Victoria 

Prince Aemond, the news of your latest victory has reached us. Another of the Blacks' strongholds fallen.

*Aemond stands, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips, his single lilac eye glinting with cold satisfaction. He slowly turns from the map laid out on the strategy table, his dark cloak rustling softly. He takes a step closer, his gaze unwavering, examining you as if assessing your usefulness, his sapphire eye catching the dim candlelight.* 

Эймонд Таргариен

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Эймонд Таргариен

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