Dragonstone.
The crushing defeat hung over the council chamber like an unprecedented storm, leaving everyone struggling to breathe beneath its weight.
Davos, Alester Florent, and the others all stared at Stannis, who sat silently at the head of the table, gloomy and dispirited.
Meanwhile, Melisandre, seated along the other side of the long table, still wore the same calm expression.
It was as though even a disastrous defeat like the Battle of the Blackwater could not shake her composure.
A week earlier, while Galon was still sailing toward Pyke upon the sea, the battle for King's Landing had already erupted in full.
Stannis had led more than twenty thousand soldiers from Dragonstone and the Stormlands in an assault upon the poorly defended capital.
At first, the trick devised by the Imp had destroyed Stannis's fleet with wildfire.
Yet despite that, Stannis still led a great number of knights into King's Landing itself.
But just as he believed victory was within his grasp, disaster struck.
Tywin Lannister's army, together with the great southern host led by Garlan Tyrell, suddenly emerged from the Kingswood.
Most critically, when Stannis's bannermen from the Stormlands saw Garlan fighting upon the battlefield while clad in Renly's armor, many believed Renly himself had returned from the dead.
One after another, they turned cloak.
In the blink of an eye, Stannis's army collapsed in total defeat.
In the end, he managed to flee back to Dragonstone with barely two thousand soldiers aboard a handful of warships.
Now, his position was even worse than before he had raised his banners.
If nothing changed, Stannis could already be considered completely stripped of any chance to claim the Iron Throne.
On this point, the gathered knights and bannermen within Dragonstone's council chamber had already reached silent agreement.
Stannis's Hand of the King, Alester, exchanged glances with his brother Axell.
In the end, it was Alester who broke the oppressive silence first.
"Your Grace."
He called softly to Stannis.
Once Stannis's gaze settled upon him, he continued.
"The Battle of the Blackwater is over. It is time we consider what we should do next."
Stannis looked weary and hollow. The defeat upon the Blackwater had nearly crushed him entirely.
At this moment, he had no patience for the uncle of his queen.
"What brilliant suggestion do you have?"
Alester had long prepared his answer.
"Your Grace, I believe we should send envoys to negotiate with the Lannisters."
"Negotiate? And what terms would you propose?"
Stannis's cold eyes fixed upon his Hand. Yet in truth, he already knew what Alester intended to say.
Sure enough, Alester replied, "I suggest we attempt a peace agreement with the Lannisters."
"In exchange for relinquishing your claim to the throne, Your Grace would retain the titles of Lord Paramount of the Stormlands and Lord of Dragonstone."
His words instantly stirred the council chamber.
Even Axell looked stunned.
"Lord Alester, are you suggesting His Grace bend the knee to Joffrey? Do not forget that His Grace is the rightful heir to the Iron Throne!"
Alester turned toward Davos, displeasure clear upon his face.
"Of course I know that. But do we still have any chance of victory?
It would be better to retreat temporarily and wait for the situation to change further before acting again.
Do not forget—there is still another king in the Riverlands."
His words sparked renewed discussion among the gathered lords, and even Stannis's face showed a trace of hesitation.
But at that moment, Melisandre suddenly spoke with a soft smile.
"Your Grace, as the prince promised in prophecy, how could you possibly surrender? Besides... we still have a chance to win."
The moment those words were spoken, Stannis seemed to seize upon them like a drowning man grasping driftwood.
"What chance?!"
Melisandre rose slowly, sweeping her gaze across the room before finally meeting Stannis's hopeful eyes with a faint smile.
"Just as Lord Alester said, there is still another king in the Riverlands.
If that king and his armies were to swear fealty to Your Grace, then would you not possess the strength to wage war again?"
"The North?" Stannis froze. "Why would the Starks ever bend the knee to me?"
Melisandre explained calmly, "Your Grace, do not forget—we still possess a Stark."
Hearing this, Davos immediately understood. He realized Melisandre intended to repeat her old methods once again and kill Robb Stark.
A trace of pity flashed through his eyes, and he nearly spoke out.
But in the end, he remained silent.
At the same time, understanding dawned upon Stannis as well. "You mean to kill Robb and then use Rickon to control the northern alliance?"
His expression gradually brightened as he muttered to himself.
"Yes. Robb declared himself king. It is treason. Replacing him with Rickon would be entirely appropriate."
But at that moment, Alester poured cold water upon the idea.
"Your Grace, how exactly do you intend to kill Robb Stark while he is surrounded by heavy guard?
Do you truly believe the remnants of our army can defeat the Young Wolf, whose victories are known throughout the realm?"
Alester still knew nothing of how Renly had truly died. He had always dismissed the rumors blaming Stannis for it with contempt.
Now he openly challenged the idea.
"Even if by trickery or some other means we kill Robb, Rickon Stark is not his heir.
Rickon has an older brother... Bran, I believe. Yes, Bran Stark. He is Robb's true heir, and he still resides in Winterfell.
What then? Shall we march north and kill Bran Stark as well?"
Stannis glanced coldly at his Hand and explained, "Alester, there are things you do not understand."
