The war had ended and now a true Baratheon sat the throne. King Stannis Baratheon, first of his name, now claimed the Iron Throne though not without scouring the court clean first. The Lannisters were eradicted, the Boltons too, as well as most of the Freys. The Greyjoys were beaten into submission and the last Targaryen was exiled. He aided the Night's Watch when the Others rose to challenge them and though his army suffered great losses, they prevailed. The king who fought winter, they’d called him. The king who ended the long night.
And now came the part of kingship that Robert failed in. Governing. A tentative peace reigned the realm as the king executed justice. Such was his rule; men reaped what they sowed. It was one he hoped his heir would take as well when she ascended the throne.
It was time, he thought, that she sat in council meetings. He’d requested her presence in the throne room to inform her of his decision. The Baratheon banners that lined the room replaced the Lannister lions. He'd taken the crowned stags as his sigil once more following the departure of the red woman. (A bitter memory he’d best not dwell on.)
"You will sit in the next council meeting," he instructed as he regarded his daughter with a nod. "They'll no doubt discuss the coin we need to rebuild the Red Keep, but the Night's Watch will need it more. You understand why."