After half an hour of being treated like a powder keg I told the maid to leave me be , and that I would make my way to the courtyard before the caravan is scheduled to depart.

I could go and interact with my family, of course but there was no hurry.

From king's landing to Winterfell there was a long way to go , and the journey would last a month or more .

The limits of my soul could be tested while I let my body ,,sleep,, so that also wasn't a priority.

No , what I needed to do right now was gain perfect motor control of this body.

This body's parents and siblings weren't the most observant and concerned, but even they would notice if ,,Joffrey,, suddenly forgot how to walk properly.

That was an exaggeration , of course.

I knew how to walk ever since two hours ago , thank you very much...

There were also many benefits that resulted from being able to perfectly control this body , such as fighting and....yeah , mostly fighting.

As shameful as it was , I had literally no way to defend my flesh golem if a random soldier decided they wanted me dead.

Sure , I had my Sworn Shield and he seemed like an ok guy , but I would rather be a warrior in a garden than a gardener in a war.

And so, I stripped myself of the clothes the maid put on me and started training.

I will have to clean myself once more after I finish but that's ok.

I'm not some pampered prince that needs a maid to help him do even the most basic tasks...

Now let's put some muscle on these bones.

Also , let's try juggling.

.

.

My body was burning.

Good , that's just weakness leaving the body.

I went through a full body workout, using bodyweight exercises .

Pushups , squats, lunges , jumping jacks and many , many core exercises...

Later , I would need to separate the exercises for each muscle group and do them on different days to maximize hypertrophy.

As Arnold Schwarzenegger's once said , "You can't do a bit of this and a bit of that and expect me to not whoop your ass" , or something along those lines.

This body was pitifully weak , though...

How can some parents not understand that sheltering a child more than necessary does sometimes more harm then good?

How could Cersei expect her son to be a good king , never having had to think for himself?

Never having to feel the repercussions of his own actions...

Never learning from his mistakes.

It was a recipe for disaster.

But lamenting about a future that may or may not happen in a parallel universe doesn't help me at all so I'll stop doing it.

I took two golden dragon coins from a drawer and stared throwing them from one hand to the other....

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.

After finishing my workout, I did a bit stretching ,

(Mobility is always important after all...) followed by a quick rinse with cold water from a barrel to get rid of my sweat .

Damn , I quite missed water...and sweat is still annoying as fuck.

Speaking of water , though...I can't help but realize I'm not thirsty...at all.

Not being thirsty after waking up...weird , but it happens sometimes.

Not being thirsty after three hours since waking up...very fucking weird but it might happen?

But not being thirsty after one hour of nonstop training...absofuckinglutely impossible.

I went near my bed and grabbed the bottle I had seen sitting there since earlier, drinking all the water inside in one go.

There are two possibilities here...

One - My soul is still not completely in sync with this brain's hypothalamus (where the thirst and hunger centers are) and I don't feel thirst and maybe hunger.

This would be annoying since my body could die easily if I forget to drink.

Two - Soul fuckery

Somehow , the energy that is passively emitted by my soul is turning into chemical energy and powers up my body .

This theory would line up with the demon soul one , since I didn't see my wardens ever eating physical food..

More tests are needed to validate either one of my hypotheses .

But until then , I will play it safe by eating and drinking at fixed intervals...

.

.

.

After clothing myself , I exited ,,my,, chambers and called on the first maid I saw.

"Maid , lead me to the court courtyard" I didn't need to explain why I wanted an escort. ,,I,, was the prince after all.

I could command these servants to jump and they would only ask me how high.

They would also hate me even more afterwards, but eh , such is life.

You can't be liked by everyone, and shouldn't strive for it to be that way.

"Of course, your Royal Highness! Please follow me" the maid agreed instantly.

No more words were needed, and so we departed for the courtyard, the maid's previous chore all but forgotten...

.

.

.

.

It was a short walk , and I made sure to memorize it. I could always ask a maid to guide me everywhere but doing it too many times would surely rise suspicion.

Maybe I'll ask for a map of the castle...

But that's for later.

Now I walked between nobles, returning all their greetings , but my haughty body posture (one I specifically chose) made them understand I won't take kindly to being bothered.

The caravan was quite big , with many soldiers to act as guards.

And just as many nobles who thought that by following the king like faithful dogs , they would gain his goodwill.

Eddard Stark said in the book that the king took half his court with him to Winterfell and that might just be the case...

'Where the king goes , the realm follows , huh?'