"Bran Stark became crippled after falling from a tower. He has no right to inherit Winterfell.
The Rickon Stark in our custody is Robb's rightful heir."
Alester still looked ready to argue further, but Stannis—already immersed in fantasies of controlling the northern host—cut him off harshly.
"Enough. The matter is decided.
As for how Robb Stark will die, I already know what must be done.
Ser Davos, prepare the fleet immediately. We sail for Saltpans as soon as possible and will take control of the northern alliance."
Davos felt helpless, yet he could not oppose Stannis's orders. He could only bow and accept.
Within his heart, however, his resentment toward Melisandre grew stronger than ever.
Meanwhile, as Stannis organized his fleet to sail around Crackclaw Point toward Saltpans, news of the Blackwater's outcome spread rapidly across the realm.
...
"Cough... cough..."
At Riverrun, Robb Stark—who had been forced to withdraw there after being wounded by an arrow at the Crag—turned pale upon hearing that Stannis had been defeated and that the Lannisters and Tyrells had forged an alliance.
His body had not yet fully recovered, and the shocking news triggered another violent fit of coughing.
"How could this happen... Stannis actually lost..."
"The Lannisters actually..."
Unable to catch his breath, he doubled over coughing once more.
Inside Riverrun's council chamber, Catelyn looked at her son with worry and quickly tried to comfort him.
"Robb, calm yourself. Even if the Lannisters won, it must have been a costly victory."
But Edmure Tully shook his head bitterly, rejecting his sister's words.
"Tywin now commands over thirty thousand men when combined with the Reach armies.
The only reason they remain in King's Landing now is because they intend to finish Stannis completely.
The moment Dragonstone falls... we will be next."
Edmure's words only deepened Robb's worries. Turning toward his uncle, Robb spoke urgently.
"Uncle Edmure, gather the Riverlands bannermen immediately. Prepare for war."
"Harrenhal... we must secure Harrenhal..."
Robb paused to catch his breath before continuing anxiously.
"Send word to Lord Bolton at once. Have him lead the northern army and the forces from Raventree to occupy Harrenhal..."
"The Freys will not send troops."
Hearing Robb's arrangements, Edmure spoke with clear dissatisfaction.
"You brought that girl from the Crag back with you. Why would House Frey still support us now?"
Robb's pale face showed embarrassment.
Ever since he decided to bring Jeyne Westerling back to Riverrun and promise to marry her, the Freys accompanying his campaign had flown into a rage.
In fury, Walder Frey withdrew all forces belonging to House Frey and declared that Robb would pay dearly for the insult.
Now the consequences had finally arrived.
"Jeyne..."
Bitterness welled up inside Robb as he began learning the cost of impulsive decisions.
Catelyn's eyes also filled with worry. She knew her father's bannermen all too well.
If the Freys refused to fight, many others would inevitably harbor the same thoughts.
And once King's Landing gained the upper hand, more lords would soon defect simply to protect themselves.
Yet seeing her son's weakened state, Catelyn could not bear to press him further.
Instead, she gently comforted him again.
"Robb, you must focus on recovering your strength. As long as you remain healthy, the northern and Riverlands lords will remain reassured."
She paused briefly, as though reaching some difficult decision.
"I will go to the Vale again... I will convince Lysa to send her armies."
The moment those words were spoken, Robb's eyes lit up.
"With the knights of the Vale, our chances improve greatly.
And we still hold Jaime captive. Tywin will not dare launch a full assault while fearing for his son.
If we can hold on until Galon arrives with the Iron Islanders, then we can still win!"
But regarding the reports sent from Winterfell, Catelyn remained deeply pessimistic.
In fact, her dislike for Galon's reckless decisions only grew stronger.
"Glover is far too arrogant!
Does he truly believe that defeating raiding Ironborn means he can sail across the sea and wage war against the Iron Islands themselves?
He is a northern lord who has never fought a naval battle in his life. How does he expect to fight the Ironborn?"
Edmure scoffed even more openly.
"If Glover were truly as formidable as you claim, then he should march south immediately to help stabilize the war... Not recklessly sail off on his own."
After speaking, Edmure suddenly entertained a wild thought.
"If he really defeats the Iron Islands... do you think he might take that dragon-binding magic and try to control dragons himself?"
The moment those words fell, both Robb and Catelyn's expressions changed dramatically.
The same worry surfaced simultaneously in both their hearts.
Fortunately, Robb still maintained his reason.
Suppressing the unease within himself, he said firmly, "No... he would not. Galon is loyal. He would never do such a thing."
Then he turned toward Edmure and warned him. "Do not spread word of the dragons. Only we are to know of it."
"And Mother, please depart for the Vale as soon as possible. You must convince Aunt Lysa to join us.
Uncle Edmure, I must ask something difficult of you... Please write to the Freys.
Tell Lord Frey that you are willing to marry one of his daughters..."
While Robb desperately struggled to gather allies for the wars to come, Galon had already finished settling matters within the Iron Islands and was preparing to march south into the conflict.
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