That night, Eddard searched carefully in his study within the Tower of the Hand.
Finally, in a corner on the top shelf of the bookcase, he found that book: "The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms."
The book was very thick, and its parchment pages had already turned yellow.
When Eddard flipped to the chapter on the Baratheon family, he found marks previously made by Arryn nearby.
"Baratheon family traits: black hair, blue eyes. Since the War of Conquest, all members of the Baratheon family, regardless of gender, have conformed to these traits."
Eddard continued flipping and found the chapter on the House Lannister, which also bore Arryn's marks.
"House Lannister traits: golden hair, emerald eyes. Marriage record with the Baratheon family: Jeyne Lannister (golden hair) married Robert Baratheon (black hair). Offspring traits: black hair, blue eyes."
Below were several other examples; regardless of gender, as long as people from these two families intermarried, their offspring were inevitably black-haired and blue-eyed.
Then the handwriting broke off there.
But Eddard already understood Jon Arryn's meaning. He felt a chill crawl up his spine to his brain.
Robert and Cersei's three children—Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella—were all golden-haired.
If it were before, he might not have understood what this meant. But after Petyr's reminder, he had guessed the truth.
"No," Eddard murmured to himself, "this is impossible."
But he remembered what Robert had said in the crypts of Winterfell: "Whatever Jon found, I don't know, but he was looking. Now he's dead, and it's so convenient."
That night, Eddard suffered from insomnia.
He stood by the window, looking at the lights of The Red Keep, his heart filled with conflict.
If Jon Arryn's suspicion was true, then Joffrey was not the legitimate heir to the iron throne. The true legitimate heir should be Stannis Baratheon, Robert's second younger brother.
But to accuse a Queen with such a background of adultery, and to say the Prince is an incestuous bastard, required concrete evidence.
And right now, he had nothing but a book in his hand and his own doubts and guesses; it was completely useless.
Furthermore, his sense of chivalry told him that without solid evidence, he could not arbitrarily tarnish a lady's reputation, even if she was a Lannister.
In the following days, Eddard attempted to investigate the truth from other angles. He questioned Grand Maester Pycelle about Jon Arryn's cause of death.
"Heart failure, my lord," Pycelle said with a cough. "Lord Arryn was old and overworked. He collapsed suddenly that day; we did our best, but we couldn't bring him back."
"Was there anything else unusual?"
"Unusual? I don't understand your meaning." Pycelle put on an air of senile confusion.
Eddard stared into the old Maester's eyes. "Did he say anything before he died?"
Pycelle avoided his gaze. "I recall now, Lord Arryn did mutter some nonsense before he died, something about 'the seed' and 'the hair.' But dying men often speak so, my lord."
Eddard knew he wouldn't get anything more out of him. So, he went to find Varys instead.
"Lord Jon was a good man," Varys sighed. "He was loyal to the kingdom. But his investigation touched upon dangerous territory."
Varys looked around, and after ensuring no one else was present, he whispered, "Furthermore, he wrote a letter to Lord Tywin before."
"What did the letter say?"
"I don't know the contents," Varys said. "But I know the letter never reached Lord Tywin's hands. It vanished along the way."
Eddard felt a wave of helplessness. Everyone here was hinting things to him, yet no one was willing to speak plainly; everyone was putting on an act for him.
Over the next few months, Eddard strove to adapt to his duties as the hand of the king.
Every morning, he would punctually attend the Small Council meetings to listen to reports from all sides.
Most of the time, Robert was absent-minded, either yawning or simply absent, leaving all affairs entirely for Eddard to handle.
"You decide, Ned, I trust you," Robert would always say.
During this period, news of the King's Landing tourney spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms.
Knights from all over the kingdom flocked to King's Landing, all hoping to win honor and prize money in this grand event. Before long, all the inns in King's Landing were full, so even more people and families began camping directly outside the city, the air in the camps thick with the smell of sweat and livestock.
While waiting for the tourney, Sansa was extremely excited. Every day she would pull Arya to the camps outside the city to watch the knights training, commenting on every handsome knight.
"Look at that one, that's Ser Loras Tyrell of The Reach, the Knight of Flowers." Sansa pointed at a golden-haired youth riding a white horse, her eyes full of admiration. "He's only fifteen, yet he's already a famous knight in the Seven Kingdoms."
Arya curled her lip. "He looks more like a girl than you do."
"Arya, how can you say that?" Sansa said angrily. "He is the golden rose of Highgarden, a true knight. And he's a favorite to win the championship."
In fact, Loras's appearance did cause quite a stir among the noble ladies.
His handsome face, elegant manners, and superb horsemanship left all the ladies who saw him enamored. Adding to that, he had no betrothed yet, so every time he rode by, he would receive many tokens thrown by ladies.
However, the only person besides his squires allowed into his tent was a man—Renly Baratheon.
The Lord of Storms End and the kingdom's Master of Laws had been captivated by Loras at first sight and visited him every day. And after their time together, Loras had also grown fond of this handsome Baratheon lord.
But for now, the most important person in Sansa's heart was still Emperor Joffrey; after all, she wanted to be Queen.
She would often search for his figure at the banquets in King's Landing, her heart racing at even an accidental glance from him.
At one banquet where Cersei did not attend, Joffrey took the initiative to talk to her, asking about the scenery of the North.
"The North is very cold, and the scenery is quite desolate, Your Highness," Sansa replied nervously. "But House Stark's Winterfell is beautiful, especially the Godswood."
Joffrey smiled. "The Godswood? That sounds very interesting. Perhaps one day I shall visit."
This sentence kept Sansa happy for several days. She wrote to her mother, describing the conversation in detail and expressing her affection for the Prince, hoping her mother would propose the match for her.
Arya was dismissive of this; she was more interested in the tourney itself.
Since coming to King's Landing, she would often slip out of The Red Keep and blend into the commoner areas, watching street performers or sailors fighting at the docks. Sometimes, she would even enter the secret passages of The Red Keep while chasing stray cats.
Once, she secretly ran to the place where the guards lived, asking them to teach her how to use a sword.
"My lady, this is not appropriate. A noble lady should learn embroidery, not how to wield knives and spears."
"But I just want to learn," Arya insisted.
This put the guards in a difficult position.
Ultimately, it was Jon who came to their rescue. He began teaching Arya some basic techniques in private.
"Don't let Father know," Jon reminded her.
"He won't care," Arya said. "Father is so busy with his duties as Hand all day that he has no time to mind us."
This was true. Eddard was indeed swamped. Besides daily political affairs and preparing for the tourney, he also had to secretly investigate Jon Arryn's cause of death.
He even secretly sent people to monitor Cersei and Jaime, hoping to get evidence of their incest. Unfortunately, The Red Keep was heavily guarded and almost entirely staffed by Lannister people; especially near the Queen's chambers, his men couldn't get close at all.
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