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The Iron Isles could not have been taken without the destruction of the Iron fleet, and it was Stannis who had destroyed it. Ironmen spent half their lives at sea; all men knew they were the finest sailors in the Seven Kingdoms. And he, Stannis, had defeated them. Yet it was Robert they all toasted, Robert they hailed as a hero. Robert the great warrior king, victor of another war. Stannis ground his teeth at the injustice of it.
"What troubles you, my lord?"
Stannis was aware that his resentment could be misconstrued as pettiness and jealousy, and he would not have confided to anyone else, save perhaps Maester Cressen. But Davos Seaworth was utterly loyal and trustworthy, despite his earlier life as a smugger, and Stannis felt he could share his thoughts with him.
"They hail it as Robert's victory alone." Robert had proposed toasts to warriors like Thoros of Myr and he'd commended the leadership of his precious Ned Stark. The celebratory feast was in its second hour and Robert still had not honored his brother's contribution, even though the defeat of the warships guarding the rebellious islands was certainly more significant than which knight had breached which wall.
"It is easier for them to laud the taking of castles. Most of them are unfamiliar with ships and do not understand the difficulties of naval battle."
He had never heard Davos speak critically of nobles before. Although Stannis had knighted him and given him lands, Davos was a humble man and he seemed to feel his lowborn origins precluded him from speaking ill of his social superiors. Stannis suspected the comment - though entirely truthful - was meant to make him feel better. He appreciated the gesture.
"You performed your part in the battle most competently," he said awkwardly. He was unused to giving compliments, but in this he was merely acknowledging a truth.
Davos bowed. "I served you as best I could, as I always aim to do."
They sat in companionable silence for a while, Stannis sipping a cup of plain water and Davos drinking ale. At last Robert proposed a toast to Stannis, though Stannis noted it was only after he'd already toasted every swordsman of note.
"To Stannis," Davos chimed with the others. "My lord," he said to Stannis, "My wife is expecting another babe. She swears this one will also be a boy. Will you do us the honor of permitting us to name the child after you?"
Davos already had five sons, but if any man deserved a sixth, it was him. Stannis envied him. His own lady wife had so far only given him a daughter. "You may so name the boy." Stannis Seaworth was a fine name. Lesser nobles often named their children for their liege lord to curry favor, but Davos was not a man for flattery. If he wanted to name his son Stannis, it had to be because he truly had high regard for his lord.
"Thank you, my lord. If I know my Marya, she'll insist we keep trying until she finally has a girl. Should we have a daughter, we'll name her Selyse."
Stannis was no more fond of his wife than he had to be. "My lady mother's name was Cassana. She was beautiful." He'd imagined he could see her and his lord father waving from the deck of their ship before the storm claimed them, but it had only been a boyish fancy. He knew they would not have been visible from where he and Robert had been standing that day.
"Then if I have a daughter, I'll name her Cassana."
The conversation had become uncomfortable for Stannis. He liked Davos more than he liked, well, anyone else, but he'd never had patience for sentimentality. "I'm retiring for the night. Enjoy the feast, you have a greater right to it than many of these lordlings who did nothing."
"Good night, my lord."
It wouldn't be a good night; it never was, as far back as he could remember. But it cheered Stannis to think that soon a baby boy would bear his name. Perhaps it would bring luck and Selyse would finally give him a son.