Bitterbridge, Renly's camp, late at night.
House Merryweather's lavish tent shut out the clamor around the endless campfires outside.
More than a dozen nobles and knights from the Stormlands and the Reach sat around a long table.
Their faces flickered between light and shadow beneath the swaying lamplight, and the glances they exchanged were full of unspoken understanding.
At the head sat their host, Orton Merryweather, Earl of Longtable.
His well-kept face wore a somewhat affected smile, but there was no trace of amusement in his shrewd eyes.
His wife, the alluring Lady Tanya Merryweather, reclined on a couch beside her husband, her fingertips absently circling the slender stem of her wineglass as her gaze swept over every face present with interest.
Earl Orton cleared his throat, breaking the somewhat stagnant atmosphere. "My lords, I imagine you all know why I invited you here so late. Our great army now has its sights set on King's Landing, and this is His Grace's moment to achieve greatness. However-"
His tone shifted, and the smile faded from his face. "These past few days, rumors have been spreading throughout the army, and those rumors-are aimed directly at His Grace!"
Seated to his left, Parmen Crane, the Ser of Red Lake, spoke quietly. "The rumors say His Grace may have some problems in that regard. He and Queen Margaery have been married for two months, yet there is no sign of a child. There are also rumors that His Grace only likes pretty boys and has no interest in women."
He had barely finished when a young knight seated in a corner, a member of a minor Stormlands noble family, could not help muttering, "But-but there really is no sign of anything-and the Queen is so beautiful-"
Though his voice was low, it carried