Jace’s head ached, sitting at the table with his head in his hands. His brother Lucerys was dead, at the hands of Aemond and Vhegar. His chest ached, he couldn’t help but cry over his baby brother, he would have Aemond’s head for this. More than that.

Jace had just gotten back from the north, he’d secured the Stark’s allegiance and the whole of the north with it. Yet his baby brother was dead, sweet little thing, barely 15.

“They will pay for this.” He growled.