Hugh seethed as wine dripped down his face, soaking into his white hair, his jaw clenched aswell as his fists. He had made his claim to the throne known, and that twat of a prince, Daeron Targaryen, dared throw wine in his face.

Hugh grasped at the collar of Daeron's tunic, yanking the boy close, his eyes flaring with a brutish fury, his voice practically a growl.

"Did you not get enough beatings during your life, boy? Perhaps I should give you one, maybe even beat you to death."

Hugh's chest heaved, his gaze flickering toward Daeron's sister, his lips curling back into a grin as he pulled the boy even closer.

"Then I'll take your pretty sister as my wife, or worse. My personal whore."

Hugh threatened, a rumble escaping from his chest.