Chapter 55 : Stannis

"Legend has it that during the winter that lasted a generation, in the long, dark age known as the Long Night, the White Walkers first descended upon the world," Cole recounted slowly, speaking of the records kept at the Wall.

Though the Wall had been built to defend against such creatures, books about the White Walkers were now considered myths rather than history.

It was clear that Princess Shireen had never heard such horror stories from a nursemaid. Her face paled with fear, and she clutched her book tightly against her chest.

When Cole finished, she hesitated before asking, "Who is stronger—the White Walkers or dragons?"

"I don't know," Cole admitted. "But I believe humans are the strongest."

Shireen frowned in confusion.

"Think about it," Cole continued. "The White Walkers were driven back to the eternal winter of the North, and dragons, as powerful as they are, were tamed and ridden by men."

Shireen's eyes widened with realization. Yes… humans must be the strongest of all.

"Cole, you know so much," she said in admiration.

"I'm far less knowledgeable than the maester who raised me," he replied with a modest shake of his head.

"A maester? Is he like Grandpa Cressen?" She spoke of Maester Cressen with a sadness that was hard to miss.

"Each maester has their own expertise, depending on the links of their chain," Cole explained. "Black iron represents knowledge of ravens, silver is for medicine, and Valyrian steel signifies magic."

"Magic…" Shireen murmured, her voice tinged with wonder.

Just then, a familiar voice called her name.

"Shireen."

Her father's voice.

Beyond Aegon's Garden, Stannis stood near the thorn bushes.

Shireen rose from the swing and whispered, "Father."

Stannis forced a stiff smile and strode toward her. His gaze briefly flickered to Cole, who knelt on one knee and saluted.

"Your Majesty the King," Cole said respectfully.

Stannis gestured for him to stand, then turned back to his daughter. "What were you talking about?"

"Magic, Father," Shireen said excitedly. "Cole told me Valyrian steel represents magic. Do you think Grandpa Cressen has Valyrian steel in his chain?"

At the mention of Maester Cressen, a shadow crossed Stannis's face. "No. He knew nothing of magic."

Shireen looked disappointed.

Stannis hesitated, as if searching for words. Though he was a king, speaking to his daughter never came easily to him.

"Father, do you know Cole?" she asked.

Stannis studied Cole again. The young man stood straight, well-mannered, and with a striking appearance. Stannis had been considering where to place him. A man like this lingering around a young princess—regardless of his character—could affect her reputation.

"Cole has read all the books at the Wall. He knows a lot," Shireen added proudly.

Stannis's expression remained unreadable. "Are you a man of the Night's Watch?"

"No, Your Majesty," Cole answered.

"Hmph. It seems you're neither dumb nor a fool, as some claim," Stannis said. "But you will explain how you ended up at sea. That will determine whether you stay—or go. If you are a smuggler, then prison will be your home."

His voice was cold and unwavering. Stannis Baratheon was known throughout the Seven Kingdoms for his strict sense of justice, rewarding loyalty and punishing wrongdoing without exception.

"By the laws of the Seven Kingdoms, I am a law-abiding man," Cole replied evenly. "Before I was lost at sea, Ser Brynden Tully knighted me at the Eyrie."

"A knight?" Stannis's brows lifted slightly in surprise. The Blackfish was a well-known and respected figure. If he had knighted this man, then Cole was no ordinary commoner. Perhaps Maester Pylos could confirm the truth of his words.

"I hope, for your sake, that what you say is true," Stannis said.

Stannis Baratheon was not a warm man. Even in front of his daughter, his expression remained cold and severe. Yet, Cole knew that as a father, he loved Shireen deeply.

When she contracted grayscale, many advised him to send the diseased child away—to abandon her to the cursed lands and let her fend for herself. Stannis refused.

He ignored all counsel and instead commanded the maester to do everything possible to save her.

Of course, one could argue that it wasn't love alone that stayed his hand. The rigid law he upheld so fiercely would not permit him to exile an innocent child—daughter or not.

But when Cole thought of how Stannis would one day sacrifice Shireen to the flames of the Lord of Light, confusion stirred within him. Stannis was no fool, nor was he a blind zealot of R'hllor.

Everything about the man—his sense of duty, his unwavering adherence to the law, his impartiality—suggested that he was not the type to kill his own child for power.

He was not well-liked among the nobility, largely because he showed no leniency, rewarding merit and punishing crime with equal severity. But his loyalty to the realm was undeniable.

If he truly burned his daughter, then there could be only one explanation—he had seen the White Walkers at the Wall.

Stannis was not a man to abandon his own lands and march north without reason. If he was willing to sacrifice everything for the realm, even his beloved child, then perhaps he truly believed it was necessary.

Perhaps he thought himself Azor Ahai reborn—the prophesied hero who would wield Lightbringer, the sword that would drive away the darkness.

But history would prove otherwise. He was not the one to pull the Sword of Light from the flames. He was not the man who led the Seven Kingdoms to dawn.

And yet, the willingness to shoulder such a burden, to make such terrible choices for the sake of his people, made him worthy of respect.

Then another thought crept into Cole's mind—one far less noble.

I fought for the Lannisters.

Stannis had undoubtedly judged House Lannister guilty of the highest crimes. If he learned of Cole's past, there would be no mercy.

A chill ran down his spine.

Should he flee? But where could he go? Dragonstone was an island—there was nowhere to run.

Stannis's unyielding sense of justice was legendary, and the fate of Ser Davos Seaworth was proof of it.

During Robert's Rebellion, Stannis had been ordered to hold Storm's End. The castle was besieged by the Reach's forces for a full year, with no supplies coming in.

His men starved—so desperately that even the rats were eaten. Some claimed they had come close to cannibalism.

It was Ser Davos, then a smuggler, who broke the siege. He slipped through the blockade, bringing a shipload of onions and salted fish. His actions saved Stannis's men, and for that, Stannis knighted him.

But Stannis did not forget Davos's past crimes. As a smuggler, he had broken the law. And so, despite his heroism, Stannis sentenced him to lose four fingers as punishment.

In Stannis's eyes, merits and crimes did not cancel each other out.

If Cole's past deeds in Riverrun had gone unnoticed so far, it was only a matter of time before word spread.

Stannis did not linger long. He had little time to spare, and only came because he had promised his wife he would visit Shireen.

He did not seem overly concerned about Cole, making only a passing inquiry with Maester Pylos. The maester, hesitant and uncertain, spent some time searching through letters and records.

Eventually, he found mention of a trial by combat at the Eyrie—a duel where Ser Brynden Tully knighted a boy named Cole after he defeated Ser Vardis Egen as a champion.

It was a name. A fact. A past that could not be erased.

And now, Stannis knew it.

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