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He wore a gray woolen coat, a flaming red gold crown upon his head, a sword with a ruby hilt at his waist, and a dagger.
Next to him stood a man in a dark brown coat. His dark green cloak fluttered slightly in the sea breeze, and a thick beard covered his face.
On the other side was a beautiful woman in a red robe.
There had been frequent storms recently, and the sea was freezing cold at this time of year. Waves rushed up against the shore, occasionally bringing pieces of cloth, wooden boards, or dead fish and shrimp with them.
Standing on the pier, one could see the steep cliffs not far away. Most of the rocks there were black, like storm clouds gathering on the horizon.
White specks dotted the rock wall—seabirds flying around their nests.
This place remained untouched, a paradise for seabirds and snakes.
The rocky coastline extended from there. Besides sand, many rocks were scattered along the shore, along with various shells.
The coast curved in an arc shape all the way to where they stood. Waves mostly crashed against the rock walls and beaches, growing calmer as they reached the pier. A small village lay just beyond.
Low houses were packed tightly together, with mercenaries, merchants, and slaves all moving along the roads. Several trading ships were docked at the pier.
"A ship is coming," someone said. A shadow appeared in the distance along the coast.
Stannis, Davos, and Melisandre—all the important officials from Dragonstone had gathered here. The castle guards dispersed the people around them, forming a circle dozens strong.
As the black shadow grew larger, they could clearly see a flag with a lace pattern on the ship, and above it, a flaming white bird banner.
Curious villagers stood around, wondering who could command such an impressive welcoming party from the castle.
When the ship docked, they finally saw a silver-haired noble young man wearing a simple dark woolen coat step off the vessel. He looked around before approaching slowly.
"Your Grace," he said, dropping to one knee.
"Rise, ser."
Cole stood and looked at the people before him. They had not seen each other for only a short time, yet they had changed tremendously.
Stannis had grown so thin he seemed covered by only a layer of skin, with gray-white hair and sunken eyes. His clothes hung loosely on his frame, as if he had aged ten years.
The Onion Knight Davos was not in much better condition. He too had grown thin, though he had always been lean. He had lost four sons in the Battle of Blackwater Bay and had been imprisoned in a dungeon upon returning to Dragonstone.
"I have read your letter, and I am pleased that you have not betrayed me," Stannis said.
"Your Grace, I swore an oath to you on Dragonstone," Cole replied, glancing at the dragon-shaped castle built upon the hill.
Were there not many who had sworn oaths to him? At one time, many had knelt and declared Stannis their king, but when war truly came, they surrendered to Tywin one by one.
Back in the Chamber of the Painted Table on Dragonstone, Stannis left them alone. They sat by the fire before a wooden table that bore the map of Westeros as it had been when Aegon the Conqueror had claimed it. Wind whistled outside the window as flames in the hearth cast flickering light.
The king stared into the flames. "For a long time after I returned, I dared not look into the fire. I was ashamed of my cowardice."
"Your Grace, do you still blame yourself? War always brings victory or defeat. Dwelling on failure will not bring us victory. Twenty years ago, you faced a far worse situation at Storm's End, yet you did not lose heart."
The king looked at him and said, "The Onion Knight always advises me bluntly, but you put it more politely. He should learn from you. Do you know what my men said when I showed them your letter?"
Stannis's voice lowered. "They all agreed you would betray me and defect to King's Landing. I have faced so many betrayals that I've grown accustomed to it. I find I do not have the gift of inspiring loyalty. At least compared to Robert and Renly, I fall short. Robert could make his enemies loyal to him, and even Renly had people like Loras Tyrell who refused to betray him."
"You have Ser Davos with you, and Ser Axell Florent. They have both sworn oaths to you, Your Grace."
A hint of mockery crossed Stannis's face. "They should really hear this. I know what Axell wants. He wishes to replace his brother Alester Florent as my Hand."
"They suggested I send troops to Claw Isle to let the Seven Kingdoms know the consequences of betraying me, while boosting our morale with victory. What do you think, ser?" the king asked.
"Beyond plundering some supplies, it would have little effect. Capturing Claw Isle will not increase our soldiers or ships—it will only make us more enemies," Cole replied.
Stannis nodded. "Do you have any better ideas?"
Cole thought for a moment. "Your Grace, you could strip Lord Ardrian Celtigar of his title by royal decree, then appoint a new Lord of Claw Isle and summon him to Dragonstone to swear fealty."
"The Onion Knight praised your wisdom. He too advised against this suggestion born of pure revenge and anger. A king should protect every inch of Westeros and every innocent person. The guilty one is Ardrian Celtigar, not the innocent people of Claw Isle.
"I asked Davos to kneel, then drew Lightbringer and placed it upon his shoulders. I made him a lord and asked him to serve as my Hand. He refused—quite decisively. He told me: 'You have someone more suitable.'"
Cole was stunned.
"Everyone was certain of your betrayal, but Davos told me you had sent the letter to Dragonstone and also sent Mace Tyrell here. He believed you had not betrayed me and asked me to write to you."
The king stood. "Sometimes I feel I am not as wise as a smuggler. Would you be willing to serve as my Hand of the King, ser?"
He stretched out his hand. "Don't rush to refuse. I know Tywin wants to make you Lord of Storm's End."
The king walked to the map. "Storm's End is my family's fortress. During Aegon's Conquest, he gave this castle and the Stormlands to my ancestors. I should not give it to others." He pointed to the Stormlands on the map. "This was once a kingdom, yet we call them the Seven Kingdoms. Ridiculous."
"My former Hand wrote to King's Landing. For his own benefit, he proposed to marry my Shireen to Cersei's incestuous bastard. This is simply an insult to me."
Stannis looked at Cole with a complicated expression. "I will choose an honorable husband for her. Cole, would you be willing to marry Shireen?"
Cole sat motionless.
"But you must wait until she comes of age before you can wed."