But they all parted like the Red Sea before Moses when seeing the crown prince coming towards them .

Quite a funny image .

An image I ignored as I made my way towards my destination.

------------

Third person pov:

Nestled within the heart of the bustling courtyard, a sight of unparalleled splendor awaited.

The royal carriage stood resplendent, a masterwork of craftsmanship and heraldry.

Its towering wheels were rimmed with polished ebony.

The frame, crafted from rich mahogany, bore intricate carvings of intertwining vines and thorns, an homage to the rugged beauty of the Stormlands.

But it was the crest emblazoned on the carriage's sides that stole the breath of onlookers.

A crowned stag, majestic and powerful, loomed over all, its black silhouette standing out against a background of deepest crimson.

The intricacies of the carving were breathtaking: every curve of the stag's antlers, every ripple of its fur, every nuance of its posture, captured with uncanny precision.

Gilded accents adorned the carriage's exterior, tracing the lines of the crest and twining elegantly along the upper edges.

The symbol of House Baratheon, a dynasty renowned for its fierce resilience, was not just an emblem; it was a statement of authority and an emblem of the realm's might.

Prince Joffrey's entrance into the ornate royal carriage was a moment of both expectation and quiet majesty.

Clad in regal attire befitting his station, he ascended the carriage steps with a measured grace, every movement imbued with an air of restrained authority.

The sunlight filtered through the carriage's gilded window frames, casting a warm glow that seemed to enhance the golden embroidery of his garments.

His clothing bore the distinctive colors of House Baratheon, a melding of black and gold that whispered of his lineage.

A high-collared black doublet, meticulously embroidered with intricate golden thread, framed his tall and lean figure. The gold accents caught the light, casting fleeting sparks of brilliance as he moved.

The question that lingered unspoken on everyone's lips was whether the prince had always possessed such a presence, an innate majesty that demanded attention and inspired admiration.

His youthful countenance, touched by the brilliance of a rising sun, spoke of a potential that was both profound and promising.

As Prince Joffrey stepped into the carriage, the rich scent of polished wood and fine fabrics enveloped him in an atmosphere of regal comfort.

His eyes, adjusting to the dimmer light within, were drawn to the interior where his family awaited.

Sitting side by side on plush scarlet cushions, his mother, Queen Cersei, and his siblings, Tommen and Myrcella, were a tableau of familial unity. Cersei's golden hair caught the ambient light, framing her face in a halo of radiance.

Her gaze, steady and unwavering, met Joffrey's as he entered, a silent exchange that spoke of a mother's love and guidance.

Beside her, Tommen's youthful countenance was illuminated with awe, his wide blue eyes fixed on Joffrey with unmasked admiration.

Myrcella, a portrait of gentle grace, sat with a demure smile that held a depth of understanding shared only among siblings.

Joffrey's steps brought him closer to his family, the anticipation of reunion mingling with the weight of his responsibilities. Their presence, the familiar faces that held the threads of his childhood memories, were a testament to the unbreakable ties that bound them...

"Mother" Joffrey addressed her with a mixture of respect and fondness, his voice carrying a subtle undercurrent of the authority he was growing into.

Cersei's smile held a mother's pride, tinged with a hint of the complexities that their roles within the court demanded.

His gaze then shifted to his younger brother and sister, and a warmth bloomed within him. "Tommen, Myrcella," he greeted them with a genuine smile that held a touch of camaraderie. Their shared lineage and the bonds that linked them seemed to bridge the gaps between their individual journeys.

As he took his seat within the carriage, the sense of unity and familial connection enveloped him. The enclosed space seemed to magnify their shared history, their shared destiny. In that moment, as the carriage resumed its journey, Prince Joffrey was not just a prince, but a son and a brother, embarking on a path that intertwined their lives within the intricate tapestry of the realm...

.

Or at least... that's what a bystander would see if they looked at the harmonious atmosphere inside the royal carriage.

A bystander wouldn't see that the smiles for what they were, carefully crafted masks meant to hide their true emotions .

And if somebody could hear prince Joffrey's thoughts, there would be no mentions of familial love or anything of the sort.

No , if somebody could indeed hear the prince's thoughts , what they would hear would be...

.

'What a load of bullshit...'

.

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A.N :

"You have more control over the future than you want to admit, because to admit this is to admit that a bad world, a bad future, is just as much your fault as a good one.

A scary thing indeed, but its only scary if you aren't ready for the future, if you haven't put in the work"

-Some badass Grimm hunter