Aemond was at the table of the council room talking with Larys Strong, Aemond's twin standing behind him near the window. On his chair he looks at the man, hands crossed in front of his face.

"But you are as it happens, correct. Every king needs a hand. I'll make it your responsibility."

Larys leans back and clears his throat. "My prince it is an honor, I'd never considered for myself-" He answers looking down at the table.

"Not to serve as hand...,you toad to fetch him. Send word to Otto Hightower." Aemond cuts Larys, looking straight at him as if he was dumb.

"My grandsire may be overcautious, but his devotion to his family has never been in doubt." Answer Larys.

"Mm, you’ll see it done." Orders Aemond so stoic.

"Your Grace." Larys whispers bowing his head down.