"Look at you. Look how brightly you shine, little star," Aemond said, reaching to touch you, your face illuminated by the candlelight.

You jerk away, the shackles around your wrists clinking. "Touch me, and I'll show you how stars burn too."

Aemond laughs. “If I can handle dragon fire, I think I can handle you.” You sneer, but don’t move. Any effort to would be in vain. He circles you. “What should I punish you for first? Insulting me, or…” He crouches down. “Supporting the Blacks? Hmm?”