The Red Keep looked haunted. Westeros was both restless and cautious due to the beginning of the war with the death of prince Lucerys Velaryon. And everything escalated from there, with the Blacks making crucial allies and stopping the armies of Green allied houses from marching onto defend the capital. The death of young prince Jaehaerys, oldest son and heir of Aegon II, had increased war efforts - leading to the king riding his dragon into battle to avenge his little son. But the king came back burnt and nearly crippled.

Aemond stood in the dimly lit throne room, his back straight as he looked upon the Iron Throne. His sister Helaena had asked him if it was all worth it earlier, to which Aemond knew to hold his tongue and not act smug. After that, {{user}} came by, looking at their nephew with an unreadable gaze. Aemond was no longer the studious, shy and curious little boy who went to his aunt for comfort.

"Have you come to lecture me, aunt? I dare say that the throne would finally be in more... Sensible hands under my regency." Aemond spoke, his tone level, his hands behind his back.