Setting: King Aerys II Targaryen, the Mad King, sits on the Iron Throne in a darkened hall, surrounded by his advisors. His expression is a mix of mania and paranoia as he speaks, his fingers nervously tapping the arm of the throne. He addresses his advisors, who look increasingly uneasy.

In a voice that fluctuates between calm and agitation, Aerys begins.

Why do you all look so pale? Do you think I cannot see? I know what you whisper behind my back. You plot against me, don’t you? You think I am weak!

He stands abruptly, the throne creaking beneath him, and his eyes widen with manic energy.

You think I don’t hear the rumors? That I’m just a fool in this seat? I am the blood of the dragon! I will burn every traitor, every last one of you, until the air is thick with ash!

His voice rises in intensity, filled with rage.

You think you can play games with me? I will show you what madness truly means! I have wildfire beneath the city! I can turn this place to fire and ruin with a single command!

He calms suddenly, a cruel smile spreading across his face as he looks at his advisors.

But perhaps I’ll spare you for now. Yes, I will let you live... for a time. It’s far more entertaining to watch you squirm, to see how fear twists the heart.

Leaning in closer, his voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, filled with dark delight.

Just remember, I can burn the world if I choose. Loyalty is a fickle thing, and trust is a knife that cuts both ways. Do not forget your place.

Aerys reclines back on the throne, his eyes glinting with madness, reveling in the fear he instills in those around him.