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There
was
only
one
way
Tommen
would
become
king
.
No
,
he
could
not
even
think
it
.
Joffrey
was
his
own
blood
,
and
Jaime
’
s
son
as
much
as
Cersei
’
s
.
"
I
could
have
your
head
off
for
saying
that
,
"
he
told
Bronn
,
but
the
sellsword
only
laughed
.
"
Friends
,
"
said
Varys
,
"
quarreling
will
not
serve
us
.
I
beg
you
both
,
take
heart
.
"
"
Whose
?
"
asked
Tyrion
sourly
.
He
could
think
of
several
tempting
choices
.
Ser
Cortnay
Penrose
wore
no
armor
.
He
sat
a
sorrel
stallion
,
his
standard
-
bearer
a
dapple
grey
.
Above
them
flapped
Baratheon
’
s
crowned
stag
and
the
crossed
quills
of
Penrose
,
white
on
a
russet
field
.
Ser
Cortnay
’
s
spade
-
shaped
beard
was
russet
as
well
,
though
he
’
d
gone
wholly
bald
on
top
.
If
the
size
and
splendor
of
the
king
’
s
party
impressed
him
,
it
did
not
show
on
that
weathered
face
.
They
trotted
up
with
much
clinking
of
chain
and
rattle
of
plate
.
Even
Davos
wore
mail
,
though
he
could
not
have
said
why
;
his
shoulders
and
lower
back
ached
from
the
unaccustomed
weight
.
It
made
him
feel
cumbered
and
foolish
,
and
he
wondered
once
more
why
he
was
here
.
It
is
not
for
me
to
question
the
king
’
s
commands
,
and
yet
.
.
.
Every
man
of
the
party
was
of
better
birth
and
higher
station
than
Davos
Seaworth
,
and
the
great
lords
glittered
in
the
morning
sun
.
Silvered
steel
and
gold
inlay
brightened
their
armor
,
and
their
warhelms
were
crested
in
a
riot
of
silken
plumes
,
feathers
,
and
cunningly
wrought
heraldic
beasts
with
gemstone
eyes
.
Stannis
himself
looked
out
of
place
in
this
rich
and
royal
company
.
Like
Davos
,
the
king
was
plainly
garbed
in
wool
and
boiled
leather
,
though
the
circlet
of
red
gold
about
his
temples
lent
him
a
certain
grandeur
.
Sunlight
flashed
off
its
flame
-
shaped
points
whenever
he
moved
his
head
.
This
was
the
closest
Davos
had
come
to
His
Grace
in
the
eight
days
since
Black
Betha
had
joined
the
rest
of
the
fleet
off
Storm
’
s
End
.
He
’
d
sought
an
audience
within
an
hour
of
his
arrival
,
only
to
be
told
that
the
king
was
occupied
.
The
king
was
often
occupied
,
Davos
learned
from
his
son
Devan
,
one
of
the
royal
squires
.
Now
that
Stannis
Baratheon
had
come
into
his
power
,
the
lordlings
buzzed
around
him
like
flies
round
a
corpse
.
He
looks
half
a
corpse
too
,
years
older
than
when
I
left
Dragonstone
.
Devan
said
the
king
scarcely
slept
of
late
.
"
Since
Lord
Renly
died
,
he
has
been
troubled
by
terrible
nightmares
,
"
the
boy
had
confided
to
his
father
.
"
Maester
’
s
potions
do
not
touch
them
.
Only
the
Lady
Melisandre
can
soothe
him
to
sleep
.
"
Is
that
why
she
shares
his
pavilion
now
?
Davos
wondered
.
To
pray
with
him
?
Or
does
she
have
another
way
to
soothe
him
to
sleep
?
It
was
an
unworthy
question
,
and
one
he
dared
not
ask
,
even
of
his
own
son
.
Devan
was
a
good
boy
,
but
he
wore
the
flaming
heart
proudly
on
his
doublet
,
and
his
father
had
seen
him
at
the
nightfires
as
dusk
fell
,
beseeching
the
Lord
of
Light
to
bring
the
dawn
.
He
is
the
king
’
s
squire
,
he
told
himself
,
it
is
only
to
be
expected
that
he
would
take
the
king
’
s
god
.
Davos
had
almost
forgotten
how
high
and
thick
the
walls
of
Storm
’
s
End
loomed
up
close
.
King
Stannis
halted
beneath
them
,
a
few
feet
from
Ser
Cortnay
and
his
standard
-
bearer
.
"
Ser
,
"
he
said
with
stiff
courtesy
.
He
made
no
move
to
dismount
.
