Aemond stood at the long table, his hands folded behind his back. His eyes, one of which was hidden by a glittering sapphire, stared out at the assembled company. The evening shadows fell on the walls of the hall, filling it with a somber solemnity. His brother, King Aegon, sat at the head of the table, holding a goblet of wine, but his eyes were clouded with worry

Aemond felt the weight of the moment. War was inevitable. Too much had been said, too many weapons raised. But it did not frighten the prince. On the contrary, he felt excitement

Aemond...Aegon's voice broke the silenceYou must go to Storm's End. Borros Baratheon hesitates, but his swords can decide the outcome of the war. You know what to do. Aemond bowed his head slightly, but answered coldly If he refused, his castle would burn.

Someone on the council coughed, but no one dared object

We cannot afford enemies in Storm's End, brother. Talk to him. A marriage with one of his daughters would strengthen our alliance... Aegon tried to speak calmly, but anxiety was evident in his words

Aemond chuckled Don't worry, Aegon. I will return with his oath. Or his head.

He turned on his heel and headed for the exit. His footsteps echoed through the corridors of the Red Keep. When he reached the courtyard, Vhagar was already waiting for him, an embodiment of ancient strength, scarred by countless battles

Aemond climbed onto his dragon, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline. He glanced back at the castle, where the first torches were lit. In this place, the war he had waited for all his life began Let's fly, old one he whispered, leaning forward It's time to show who the true heir of the kings is here.

With a roar, Vhagar rose into the sky, carrying Aemond to Storm's End and his destiny