The armor worn by the City Watch of King's Landing was actually black.
Even the officers only had a little extra decoration: a breastplate with four small golden discs mounted on the front.
They were called Gold Cloaks for one simple reason.
The thick wool cloaks dyed bright gold that hung from their shoulders were impossible to miss, especially when they marched through the city streets carrying spears and swords.
As the standing force of the capital, the City Watch dwarfed the garrisons of ordinary castles.
There were two thousand of them.
Their combat ability was formidable as well.
Under the wise leadership of Lord Janos Slynt, the ranks were now filled with all kinds of "talent" from Flea Bottom.
Thieves. Rogues. Desperate men drowning in debt with nowhere else to go.
As long as someone paid the enlistment fee, they could transform overnight into honorable soldiers serving directly under the king.
So when Joffrey decided to dabble in certain less-than-respectable businesses, the commander of the Gold Cloaks was the perfect partner.
Janos sat across from him, licking his thick lips as he nervously glanced at the Hound standing nearby with a hand resting on his sword.
A deeply flattering smile spread across his frog-like face.
"Your Highness," he said quickly, "what orders do you have for me?"
Joffrey simply lifted the engraved silver wine pitcher on the table and poured two cups of summer red.
"You must be thirsty after coming all this way. Wet your throat first."
Janos stretched out his hands eagerly.
After confirming that Joffrey had already taken a sip, he drank deeply.
"The tournament will begin soon," Joffrey said, setting down his cup slowly.
"Besides the usual knightly duels, there will be the group melee, the seven-against-seven battle, and many smaller events. Altogether there will be over a hundred matches."
"The fights will be exciting, but if spectators sit in the stands for too long, eating pies and drinking ale alone may not be enough entertainment."
He raised his eyes and looked directly at Janos.
"So I invited you here to discuss how the two of us might cooperate."
The hand that had just begun pouring more wine froze in midair.
"Your Highness… the kind of thing you are talking about already exists in King's Landing," Janos said nervously.
"In the alleys and taverns. Everyone understands it without saying."
"I know," Joffrey replied with a smile. "And the one who runs the largest and most reliable operation..."
"That would be our beloved Master of Coin, Lord Petyr Baelish. Am I right?"
A loud swallowing sound echoed in the room.
Fine beads of sweat appeared along Janos's temples, glistening in the candlelight.
"Lord Petyr does have... certain business dealings," Janos said cautiously.
"Most people know a little."
"But you are the commander of the Gold Cloaks," Joffrey said while sipping his wine.
"So naturally, you must know more than 'most people.'"
"But Your Highness!" Janos blurted, his voice rising slightly.
"Lord Petyr may seem gentle and always smiling when he speaks…"
"But if he learns someone has touched his cake…" The fat on his neck wobbled as he shook his head. "I dare not imagine the consequences."
"Consequences?" Joffrey let out a soft laugh and set his empty cup down on the table with a tap.
"Lord Janos, let me ask you something. The wages of two thousand Gold Cloaks. Who pays them every month?"
Janos opened his mouth but said nothing.
"It is Lord Petyr, correct?"
Joffrey answered for him.
Then he continued calmly. "And where does that money come from?"
"From... from the royal treasury of the Iron Throne," Janos muttered.
"Exactly." Joffrey spread his hands.
"I, Joffrey, simply wish to add a small game to my own nameday celebration."
"To ensure safety and order, I have asked the City Watch to help maintain order and keep away troublesome elements."
His smile deepened, though his eyes remained cold. "So tell me, why would our dear Lord Petyr come looking for trouble with either of us?"
"Every gold dragon he spends belongs to my family."
Janos sat frozen, his expression shifting back and forth.
After several breaths, he suddenly grabbed his wine cup and drained it in one gulp.
The alcohol rushed to his face and gave him a little courage.
"Then why not go directly to Lord Petyr?" Janos asked cautiously.
"He would certainly be happy to set up a private betting pool for you. Whether you win or lose, the profit would be yours. It would be safe and convenient."
Joffrey shrugged.
"If others do everything for me, where is the fun?"
He pushed a rolled parchment across the table.
"These are some simple rules I drafted, along with a few methods to attract customers. Take a look."
Janos clumsily unrolled the parchment and leaned close, squinting at it.
Just by watching his awkward effort to pretend he understood the writing, Joffrey realized the truth.
This was another man who could barely read his own name.
"It seems Lord Janos is far too busy with official duties to examine it carefully," Joffrey said kindly as he pulled the parchment back.
"In that case, when you go to speak with Lord Petyr later…"
"Tell him that I, being young and foolish, came up with a few ideas but fear I might have overlooked something."
"So I would like the Master of Coin to give me some advice."
Janos nodded automatically, then suddenly shook his head in denial.
"Why would I go speak with Lord Petyr? Your Highness must understand. My dealings with him are strictly official. We have no personal relationship."
"Yes, you have no connection with him," Joffrey said calmly.
"And I certainly have no connection with 'that person' either."
Janos blinked his small eyes, clearly using every bit of brainpower he had to figure out who "that person" might be.
Joffrey did not give him long to think.
He leaned back in his chair casually.
"During the tournament, the curfew will be extended. The Gold Cloaks will maintain order in the streets and the arena during the day."
"But whether they work somewhere else at night..."
"That will depend on Lord Janos's arrangements."
"As for the profits," Joffrey continued slowly while raising two fingers, "whether they are divided between two people..."
"Or three."
"That will also depend on your arrangements."
Janos glanced repeatedly between Joffrey's calm face and his own sweat-soaked hands.
Finally he grabbed the wine pitcher and drank straight from the spout.
Dark red wine spilled from the corners of his mouth, flowing down his double chin and staining his embroidered coat.
"Your Highness," he said, his small eyes shining with reckless greed.
"During the tournament, you may play however you wish."
"I guarantee that no one will dare cause you even the slightest trouble."
Janos puffed out his fat chest, trying to appear resolute. "The City Watch's foremost duty is to ensure that royal celebrations proceed smoothly!"
Joffrey simply nodded with a faint smile.
He said nothing more and gestured that the man could leave.
Janos bowed awkwardly.
Then he grabbed the parchment, hurried to the door, and disappeared into the hallway.
Silence returned to the room.
Joffrey glanced at the Hound, who looked a little thirsty, and quietly finished the remaining wine from the silver pitcher.
He had no intention of accidentally harming such a loyal guard and friend.
As for Littlefinger...
His infiltration and control over the City Watch seemed even deeper than Joffrey had originally expected.
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