "You'd better have a good reason to disturb me like this."
"It should be a matter of importance what you'll have to tell", the young king had said aloud.
Now standing in the king's solar, Cersei's cheeks reddened. "Appoint … a new King's hand and send your grand-father of fighting Robb Stark again, or sooner or later it will be he who rules, not you!"
"Tell me some news, mother. What is it that your father enraged you the way to come to me head-first?" He sipped wine again.
Cersei panted. "He wants me to marry the cripple, Willas Tyrell!"
Joffrey giggled first and sat his wine cup onto the table in front of him. Then it turned into mad laughter, which choke his whole body. His golden crown slid a bit. Absent-minded, he adjusted it with his hand but didn't stop laughing.
Again Cersei's cheeks reddened. She turned and slammed the door a second time this day.
Author's note: Have you noticed? Yes, in the books, it's Willas Tyrell. In HBO's "Game of Thrones" S3, there it is his brother, Loras Tyrell. If you don't believe me, look it up in the books again.