Dragonstone.
Even the cold sea wind seemed to carry the sting of defeat as it lashed Stannis Baratheon's face.
He stood at the prow of the Fury.
His black armor was covered in dust and dried blood, leaving him looking utterly bedraggled.
He did not look at the dispirited remnants of his army behind him.
His gaze remained fixed on the east.
Toward King's Landing.
But he could see nothing, only a gray expanse of sea and sky.
The city he had dreamed of, the Iron Throne that symbolized dominion over the Seven Kingdoms-both had already been within his grasp.
Now, however, they had fallen into the hands of that boy from the North.
His elite Holy Fire Knight Order had been burned to nothing by a single breath of dragonfire from that three-headed monster. Not even ash remained.
The Reach had betrayed him.
Davos, once his most trusted Hand of the King, had sided with the enemy too.
Stannis's fingers dug into the ship's railing.
He refused to accept it.
Why?
He was the rightful heir to House Baratheon.
After Robert's death, he had the strongest claim to the Iron Throne.
Yet now Lynn was competing with him for it, and he had proved so useless that he simply could not win.
"Your Grace."
A voice sounded behind him.
It was the newly appointed Red Priestess.
She approached Stannis.
"The Lord of Light has not abandoned us."
Stannis did not turn. His voice came through clenched teeth.
"My army is gone, and The Reach has betrayed me. Is this what you call not abandoning us?"
"This is merely a trial." The Red Priestess did not give up.
"R'hllor is testing your resolve, Your Grace."
"A true king will not be brought down by a minor setback."
"He will be