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Davos had finally almost come to an agreement with Prince Doran and he was sailing back to Storm's end. The Royal family had gone with him to the harbor and had wished him a good journey but he was filled with mixed emotions. He did not know if Stannis would agree with the slight change they had asked. But, he could not stay any longer in Dorne. He had been there for several weeks already and he missed his family, and his King. Being again with the Red Witch did not please him but it was the cost to pay to stay by Stannis's side. He still hoped his King would open his eyes and see her as who she was: someone he could not trust, someone who lied to him. Davos sighed and walked to his cabin. The journey was going to be exhausting.

It was night in Storm's End. Stannis was reading messages he had received from different Lords: they were joining him, one by one and he mentally counted how many men each Lord would bring. He was close, so close from his goal. When he was done, he poured lemony water in a glass and drank slowly, facing the sea. He felt a hand on his shoulder and internally smiled: Margaery was missing him. She was still mad at him because he could not tell her he loved her. She did not understand it was impossible for him to say these words, even though he would feel for her. But, tonight, he was happy she came to him. He grabbed gently her hand and kissed her palm before turning to her. He gasped and recoiled: it was Melisandre.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see my King", she smiled, getting closer from him.

Stannis looked down and moved away from her:

"It's late. I'm going to sleep. Goodnight Melisandre."

She stayed in front of him:

"Ypur grace, I cannot fulfill your will if you don't give yourself to me. All of yourself, my King."

Her hand ran up and down his chest. He took it off.

"I have a wife. And I love her."

Melisandre stared at him and snorted out loud. Stannis scowled at the Red Woman.

"Oh my King… It is not love you feel for Margaery. Lust, of course. Tenderness maybe. But not love. Love ME, my King, and I will give you a son."

Stannis had to hold back the triumphant smile these words provoked.

"I will have a son", he said, getting closer to her.

She put her hands on his arms: her skin was so warm he could feel it through the leather of his clothes.

"Yes, my King. I will give you a son."

He bent down on her, as to kiss her but, while his lips were a few millimeters from hers, he whispered:

"Margaery is with child. Crassen says it will be a boy."

Then he recoiled brutally and left the room. His heart was hammering in his chest: Melisandre was beautiful, he could not deny that, but Margaery was his wife and she was close to give him what he had expected for years. He had to trust her, to trust Davos. But this damned Davos. Where was he? It has been months now since he left for Dorne. He could be dead to sea and he would not even know. He closed his eyes, trying to calm down the furious beats of his heart before joining Margaery.

She watched him leave and looked down. The little slut was pregnant. Melisandre watched outside, she watched at the stars, looking for a sign the God of Light would send to her. Then she prayed, silently, her eyes closed. The fire in one of the torches crackled violently and she turned to it, frowning. She walked closer, and stood in front of it, watching, waiting for a sign. Her eyes narrowed and then widened little by little. Her lips slightly opened and she gasped, but soon, her lips smiled. The vision she had was terrible. Terrible and beautiful. And perfect. So perfect. When it disappeared, she burst out laughing and walked back to her room. She walked by Stannis and Margaery and listened to them. Enjoy yourselves; enjoy her while you can, my King. Soon, you'll regret having married her. After a moment, she walked again to her room, opened the door and sighed seeing the cold bed which was waiting for her. She looked at the mirror, touched her face, her beautiful face, her red hair. She undid the laces of her dress and let it fall on the floor. Her hands ran on her naked body, pinching gently her nipples. She loved how her body reacted to her strokes. She could give so much pleasure to Stannis, if only he let her do. Selyse should have never died. He did not love her, he did not desire her. He would have fallen for her any time if she had been still alive. But she was dead, Margaery was his wife and now she was pregnant. She almost despaired. But she remembered the vision in the flames and she was smiling when she lied in her bed.