Fishing Net

Count Davos's eyes were full of gratification. His broad, thick hand patted his second son heavily on the shoulder as he said earnestly, "Allard, Ser Pell is a knight worthy of respect. You must work diligently under his command."

Ser Allard stood tall and slowly nodded. "I understand. I will remember your teachings, Father."

After giving him another light pat, Davos hung up his cloak before walking to the side and slowly sitting down in a folding chair.

The coals in the brazier crackled, casting light over his somewhat weary face.

Seeing this, Ser Allard cleverly poured him a cup of wine and grinned. "I must thank you, Father. Lord Pell thinks highly of your recommendation. Without you, it would have been difficult for me to receive such a good opportunity."

Reaching out to take the cup, Count Davos drank a mouthful of Crackclaw Point's local sour wine. Its tart, astringent flavor spread through his mouth at once, and he could not help frowning.

He let out a breath unconsciously before speaking. "Sit, my son. Let us talk."

Once Allard had sat down, Count Davos's expression turned serious. "Remember this: the respect others show your father all comes from prince Gryn's favor. The same is true of House Seaworth. You must never forget that."

After pouring himself a cup as well, Ser Allard sat nearby. His gaze inadvertently passed over the thinning hair atop his father's head. Since King Stannis had driven him away, the white hairs there had only grown more numerous.

A trace of doubt rose in his heart. Did Father regret secretly releasing Edric Storm, Robert's noble bastard?

No matter what, judging solely by the outcome... House Seaworth had benefited from it, for they were now vassals of the Lord Regent of the Seven Kingdoms.

Yet recently,