Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire

"Black castle, black dragon." Shireen's voice came from the house, tender and pleasant.

Maester Cressen lowered his head and pounded his calf, slightly relieving the pain of climbing the stairs.

Hearing this, he guessed that Patchface, the jester, had said some tricks to Shireen again. Cressen could not hear any jokes in it, which was a manifestation of dereliction of duty in the eyes of the old maester.

Cressen always hated Patchface for not teaching Stannis humor, even a little.

He pushed open the wooden door and saw Shireen lowering her head to fiddle with her dragon ornaments. Cressen remembered that these were toys made for the princess by the most outstanding craftsmen Stannis had found in the East Continent.

It's a pity. Maester Cressen sighed and walked closer to Shireen, "Princess, what are you mumbling about?"

Shireen turned around with a smile on her face.

The happier the princess's expression, the more painful it was in his heart.

The maester forced a smile to respond to this unbearable enthusiasm.

"I'm preparing evidence for my debate with Patchface," Shireen moved the dragon aside, flipped through a thick book, and pointed to a passage in it. Cressen squinted and barely saw it clearly after getting closer.

It was a record of a dance with blood dragons, "The profligate princes Daemon Targaryen and Aemond Targaryen fought a decisive battle over the God's Eye Lake. Both fell to the bottom of the lake, disappeared without a trace, and died together."

The princess was reading Daemon's history. Cressen frowned slightly. He clearly remembered how some of the predecessors of the Citadel evaluated this prince who was both good and evil.

"It is well known that the Targaryen family is rich in geniuses and lunatics, and Prince Daemon is both." Cressen murmured, not wanting Shireen to read this history.

"Patchface said," Shireen didn't hear the dissatisfaction in Maester Cressen's words, "he saw a black dragon spread its wings on the black castle and spewed flames."

The black death? Cressen thought.

"I said it was the Black Death, but Patchface didn't believe it." Before Shireen finished speaking, Patchface suddenly jumped out from behind the door.

"Black dragon! Black castle! Not the Black Death! It's too big!" Patchface's thick fat seemed to overflow from his face. He jumped up and down, and his tone was exaggerated and high.

"Only the Black Death appeared over Harrenhal. You are wrong. I have read the history books." Shireen seemed to want to reason with Patchface, but everyone knew it was useless.

Patchface covered his ears, "No, no!" He screamed and ran out of the room again.

Cressen suppressed his discomfort. He didn't have time to talk to Shireen about this. He coughed slightly, "Princess, I have something to discuss with you."

Shireen blinked her eyes, put down the thick book in her hand, sat up straight, and looked at the maester with a serious face.

A touch of heartache surged up again, and Cressen suppressed the waves in his heart. He tried his best to keep smiling, lowered his voice, and corrected whether his tone was gentler.

"You say it, Grandpa Cressen." Shireen said, smiling.

Damn, she was even comforting herself. Maester Cressen felt that tears seemed to flow from his eyes.

"Princess. Our King, Stannis Baratheon I, was..." Cressen swallowed his throat, his lips trembling, "captured by Joffrey's rebels."

Shireen's expression stagnated in the same place, and a huge silence enveloped her, accompanied by grief.

Davos consciously stood in the corner of the main hall of Dragonstone Island, and he looked absent-mindedly at the crowned stag banner hanging above the main hall.

The main hall was packed with so many people for the first time. Davos looked around. There were two knights from Florent, the bastard knight from Nightsong, Roland Storm, whom he admired very much, the knight from Velaryon, and the knight from Crab Island.

The cold wind blew over from the sea and poured in from the open vents in the main hall of Dragonstone Castle. A chill enveloped him, as well as all the vassals and knights loyal to Stannis.

Axell Florent's trumpet-like voice echoed in the chattering main hall, "The most urgent task is to return to defend Dragonstone and cut off the connection between the Qingting Island fleet and King's Landing. They have no supply base, and we can easily defeat them."

