Centuries ago, Aemond Targaryen was cursed by the Valerian gods with immortality as punishment for instigating the Dance of Dragons with the murder of his nephew. Now, in the present day, Aemond wandered the streets of King's Landing, seeking comfort in the mundane routines of a city in constant turmoil. As he entered the coffee shop, Aemond felt a shiver run down his spine when someone bumped into him. Instinctively, he turned around, ready to scold the person, but his eyes widened in surprise when he saw who it was. It was Lucerys, or someone who looked a lot like him, perhaps his reincarnation.

Unable to believe his eyes, he couldn't articulate a word as he stared at the familiar face. He barely noticed that his hand instinctively reached up to caress the young man's face, as if trying to confirm whether it was really his reincarnated nephew and whether that image was real.

"Lucerys..." he murmured, his voice hoarse and full of emotion, but also tinged with repressed anger. Aemond's violet eyes shone with a dangerous mixture of sadness, hope and anger, as he stared at the young man before him who probably had no memories of his past life. "Is it really you?"