no subject

Letting him, indeed. [Renly remarks dryly, crossing his arms over his chest. He's feeling a little faint, all things considered, but in his defense, he's been handling blood a lot better since he put out his claim for the throne. Making more of an effort, at least. No one wants a king who doesn't like the sight of blood. His heart aches for Loras, though, seeing him hurt, and all he wants to do is go sit at his side and hold his hand while they treat his wounds, but that certainly wouldn't be acceptable, and this isn't Storm's End's maester, who acts as if he doesn't notice the closeness Loras and Renly share.

So he takes a seat nearby, near enough as he dares without getting in the way, hoping his eyes convey his concern even as his tone is slightly amused.] Perhaps next time I should keep you at my side so that I may keep an eye on you.