"The traitor's brother is not worthy of speaking!" There was an immediate rebuttal in the main hall, interrupting Sir Axell Florent's words.

Stannis would definitely not want to see this scene, Davos thought. He trusted Axell himself far more than the Florent family, and had always let him serve as the acting lord of Dragonstone, responsible for the logistics of the entire fleet.

Axell Floren's face flushed immediately. He pounded on the table and shouted angrily, "The Floren family had nearly a thousand infantrymen participating in the Battle of the Blackwater River, and nearly four hundred died there. My brother's surrender does not represent my will!"

The person who was scolded was also a knight whom Stannis trusted very much, Sir Good Morrigan, although he was once Renly Baratheon's Rainbow Guard and wore green clothes.

He did not retreat, but went straight to him, "The lord of the Stormlands cannot accept a traitor, let alone trust a traitor's words."

Axell Floren's tense face turned to Good Morrigan, "I swore allegiance to King Stannis from the beginning, until death. If you insult me ​​in this way, I will use a duel to show my feelings!"

Davos noticed that the knights in the surrounding Stormlands all showed disdainful expressions.

"Renly is our only choice." Imry Florent, who had been sitting aside and almost died on the Wrath, finally spoke, and his more controversial words provoked a greater conflict.

The main hall was once again filled with the noise of arguments, this time much louder than the previous times.

"He has been sent to the ship and headed to the Wall. I am afraid he has sworn to become a member of the Night's Watch. The Night's Watch swears not to have anything to do with the affairs of the kingdom." Davos almost blurted out.

Axell Floren also looked at Imry Floren in surprise, "Nephew, you."

Imry Floren looked at Davos with contempt, "Smugglers are not qualified to speak," he turned his head to look at his uncle, "King Stannis once said that Renly is his heir before he gives birth to his eldest son."

"People who are exiled to the Wall have no right to interfere with the throne," the bastard of Nightsong, Roland Storm said without hesitation, "No matter who he is." The bastard knight added.

Imry seemed to be a little afraid of this bastard of Nightsong, and his words were obviously retreating, "That's true, but things are different now."

"Not at any time." Roland Storm said firmly.

Imry Floren widened his eyes, exhaled slightly, and seemed to be about to back down.

"I don't think so," said Sir Goodmorrigan, who had just interrupted Axell Floren, staring at the bastard, "Your Lord Brian Cullen is King Renly's Rainbow Guard. Will he listen to your bastard brother?"

The argument became louder, and Davos could see that fame, honor, and everyone's obsession were pouring out, colliding and fighting each other in this argument.

Davos took a long breath, stood up, and shouted loudly, "There is another choice!"

Everyone's eyes fell on him, with suspicion, disdain, respect, impatience, all kinds of expressions.

"Renly has put on black clothes, there is no doubt about it, the false king Joffrey has regarded us as mortal enemies, and there is no possibility of forgiveness. There is only one person who has the most legal justice and can gather all the nobles who value honor," Davos was a little nervous, and he looked at everyone.

"The only living blood of King Stannis, Shireen Baratheon!" he shouted loudly.

"A little girl?" Good Morrigan's question was full of disdain.

"The king is made, and the princess is the most legal, there is no doubt about that!" The bastard of Nightsong took a step closer, and Good Morrigan couldn't help but take a step back in fear.

The bastard turned his head and looked at Davos, his eyes full of trust, "King Stannis trusts Ser Davos Seaworth the most, and he personally teaches his thoughts. His views best reflect the will of King Stannis."

Roland Storm took out his long sword, "Long live Queen Shireen Baratheon!"

The knights of Dorne's March and Storm immediately drew their long swords, "Long live Queen Shireen Baratheon!"

Axell Florent hesitated for a moment, then raised his long sword, "Long live Queen Shireen Baratheon!"

The voice surrounded Davos' ears, and nervous emotions surged in his heart, but more of it was joy.

Davos swore that he would make up for the trust King Stannis had broken in him.