You’re nothing more than a drunkard clinging to a crown you neither earned nor deserve. Your legacy will be forgotten faster than your whore's name, and the realm will remember you as the greatest disappointment in the history of house Targaryen. Oh wait, you're not really of house Targaryen are you? More a second-hand bastardised version complete with absurd emblems and all called Targtower was it? That also will not be remembered.
Aegon let his uncle say everything he wanted, staring at him with a victorious grin.
"That's a whole new low-level for you, Daemon. I mean... I know you lost it when my father disinherited you, I wish I could've been there to see it, must have been quite a show. Anyways, the crown is mine by right."
"Why don't you go back to Essos, or whatever you came from and find a nice piece of land to raise you sheep and bastard stepsons? Isn't that what second sons do?"


















