Renly looked at the distant sea, where Stannis's fleet had once been stationed; now, there was nothing but seawater. He had already forgotten whether he had been happy or sad when he first learned of Stannis's death; at the very least, he felt some regret now.
He even began to miss Cersei's biting sarcasm; at least back then, he could still frolic in Red Keep of Kings Landing, discussing poetry and romance. He subconsciously tightened his grip on the hilt at his waist, the cold sensation helping him calm down slightly.
"Loras, pass on my orders," he said in a raspy voice. "Strengthen the defenses of Storms End, and at the same time, send out more scouts to closely monitor the movements of the Dornish army."
He paused and continued, "In addition, send an elite team across the Narrow Sea. They must find a way to secure the help of those Free Cities; make sure they know that this is our last chance to deal with Viserys."
Even though Renly himself felt his orders were somewhat hollow and weak, he knew he had to do something now, even if it was only for that minuscule turning point that might never come.
Just then, the sky suddenly darkened, and Storms End was shrouded in the shadow of a sudden storm, as if foretelling the approaching twilight of House Baratheon.
Soon, the gale whipped pea-sized raindrops against the stone walls of the tower, making a pitter-patter sound that seemed like an accompaniment to the somber atmosphere.
Renly's face appeared even paler under the gloomy weather. He gazed at the sea ahead, swallowed by the storm, and the panic he had just barely managed to suppress began to creep back in.
He was such an indecisive man, a 'shiny copper' that only looked good on the outside.
The Rainbow Guard also felt the heavy aura emanating from their king, and each held their breath, not daring to make a sound.
Only Loras, the handsome youth known as the "Knight of Flowers," though his face had also lost its usual ease, stepped forward and responded in a low voice, "As you command, Your Majesty. I will see to it that they complete your task."
There was a hint of imperceptible worry in his voice, but it was mostly filled with loyalty to Renly. He knew that any extra words were useless now; only by diligently executing the orders could he provide the best support to Renly.
Renly nodded slightly upon hearing Loras's words, but his gaze did not leave the sea swallowed by darkness and giant waves, as if he were trying to find a glimmer of hope within it, even if it were merely an illusion.
However, there was nothing on the sea except rolling dark clouds and roaring waves. The rain grew more intense, and cold water seeped through the cracks in the tower, wetting his hair and shoulders. Renly remained oblivious, staring fixedly at the roaring sea.
"Your Majesty, the rain is too heavy. You should return to the castle to rest," Loras's voice rang out again, carrying a hint of entreaty.
Renly slowly turned around and looked at Loras, the love of his life, a flash of complex emotion in his eyes. There was gratitude, guilt, and an indescribable sorrow.
"Loras," he said in a low voice, with an unprecedented solemnity, "if all of this were to end now, what would you do?"
Loras was startled, then said with firm eyes, "I will always guard your side, Your Majesty, no matter what happens."
Renly's lips quirked into a bitter smile. "Always," he repeated the word softly, as if mocking himself for having once given him such a promise.
Renly no longer cared about the opinions of others; under Loras's shocked gaze, he raised his hand and gently brushed away the rainwater from Loras's cheek, his movements full of tenderness. "Good, then you shall stay with me until the very end."
"Let us go inside quickly." After speaking, Renly took the lead and walked down the wet stone steps. The Rainbow Guard followed closely behind, their multi-colored cloaks striking in the dim light, like a patchwork rainbow flag.
Even inside the castle, the fire in the hearth crackled, yet it could not dispel the chill that filled the air. Renly knew that this was not just a natural storm, but a storm of House Baratheon's destiny, and he was standing right at its center.
At Blackwater Bay, Oberyn Martell was inspecting their spoils of war.
He was now wearing a suit of light leather armor that was easy to move in, a satisfied smile on his face. His mistress, Ellaria Sand, stood beside him, holding a captured valyrian steel longsword.
According to existing historical records, there are more than two hundred valyrian steel weapons in Westeros. Most were purchased at great cost from Valyria by Great Houses centuries ago to serve as family heirlooms.
But most have been lost in the long course of history, and now only about twenty are well-known, each of them priceless. The one before them was not one of those famous few.
Ellaria gently stroked the ripples flowing along the blade, a unique characteristic of valyrian steel, as if it were alive.
"This sword is not bad." Oberyn took the sword, gave it a casual swing, and said, "How about giving it to Viserys and Arianne as a wedding gift? It will surely shock the other houses, and perhaps even Viserys himself."
Ellaria rolled her eyes at him and said, "His Majesty Viserys has hundreds of valyrian steel weapons; would he care for this? We should find a more thoughtful gift."
"That's not necessarily true." Oberyn handed the sword to a nearby attendant and said, "Keep it for now; it will be useful in the future."
After finishing the inspection of the other treasures, he walked over to a map, his finger pointing at the location of Storms End. "This is a tough nut to crack; better leave it to Viserys. If Renly had any self-awareness, he should have surrendered long ago."
Ellaria thought of Viserys's dragons and nodded in deep agreement.
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