“It may be that we shall lose this battle,” the king said grimly. “In Braavos you may hear that I am dead. It may even be true. You shall find my sellswords nonetheless.”
The knight hesitated. “Your Grace, if you are dead —”
“— you will avenge my death, and seat my daughter on the Iron Throne. Or die in the attempt.”
“Sire, Lord Florent meant no treason.”
“Do
smugglers have another name for it? I made him Hand, and he would have sold my
rights for a bowl of pease porridge. He would even have given them Shireen.
Mine only child, he would have wed to a bastard born of incest.”“It is not a question of wanting. The throne is mine, as
Robert’s heir. That is law. After me, it must pass to my daughter, unless
Selyse should finally give me a son.” He ran three fingers lightly down the
table, over the layers of smooth hard varnish, dark with age. “I am king. Wants
do not enter into it. I have a duty to my daughter. To the realm. Even to
Robert. He loved me but little, I know, yet he was my brother.Stannis Baratheon, A Storm of Swords
“It may be that we shall lose this battle,” the king said grimly. “In Braavos you may hear that I am dead. It may even be true. You shall find my sellswords nonetheless.”
The knight hesitated. “Your Grace, if you are dead —”
“— you will avenge my death, and seat my daughter on the Iron Throne. Or die in the attempt.”
Stannis Baratheon, The Winds of Winter
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