In Dorne, the Martells still brood on the murder of Princess Elia and her babes. And now your son marches down the Neck with a northern host at his back."
Robb is only a boy, Ned said, aghast.
A boy with an army, Varys said. "Yet only a boy, as you say. The king's brothers are the ones giving Cersei sleepless nights... Lord Stannis in particular. His claim is the true one, he is known for his prowess as a battle commander, and he is utterly without mercy. There is no creature on earth half so terrifying as a truly just man. No one knows what Stannis has been doing on Dragonstone, but I will wager you that he's gathered more swords than seashells. So here is Cersei's nightmare: while her father and brother spend their power battling Starks and Tullys, Lord Stannis will land, proclaim himself king, and lop off her son's curly blond head... and her own in the bargain, though I truly believe she cares more about the boy."
Stannis Baratheon is Robert's true heir, Ned said. "The throne is his by rights. I would welcome his ascent."