Renly Baratheon stood outside the command tent, gazing at the sky in the direction of King's Landing.
He looked much like Robert in his youth, only slimmer and more refined. He wore a sky-blue coat embroidered with golden stags that gleamed in the sunlight.
Beneath his short black hair was a face bearing the languor and arrogance peculiar to the nobility, without the slightest hint of anxiety over the current situation.
Loras Tyrell stood beside him. The Knight of Flowers wore rose-adorned armor, his long brown hair impeccably groomed. His handsome face could have swept countless noble ladies off their feet. Yet his green eyes were filled with adoration as he looked at Renly before him.
"Renly," Loras said softly, handing him the letter he had just received. "More news from King's Landing."
Renly took the letter, glanced over it, and smiled.
"So that woman Cersei has finally learned to be afraid." He handed the letter back to Loras. "She wants us to march out and fight the Targaryens alongside her."
After reading the letter, Loras frowned. "What do you intend to do?"
Renly did not answer immediately. He turned and surveyed the camp around them. This was the army he had spent a year gathering, fifty thousand men in all, the strongest army in the Seven Kingdoms.
He should have marched north to King's Landing long ago, but Stannis's fleet had remained off Storm's End, preventing him from feeling truly at ease. After all, he had to admit that Stannis knew Storm's End far better than he did.
After pondering for a while, he said to Loras, "Go summon everyone. I think this is something we should discuss together."
Half an hour later, the great tent was packed. The lords of the Stormlands sat on the left, while the