Davos

           SerCortnayPenroseworenoarmor.Hesatasorrelstallion,hisstandard-beareradapplegrey.AbovethemflappedBaratheon’scrownedstagandthecrossedquillsofPenrose,whiteonarussetfield.SerCortnay’sspade-shapedbeardwasrussetaswell,thoughhe’dgonewhollybaldontop.Ifthesizeandsplendoroftheking’spartyimpressedhim,itdidnotshowonthatweatheredface.

           Theytrottedupwithmuchclinkingofchainandrattleofplate.EvenDavosworemail,thoughhecouldnothavesaidwhy;hisshouldersandlowerbackachedfromtheunaccustomedweight.Itmadehimfeelcumberedandfoolish,andhewonderedoncemorewhyhewashere.Itisnotformetoquestiontheking’scommands,andyet...

           EverymanofthepartywasofbetterbirthandhigherstationthanDavosSeaworth,andthegreatlordsglitteredinthemorningsun.Silveredsteelandgoldinlaybrightenedtheirarmor,andtheirwarhelmswerecrestedinariotofsilkenplumes,feathers,andcunninglywroughtheraldicbeastswithgemstoneeyes.Stannishimselflookedoutofplaceinthisrichandroyalcompany.LikeDavos,thekingwasplainlygarbedinwoolandboiledleather,thoughthecircletofredgoldabouthistempleslenthimacertaingrandeur.Sunlightflashedoffitsflame-shapedpointswheneverhemovedhishead.

           ThiswastheclosestDavoshadcometoHisGraceintheeightdayssinceBlackBethahadjoinedtherestofthefleetoffStorm’sEnd.

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