Renly gazed at the distant sea, where Stannis's fleet had once been stationed. Now there was nothing but water. He had forgotten whether he had felt joy or sorrow when he first learned of Stannis's death. At least now, he felt some regret.
He had even begun to miss Cersei's cutting remarks. Back then, at least, he could still amuse himself in the Red Keep in King's Landing, discussing poetry and romance. His hand unconsciously tightened around the sword hilt at his waist, and its cold touch calmed him a little.
"Loras, relay my orders," he said hoarsely. "Strengthen the defenses of Storm's End and send out more scouts. Keep a close watch on the movements of the Dornish army."
He paused, then continued, "Also, send an elite force across the Narrow Sea. They must find some way to secure the aid of the Free Cities. Make sure they understand that this is our last chance to stand against Viserys."
Even Renly felt that his orders were feeble, but he knew he had to do something now, if only for that faintest chance of a turnaround that might never come.
Just then, the sky suddenly darkened. Storm's End fell beneath the shadow of a storm that had appeared without warning, as though heralding the approaching twilight of House Baratheon.
Soon, fierce winds drove fat raindrops hard against the tower's stone walls. Their rattling patter seemed to provide an accompaniment to the somber mood.
Renly's face looked even paler beneath the gloomy sky. As he gazed at the sea being swallowed by the storm, the fear he had barely managed to suppress began quietly spreading through him again.
That was the sort of indecisive man he was: nothing but "bright copper," pleasing only to the eye.
The Rainbow Guard could also