The cabin of Royal Fleet flagship Fury was filled with a lingering smell of stuffy heat and damp wood.
Stannis. Baratheon is sitting at the head seat of the long table, cutting a piece of hard bread with an ordinary table knife.
Lunch was so simple that it was almost harsh, just bread, a piece of salted fish and a glass of cold water.
The two attendants stood by the wall with their hands down, like two statues. They even breathed deliberately softly, for fear of disturbing the solid air.
The hatch was gently pushed open, and Davos. Seaworth walked in. The air he brought in dissipated some of the stuffy heat.
Davos. Seaworth's voice was as steady as ever. "Sir."
"Your Majesty has replied."
Stannis. Baratheon didn't raise his head, just fiddled with the fish bones on the plate with the tip of his knife.
"He said that when Harrenhal's Tourney is over, he will personally board Pyke and crush Balon. Greyjoy's head with his own hands."
Stannis. Baratheon The knife in his hand stopped. He slowly put down the bread and raised his head. There was no emotion in his dark blue eyes, like two pieces of ice.
His voice did not rise and fall, as if he was stating an established fact. "Write again to urge me."
Davos. Seaworth frowned slightly. He took a step forward and lowered his voice. "Sir, if we do this, His Majesty will be angered."
"Send a letter."
Stannis. Baratheon repeated it again, looking past Davos. Seaworth and towards the narrow porthole window of the cabin, outside which was the gloomy sky.
He paused for a moment, the muscles of his jaw tightened, making a slight friction sound, "Then write a letter to Hand of the King and let him know about my brother's misdeeds in Harrenhal."
Davos. Seaworth felt a shiver in his heart. Writing a letter to the king is a reminder, but writing a letter to Hand of the King is a complaint.
He glanced calmly at the two attendants in the corner.
The two people understood immediately, bowed and bowed, quietly exited the cabin, and closed the heavy wooden door.
The sound of the door bolt falling was particularly clear in the silence, and there were only two people left in the cabin.
Stannis. Baratheon finally spoke, with a scorching heat covered in ice. "I thought that at least he was not misled by wine and sex."
"I thought he would at least still fight."
His fingers tapped on the rough wooden table, once and again, as if he was calculating something.
"Does he know how much Gold Dragon the kingdom loses every day he wastes his time?"
Stannis. Baratheon stood up and walked around in the narrow cabin. This ship was not very spacious for a fleet commander.
He sneered, and there was no joy in the laughter. "Harrenhal's Tourney!"
"Nobles clashing with each other with wooden lances! Ladies waving handkerchiefs! A game!"
"And my soldiers bleed at sea!!"
He stopped in front of the porthole and looked at his fleet.
Those warships that survived the last raid were moored quietly in the harbor. Some of the ships still had holes in their sails, and traces of repairs were clearly visible on the decks.
Stannis. Baratheon's voice became deeper, as if talking to himself. "It's the same as that time again."
"I starved at sea and my soldiers bled and died."
... We eat rats and the leather from the soles of our shoes, while Mace Tyrell. Tyrell's army holds a banquet outside the city."
"That's great! Now it's just him giving a big banquet."
Stannis. Baratheon's mouth curved into a stiff, non-smiling arc.
"Robert Even if you pee in a cup and let people drink it, many people will willingly say it is fine wine."
"I give them pure cold water, but they squint their eyes and become suspicious. After drinking, they will whisper that the water tastes wrong!"
He turned around and looked directly at Davos Seaworth.
"Why is it always like this, Sir Davos."
Davos. Seaworth used careful words, trying to find a reasonable explanation for the king's behavior. "Your Majesty may believe that a grand joust can demonstrate the majesty of the royal family and deter those nobles who have evil intentions because of this rebellion."
Stannis. Baratheon ground his teeth. "Dignity?"
"Majesty is forged with the sword and the law, Sir Davos, not with wine and roast pig."
"Ironborn will not lay down their arms because of a Tourney, they will only laugh at a king who is busy having fun during the war."
He walked to the map and pressed his finger heavily on the position Storm's End.
"How much I have paid for him, but what about his return?"
"A storm-raging volcanic rock, and he gave Renly what should have been mine, Storm's End, as if it was a humiliation."
He paused, seeming to be suppressing deeper emotions.
"Because Renly can laugh, flatter, and make him happy.
"And I will only tell him the truth. The king does not need the truth, Sir Davos. What the king needs is a hymn."
There was no boasting in his voice, only a cold statement.
"I held back the entire the Reach army for him in Storm's End, but what he was grateful for was Eddard Stark who came to the rescue."
"I built a fleet for him and captured Dragonstone. He blamed me for letting the remnants of Targaryen escape, as if I personally sent those two children on board."
"People will always only remember that he wielded his war hammer and defeated Targaryen's army.
"He won all the glory, and people praised his bravery, but I had nothing."
Davos. Seaworth was silent for a while. "People remember your achievements, Stormlands people are talking about it, sir."
Stannis. Baratheon A complex emotion flashed in his eyes, but was quickly covered by solid ice.
He sat back at the table, picked up the glass of cold water and drank it in one gulp. "Go write a letter, Sir Davos."
"Tell Robert, tell him that every day he stays in Harrenhal, Gold Dragon will pass like water."
"Tell him that my fleet needs supplies, my soldiers need food, and I need new ships to make up for the battle losses."
"These all require Gold Dragon, and his Tourney is burning boxes of Gold Dragon to ashes."
Davos. Seaworth looked at him silently. He knew that every word Mr. Stannis said was right.
But he also knew that such a letter would only make Robert. Baratheon furious. He would regard it as a younger brother's accusation against his elder brother, rather than a minister's advice to the king.
But Davos. Seaworth still obeyed the orders.
He couldn't change the king's mind, nor could he change Stannis. Baratheon's decision, it had always been that way.
"There is one more thing to write down."
The voice of Stannis. Baratheon sounded again.
"Suleiman executed those Iron Islands noble prisoners. He has no such right."
"I demand that he be punished."
Davos. Seaworth's eyes widened slightly and he reminded, "Sir, Suleiman has won the victory for the kingdom."
Stannis. Baratheon raised his eyes and looked at him. "Law, Sir Davos, this is the only criterion to maintain Seven Kingdoms.
"Credits cannot offset faults, and faults cannot cover up merits."
"What he did was like using Wildfire to heat the house. You get the warmth but also burn down the house."
"He doesn't understand order, he doesn't understand law, he only understands violence."
"And my brother, as the owner of the house, actually appreciates this kind of violence."