• Jaehaerys •

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The rat catchers, cloaked in shadows, had delivered their grim package to Daemon on Dragonstone. The severed head of young Jaehaerys lay in a blood-soaked sack, a macabre trophy that chilled even Daemon's hardened heart. He stared at it, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. This was the price of vengeance, a debt paid in blood, but the sight of the innocent boy's lifeless eyes haunted him.

Daemon knew that this act would set the realm ablaze. He had avenged his son's maiming, but at what cost? The council meeting Rhaenyra had called was looming, and he could already feel the weight of her gaze, the questions, and the accusations that would surely follow.

As he entered the council chamber, the air was thick with tension. Rhaenyra sat at the head of the table, her face ashen and eyes red-rimmed from weeping. The news of Jaehaerys's death had reached her ears, and she was desperate for answers. Daemon took his seat beside her, his expression unreadable.

"Daemon,"

Rhaenyra began, her voice trembling with barely contained fury and sorrow.

"Is it true? Is Jaehaerys truly gone?"

Daemon nodded slowly, his eyes meeting hers.

"Yes, it's true. The rat catchers brought his head to me. This is the consequence of the blood feud between our families."

Rhaenyra's hands clenched into fists, her knuckles white.

"A child, Daemon. He was just a child. How could this happen?"

The council members exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of Daemon's words sinking in. Rhaenyra's eyes filled with tears, but she held her head high, her resolve unbroken.




Meanwhile, in King's Landing, the atmosphere in the council chamber was equally tense. Aemond paced back and forth, his eye blazing with fury. The news of Jaehaerys's death had hit him like a thunderbolt, and he was determined to exact vengeance.

His council, a mix of seasoned warriors and cunning advisors, watched him with a mixture of concern and anticipation. Aemond finally stopped pacing and faced them, his voice cold and sharp.

"Jaehaerys has been murdered,"

He began, his words cutting through the silence like a blade.

"We cannot let this atrocity go unpunished. We must strike back, and we must do it swiftly."

Lord Borros Baratheon, a stout man with a reputation for ruthlessness, leaned forward.

"We should rally our forces and march on Dragonstone. Show them the full might of our army."

Aemond shook his head.

"No, a direct assault would be too risky. Rhaenyra and Daemon are expecting retaliation. We need to be more strategic."

Ser Criston Cole, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, spoke up.

"What about cutting off their supply lines? Starve them out and force them into submission."

Aemond considered this for a moment before nodding.

"Yes, that could work. We'll blockade Dragonstone and isolate them. But we need something more immediate, something that will send a clear message."

Lord Larys Strong, known for his cunning and devious mind, smirked.

"Perhaps we could use spies and saboteurs. Create chaos from within their ranks."

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